Interview: Tim Jones

"China, Brass & Peaches"

Tim Jones is an award-winning fine artist who specializes in still-life paintings. His beautiful oil-painting technique calls to mind many of the best in the genre (some of his paintings, to me, recall Jan Davidsz. de Heem, the 17th century Dutch master). Tim also blogs at Old World Swine, a personal blog that covers art, politics, and religion, and also maintains a fascinating Daily Painting Blog. He can also be read occasionally at Jimmy Akin's blog. Tim graciously agreed to an interview with SmallPax.

First off, thanks for doing this interview!

You're welcome. It is a pleasure to be asked!

You have many lovely still-life paintings, including some that have won national awards. What draws you to that subject?

Though I didn't always consciously know it, I have always been intensely interested in depicting light and form... the way light behaves and the way three dimensional forms can be modeled in two dimensions. It's a kind of mystery that the illusion of form and space can be created on a flat surface and can draw the viewer into that illusion. My drawings were always very modeled, too, with great interest in the play of light and shadow - chiaroscuro. I have a very keen interest in the figure, as well, and love the challenge of the human form, of making it convincingly occupy a space. I am anxious to do more figure work, but it's a more complicated process because it involves working with models. I think the human form is the highest, the most challenging and most rewarding subject an artist can take on.

You’ve shown a bit of your work process online, but can you give a run-down of what goes into one of your paintings?

Quite coincidentally, I've just finished a series of posts at my somewhat mis-named Daily Painting Blog where I trace nearly the entire development of a painting from start to finish. Of course, it leaves out a great deal, but it gives the rough outlines of the process.

I like working with a toned ground, rather than a white panel. I find it helps in sorting out the values, and I like to leave the ground showing through in places. It ties things together and also lets the viewer see the process somewhat frozen in time. I might draw out the design lightly with Conté crayon, or often I just do the initial drawing with a brush, getting the darkest darks in place. After that, I lay in areas of local color and do some wet-into-wet modeling, working from dark to light, from thin paint to thicker paint (the old, reliable "Light over dark, fat over lean" process). The final highlight stage is often the most fun, because it can really make the image sing and come together. There are times in the intermediate stage when the painting might not look like it is going that well, but you just have to trust the process and stick to the basic principles.

"GBD Topaz"

What type of color palette do you work with—or is there a particular artist whose palette you have adopted?

I've settled into a palette that works for me, though I am always thinking of modifications. It is basically a split-primary palette, with one warmer and one cooler hue of the three primary colors, along with a few earth tones, and titanium white. I also sometimes add secondary colors or specialty pigments like Alizarin Crimson. I cobbled my palette together over time, and it's always changing. I've been to workshops by very accomplished artists, this one using only five or six pigments and another using (literally) twenty or thirty. Everyone has to find the set up that makes sense for them and their way of working. These pigments are often on my palette, though not often all at once;

Primaries: Cadmium Red Light, Cadmium Red Deep, Phthalo Blue, Cobalt Blue, Cerulean Blue, Cadmium Yellow Light, Cadmium Yellow Deep
Secondaries: Hookers Green, Chromium Oxide Green, Cadmium Orange Hue, Cobalt Violet, Dioxazine Purple
Earth Tones: Burnt Sienna, Burnt Umber, Naples Yellow, Venetian Red
Titanium White
Alizarin Crimson
Phthalo Green

"Pomegranates"

Speaking of other artists, who do you look to as influences on your work? And are there any other living artists who you admire?

Influences can be so hard to tease out. I'm influenced by almost everything. In art school I was attracted to the work of the surrealists; Magritte and Escher and Dali, I think because they were working in a more or less realistic way, but were still allowed as legitimate influences by my art professors. Now I'm more influenced by the masters of the academy; Bouguereau, Sargent and the pre-Raphaelites, as well as the great historical painters; Vermeer, Rembrandt, Titian, Ingres. Some living artists I admire are Anthony Waichulis and Jeff Legg. The Art Renewal Center has a terrific website that features the work of great artists working in the realist/figurative tradition, alive and otherwise. A real online museum and a very useful resource.

"Trust"

Switching from your still-life paintings to your work involving figures, I’ve seen two very nice Madonnas that you have done recently. Any other religious works in the pipeline, so to speak?

There is a semi-commissioned piece of St. Anthony of Padua that I need to get started on, but I've been mulling it over for months. I want it to be something special. I've been known mainly as a still life painter, since that is how I get back into painting several years ago, so it was very gratifying to have one of my figure pieces take the top prize at a regional show earlier this year. I'm getting mentally prepared to take my figurative work to another level, but the logistics of making that happen on a budget in a small home studio are pretty daunting. I would love to spend the rest of my career doing liturgical art and images of saints, but making that jump can also be tricky. I approached one local parish, offering to do some pretty major pieces simply as a gift, with their only obligation being to provide the materials. I offered to work with any kind of committee, to provide sketches and comps to make sure the art would be in line with the needs of the parish... but they really didn't know what to do with me. Getting a committee together would be a headache, and then there would always be people who might not like the art... in a few minutes the priest was allowing the possibility of perhaps doing some banners. It's a bit disheartening when you can't give the stuff away. I've been blessed, though, to have some very positive response to the religious themed work that I have done.

"Untitled painting of the Virgin Mary"

"Untitled painting of the Virgin Mary - Detail of underpainting"

Is the work process much different when painting figures or portraits?

It's analogously similar to still life painting, but also very different. I've found that a dark ground can be a problem with flesh tones, so a lighter toned ground is preferable. Also, lighting is critical. I often use a pretty bright, directional light for my still lifes, and with the figure or the portrait that can result in transitions and shadows that are too harsh. This is a living human being, after all. A large area of the brain is involved in seeing the human face, much more than might be dedicated to looking at a piece of fruit or a clay pot, for instance, so very small, subtle shifts in the facial features and their relationships can make a huge difference. There is more room for improvisation with an inanimate object than there is with the human form. If something is off there, the viewer will sense it immediately, because our brains are fine-tuned to that sort of thing. To get that precision, and yet make it appear free and natural, is the great challenge of portrait work.

"Immaculate Heart of Mary"

What advice would you give to someone looking to get into oil-painting? Are there good programs or books that can be of help?

There are many, far too many to list! Unfortunately, there are also programs - I'm thinking of some university departments - that can be a waste of time, if not a positive detriment. That's harsh but true. I have two degrees in art, but feel I really began to learn how to paint just about five years ago. I visited area artists who's work I admired, joined area art groups, went to workshops, went to museums to look at art, looked at art online... but mainly I just started painting regularly. That's the only essential and irreplaceable element in the whole process. Start making art on a regular basis and don't stop. No matter the level at which you may be working, you will improve with experience. Your art will also grow as you mature emotionally and spiritually, which is encouraging. Art is the kind of vocation, like writing, wherein you may work very productively and keep getting better right up until you die. Personally, when I die I hope they find me on the floor of my studio, with a brush in my hand... at a ripe old age, of course.

"Passing Rain"

And, lastly, can you tell our readers where they can purchase your work?

Anyone interested in commissioned work can contact me directly through e-mail (timjonesart@yahoo.com) and I will be very happy to work with them on a piece. I also have a few pieces for sale at my onine store;

www.oldworldswine.etsy.com.

Other work (old and new) can be seen at my fine art website;

www.timothyjonesfineart.net

Interview: Daniel Mitsui

Daniel Mitsui is an artist and writer. His invaluable blog, The Lion and the Cardinal, is an opinionated exploration of the world of Catholic art, architecture, symbolism, and iconography. In my opinion, he is one of the most original--yet traditional--Catholic artists working today. He recently agreed to do an interview with The Catholic Illustrator's Guild.

First off, let me say that I really like your art. It seems that often times today among devout Catholic artists, there's a tendency to only do a "retread" of the art from the late 19th century—which isn't necessarily bad, but it isn't really a development of a new style. Your style is something that looks very new to me. How did this style develop?

Thank you.

When you refer to my style, I assume you're referring to things like my tendency to work in black and white, my use of detailed ornamental filler for backgrounds, my decorative vocabulary that includes microorganisms, dinosaur eggs and the like. This style is not something that I deliberately developed for a new style of Catholic art - it's just the way that I've been drawing for years, and something that I've learned to apply in a religious context.

I have always enjoyed looking at detailed artwork - artwork that offers something new to find every time that it is seen. So even in childhood, my drawings were very detailed. At about the age of 14, I saw pictures of the Lindisfarne Gospels for the first time, and the effect was profound. To this day I consider them the greatest works of art ever made on parchment or paper. The intricate, obsessive ornament, ordered and geometric yet zoomorphic and fluid, is something that I have tried to emulate ever since.

That discovery led to some study of illuminated manuscripts and lettering. But by the time I left for College, I had been seduced by modern art, and spent several years creating abstract or semiabstract drawings, prints and paintings. But modernism never really suited me, and I was pretty miserable as an artist at that time. I first became disgusted with the artifice of the contemporary art business, and resolved to apply my talents to illustration rather than gallery art, which is why I started working exclusively in black and white - I wanted my work to be reproducible, so that it could be owned and enjoyed by more than the elite population of gallery-goers and art buyers.

I no longer consider reproducibility to an aesthetic virtue in itself, but the habit stuck, and to this day everyone seems to like my black and white work more. So I keep at it.

I later became disgusted with modern art altogether, and took up cartooning as a sort of purgative, to get the modernism out of my system. I drew comic strips, made some animated short films, and generally learned to have fun drawing again.

In my last year of college, I was baptized and received into the Catholic Church - something I had secretly wanted for a very long time. My conversion gave me a new appreciation for serious art, and I began to make drawings on religious subjects.

For the next year or two, I devoted most of my artistic efforts to religious art, and the results were poor - timid, awkward, and usually tainted by the modernist and cartoonist habits I had yet to shed. But with a lot of practice and study, they improved. And I found ways to apply the decorative vocabulary that I had developed in previous years to sacred art.


What artists do you look to, past and present, as influential?

My primary interest is Gothic art, because it is there that I see the traditions of Christian iconography expressed most perfectly.

By "iconography", I mean sacred art that is in continuity with an artistic tradition reaching back to the apostolic age, and that is ordered according to the exegesis of the Church Fathers; art that upholds what was said in one of the sessions of the Second Nicene Council, that "the composition of religious imagery is not left to the initative of artists, but is formed upon principles laid down by the Catholic Church and by religious tradition... The execution alone belongs to the painter, the selection and arrangement of subject belongs to the Fathers."
The two most ancient types of Christian art, those created by Greeks and by Syrians, developed into a common, theologically ordered system relatively early in the East, which is Byzantine art. In the West, it was a more complicated process - the ancient traditions were carried into the wilderness by missionaries in the form of illuminated manuscripts and ivory miniatures and other small, portable works of art; these formed the basis of the various regional traditions that developed in relative isolation for several centuries. It was not until the High Middle Ages that an international, comprehensive, ordered system came to be.

When I study Gothic art, I have less interest in the particular artists, their names or their biographies, and more interest in the symbolism and compositional conventions that they have in common, for it is in these commonalities that I can understand the larger iconographic tradition in which they worked. (In later eras, I give the artists more scrutiny, as they put a lot more of themselves into their work - not all of it good!)

That being said, I do have some favorites: Suger of St. Denis, Nicholas of Verdun and Godfrey of Huy; the cathedral builders of the 13th century; 15th century tapestry weavers, and the so-called "Flemish primitives".

I tend to like recent artists the more they hold common purposes with the artists of the middle ages; a few who have influenced me are A.W.N. Pugin and the other Gothic revivalists, Rev. Felix Granda, Antoni Gaudi and his school, and certain members of the Arts and Crafts movement.

When creating sacred art, I attempt to be faithful to the same traditions that were expressed in Gothic art in composition and content and arrangement, but I use a newer and more personal decorative vocabulary. I also do secular work, and the rules are much looser there. Most of that is biological illustration inspired directly by nature rather than by other art. I admire many cartoonists and children's book illustrators, although it has been a while since I've drawn anything influenced by them.


You used to draw comics art in college. I've also heard from an iconographer that the skills picked up in cartooning and caricature, such as exaggeration, help when exploring symbolic or iconographic styles. Do you find that to be the case?

Not exactly. As I said before, I consider iconography to be more a matter of keeping the traditional symbolism and arrangement of holy pictures than of using the stylistic conventions of Byzantine art. I am primarily interested in Gothic art, which never much employed these sort of exaggerations. If I were commissioned to draw an icon in the Byzantine style, I would do so, but I would be careful not to bring a cartoonist's sensibilities to the project, as the conventions of that art were developed to make men laugh, not to make men holy.

That being said, I do think that cartooning can teach an artist a lot about sacred art. Visually and compositionally, a comics page from the early 20th century resembles an illuminated manuscript. The figures in mediaeval illustrated manuscripts often look cartoony, simply due to the speed (fast) and scale (small) at which they were drawn. My own figures often look cartoony for similar reasons; I can draw very realistic figures if I have charcoal, a kneaded rubber eraser, and models willing to sit still for six hours, but they're not something I can improvise easily.

There is also a vigorous comic tradition at the edges of mediaeval sacred art - in manuscript drolleries, misericord carvings, gargoyles, and, ultimately, Hieronymus Bosch - that is very interesting in itself, and even more interesting when considered as an essential part of the iconographic system.

Personally, I credit cartooning with teaching me to compose narratives. For example, I recently received a commission to illustrate a spiritual journey in allegory; it involved a woman climbing a mountain with her family, falling away from them, being led back to the path by a priest, and rejoining them to ascend to the summit. I was able to compose the story in a single continuous landscape. It begins in the top left corner, then moves counterclockwise around the border, breaks into the center of the drawing, and zigzags to the top center. It's complicated, but I think that anyone can understand the events, and their chronology, without any panels or numbers or arrows to direct him. I wouldn't have been able to compose that without having read a lot of Popeye and Krazy Kat and Little Nemo.
The backgrounds to most of your drawings are full of little biological creatures, fish, skulls, and symbols. Do these have a special meaning?

Originally, they had no meaning except that I found them visually interesting. Over time, I have tried to apply them more deliberately. Some of them had established meanings - skulls for death, starfish for Mary (Stella Maris), chambered nautili for perfection. Others did not, but seemed to have a latent symbolism that could be developed more fully. Mitochondria are life-giving; fossilized dinosaur eggs might represent mortification - dragons, which for my purposes are the same as dinosaurs, represent sin; here be dragons destroyed before opportunity to hatch. Planarian worms might represent the Holy Eucharist, due to their ability to be divided into parts no less complete than the whole.



What is your process when creating one of your pen-and-ink pieces? And what tools / materials do you use?

I start by outlining the frames and borders with a ruler and a compass and a circle template. I sketch in the difficult parts with pencil, then draw over them with ink, then erase the pencil marks. Most of the background patterns I draw freehand, without pencilling them beforehand. I never make rough drafts, but always start the final drawing right away. This is probably a bad artistic habit, but it's how I work.

I use an art pen in the smallest size available (005) for most of my drawing, and a brush with india ink for filling in larger black spaces. I use colored inks and colored pencils when needed, and calligraphy pens on occasion. I draw on white bristol board. My wife just bought me some goatskin vellum for an anniversary gift, but I have not attempted anything on it yet.

Most of your art that I have seen is pen-and-ink. Do you also paint or sculpt?

I can, but I don't really have the space or equipment for it now. Currently, I am considering taking some classes in jewelry-making, as I think my aesthetic would be well applied to metalwork - better than to painting or sculpture.


What resources (other than your excellent blog) would you recommend to artists seeking to deepen their understanding of the Catholic artistic tradition?

I recommend the French art historian Emile Male's trilogy Religious Art in France of the Middle Ages, which is the most thorough, penetrating and erudite study of Roman Catholic sacred art and its symbolism that I have ever encountered. I refer to these books constantly. There is one volume on 12th century art, one on 13th century art, and one on late mediaeval art; the middle volume was the first written, and is the most comprehensive. It has been published in English several times, sometimes under the title The Gothic Image. This book, at the very least, is essential reading for anyone who wants to understand the iconography of the western Church.

The other two volumes are also available in English, although they are much harder to find. You can find used copies of them for a couple hundred dollars apiece. I excerpt passages from them on my web log pretty often, so if the books themselves are too expensive for you, you can receive some of Male's wisdom piecemeal there.

There are other fine studies of mediaeval iconography available in English (e.g. Alphonse-Napoleon Didron's Christian Iconography) but Male's books are much more enjoyable to read, and cover a broader range of subjects.

I also recommend reading what is available in English of the Rationale Divinorum Officiorum, by the 13th century liturgical writer William Durandus of Mende. This an encyclopaedia of sorts on the symbolism of the liturgy, covering vestments, the calendar, the ministers, the church building &c. It doesn't have a lot of direct instruction for artists, but it really shows well the mystical understanding that earlier ages had of worship and sacral objects.

Until recently, only two of its eight books had been translated into English - the first (on the church building) and the third (on the vestments). These translations have long passed into the public domain, and you can find .pdf editions of them in the Internet Archive. I also have the third book transcribed at my web site. There is a professor at Nazareth College - Timothy Thibodeau - who has begun translating the entire work anew. His translation of the prologue and first book came out a couple of years ago, and the second book is due to be published any time now, if it has not already been.

An excellent resource online is the Digital Scriptorium, hosted by Columbia University. This is a searchable database of illuminated manuscripts in major academic libraries in the United States. There are similar European databases, but this is the biggest one in English, and the one I use the most. The easiest way to learn the traditional iconographic arrangement of a scene, or the traditional appearance of a saint, is to look through a lot of illuminated manuscripts from the Middle Ages and note the commonalities between them.

The Golden Legend, the great 13th century encyclopaedia of hagiography, is also indispensible for deciphering mediaeval artwork on the lives of the saints, or creating artwork in the same spirit today. It can be read online in its entirety at the Catholic Community Forum.

Suger of St. Denis, the originator of Gothic art, is to my mind the single greatest genius in the art history of the Catholic Church; luckily, he left written records of his administration and works, which I obviously recommend.

And finally, I recommend reading the defenses of divine images written by the old iconodules - especially St. John of Damascus's Three Treatises on the Divine Images and whatever you can find translated of the Second Nicene Council. These help to remind the sacred artist what is really at stake; in so many ways, our current situation resembles the first and second iconoclastic crises, and wise advice on overcoming the iconoclasm of our own times can be found in them.

As a postscript to this interview: Daniel's art is available in high-quality reproductions. Details about purchasing art can be found in the links below.

LINKS:
The Lion and the Cardinal (Daniel's blog)
Religious Art by Daniel Mitsui
Biological Art by Daniel Mitsui
Bookplates by Daniel Mitsui

RESOURCES MENTIONED BY DANIEL MITSUI:
The Golden Legend
The Digital Scriptorium
Rationale Divinorum Officiorum: Book One, Book Three

Interview: Joe DeVito

Creating Worlds: An Interview with Artist Joe DeVito
This interview originally appeared in Soul Magazine in 2005. For more information about Soul Magazine and The Blue Army, click here.

Joe DeVito was born in New York City in 1957. Inspired by seeing the movie King Kong, Joe became fascinated with dinosaurs. A frequent visitor as a child to the Museum of Natural History, Joe began to explore his artistic talent by drawing and sculpting animals.

Now a professional artist, Joe has created paintings and sculptures of Superman, Wonder Woman, Batman, Spiderman, and many others for such companies as DC Comics, Fleer, Dark Horse, and more. Also an accomplished science fiction and fantasy illustrator, he has painted book covers for many authors, including Robert Heinlein.

One of his recent projects is a twice life size Madonna and Child sculpted for the Blue Army in New Jersey. Joe DeVito lives in Pennsylvania with his wife and two children.




Q: In your book, Kong: King of Skull Island, you take the reader into the world of a modern mythology, with rich symbolism and artistic depth as well as adventure and action. How do you see your faith as a Catholic playing a role in how you portrayed this story?

A: That is a very interesting question. My main intent for the story was that it be first and foremost an action adventure tale that digs deep into the lore of King Kong. I wanted to address many of the mysteries surrounding his existence that I had been wondering about since I was a kid. For instance, when I went to the Museum of Natural History in New York City as a boy, I was enthralled when walking through the Hall of Dinosaurs. But I found myself wondering “Where is King Kong? What did they do with Kong’s body and why isn’t it here?” It was so real to me! Another question that eventually popped up, of course, was if someone built a wall on Skull Island big enough to keep Kong out, why did it have doors big enough to let him in?

That said, just as important to me was for my story to contain a strong human element to provide more to hang onto than giant monsters. Regardless of the action and adventure a story may contain, if it does not have a storyline that we can relate to on a personal level, I believe it would suffer greatly.

In the plot of the original King Kong, the human dynamic was embodied in the classic Beauty and the Beast theme in an essentially literal way – Kong was a beast and Ann Darrow was beautiful. The dilemma I was faced with was how to devise a unique plot that would compliment that. My solution was to in effect invert the original’s theme so that the beauty and beast elements were embodied within the characters themselves. What I did was draw a parallel between the wall that Vincent Denham is building within himself (he is the son of Kong’s captor, Carl Denham, and he returns to Skull Island in search of his father) - and the physical wall that exists on the island which has cut that civilization off from everything around it.

Both are living in fear and slowly dying inside. Each has to struggle between the two halves of their own nature, with their very survival depending on the outcome. Of course in keeping with my original intent, the resolution of the human character’s dilemmas revolve around and are directly contingent upon the story of King Kong himself.

To develop the entire dynamic there was no better reference I could think to draw from than classic biblical themes of Good and Evil. They are timeless and not subject to change so long as humans remain human. To paraphrase what has been said many times before, science may advance, but human nature stays the same.



Q: On the dedication page, you credit many people, but add at the bottom: "and last but first, Mother Mary and St. Jude". How has Mary helped you in your work as an artist?

A: I was told I was specially dedicated to Mary as an infant and I have had a special devotion to her all of my life. I have been helped throughout my career too many times to count. Here’s one:

Last year I met Ray Harryhausen for the first time at a book signing in New York City. I got to meet him in a private room before he went out to talk. His guide through the city that day was Rhona Knight, the grand daughter of the famous paleo-artist Charles R. Knight. She was looking over his shoulder as he was reviewing pictures of art from my Kong book. At the end of it were photos of a twice-life sized statue of the Madonna and Child I have sculpted that I thought he would like to see since he is a sculptor as well. Just as he got to the first one he was immediately called in to go talk. When I went to go out and listen, Rhona pulled me aside. Wanting to know all about the pictures “...of that beautiful statue”, she asked me to go back with them to the hotel to talk more with Ray and fill her in on the statue afterward.

The odd thing was, when I left that day I was going to take the Madonna pictures out of the binder when I suddenly had a very strong feeling to leave them in. Because I did, I got to spend the whole evening with Ray Harryhausen back at his hotel talking all about his movies and King Kong. It was a night I’ll never forget.



Q: Ray Harryhausen, who wrote the introduction to your book, is one of the most celebrated animators and special effects monster creators in the history of motion pictures. How has he influenced your work?

A: Ray Harryhausen has influenced me from the time I was about four years old and saw Mighty Joe Young for the first time (on which he did about 75% of the animation). Since then I have seen his films innumerable times. There are untold millions of people around the world who grew up on Harryhausen movies. The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms, Twenty Million Miles to Earth, The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad, Jason and the Argonauts... the list seems endless.

At a time when so many were dressing up lizards with an assortment of pasted on body parts, Ray Harryhausen created timeless movies using stop-motion animation. He moved intricately built articulated models one frame at a time (24 movements are required for one second of natural motion!). He single-handedly kept alive the art he learned from its creator, Willis O’Brien (who animated Kong in the original movie).

He was a creator of the highest rank. More than just with the animation, he was involved with every aspect of the film from script to costuming, always seeking to keep the overhead low and stay on budget. What he accomplished with so little is simply extraordinary. Harryhausen’s movies captivated generations of movie makers that followed, including Steven Speilberg, George Lucas and Peter Jackson, who recently directed the Lord of the Rings.

When all is said and done, I am really a fan at heart. As much as anything else, my Kong book was an effort to become a part of something I’ve always loved. In making it I not only got to meet two of my creative idols, Ray Harryhausen and Ray Bradbury, but over the years I have also become very close to the family of Merian C. Cooper, the man who created King Kong. All along the way, meeting them was a thrill and to have their names associated with my book is more than I could have hoped for when, about thirteen years ago, I first told a friend all about my idea over a slice of pizza in New York City.






Q: You've worked for some of the biggest companies in the comic book and graphic novel publishing world. Comics began with authors and artists like Bob Kane, Stan Lee, and Jerry Seigel, and now the genre is dominated by names like Frank Miller, Alan Moore, and Todd MacFarlane. How is the world of comics different now as compared with comics in the earlier days?

A: Styles and subject matter, like virtually everything else, have had the envelope pushed farther and farther. Story lines originally targeted at a younger age group a generation ago in the US have followed the Japanese lead (as an example, Manga is absolutely huge these days) where the primary readers are adults.

The range of subjects now encompass far more than super heroes. Sometimes visuals and story lines have gotten so ‘dark’ that in my opinion many have become oppressive. The line has often become indistinguishable between good and evil. Interestingly, metaphysics has found its way into many story arcs, where theo-philosophic traditions are mish-mashed with myth and legend into a constantly mutating Joseph Campbell brand of soup seasoned with the problems of modern day culture.

Another development is that with advances in technology and the internet, there are more self published comics and projects of every description than ever before. Only time will tell where everything will end up.

All in all, comic books and everything related to them encompass an art form like no other. They are incredibly kinetic and fluid and are an essential part of the cultural landscape. They have a finger on its very pulse. Some of the newest and most thrilling manifestations of creativity to be experienced anywhere are found in comics. There are a unique form of artistic expression.






Q: What lies ahead for you? Any projects that you'd like to tell about?

A: There are several but they are all over the board. I’ve just finished co-writing an updated version of the original King Kong novel with Brad Strickland for the Merian C. Cooper Estate that will be released in the fall of ’05. This will synchronize perfectly with my present Kong book for one contiguous storyline and will contain new, albeit far fewer, illustrations. I have also finished sculpting a statue of King Kong for the Cooper Estate that is in the process of being produced as well.

I have been illustrating the covers for a kid’s series of the original classics, such as War of the Worlds, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Sherlock Holmes and the like for Harper Collins. I also have other stories in the works that follow on the heels of my Kong book on a potentially even larger scale that I hope I get to realize.

I should be finishing work in May on the most ambitious sculpture I’ve ever undertaken (the one I mentioned earlier). It is twice–life size and will be part of an entire site dedicated to Pro-Life that will be installed at the Blue Army Shrine in Washington, New Jersey. The dedication is October 2, 2005, I believe. It was a conceptual challenge trying to address such a volatile issue in a way that sought to appeal to everyone, regardless of religious or political persuasion. It was financed by the Birchfield Design Group and has been named “Mary, Mother of the Life Within” by a group of seminarians at St. Charles Boromeo Seminary. As a boy growing up on Michaelangelo and Leonardo, I never dreamed I’d get a chance to work on such a project. I am so thankful I’ve now had the chance.

You can see more of Joe DeVito's work on his website, which also contains some very instructive step-by-step demonstrations. You can also visit the website for his book, Kong: The King of Skull Island.