Gene Colan, one of the most prolific and respected artists in comics, has passed away at the age of 84. Gene worked in comics from around 1944 until his retirement in just the last few years, working for every major company in almost every genre and on a large percentage of all the major characters, but is probably best known for his work for Marvel in the sixties and seventies. For them, he drew Daredevil, Howard the Duck, Tomb of Dracula, Doctor Strange, Iron Man and so many others. There are many fans who consider his versions of some of those characters to be the defining versions.
Gene was born in the Bronx on September 1, 1926. "I began drawing at an early age and never stopped," he once said. A graduate of the Art Students League of New York, he did some work in comics before enlisting in the Army Air Corps. After his discharge in 1946, he went to work for Timely Comics (now Marvel) and would ever after credit its star artist and art director, Syd Shores, with teaching him the business. In 1948, Timely laid off much of its staff and Colan began freelancing for every company that would buy his work. He continued working for Timely/Marvel drawing hundreds of tales for their war, western and mystery comics of Atlas Comics. He also became a mainstay of DC's war, romance and western comics, including a long stint as the main artist of their Hopalong Cassidy comic book.
In the sixties, the DC editor who most often bought his work was Robert Kanigher. Colan did not get along with Kanigher and that drove Gene to pester Stan Lee for work on the Marvel line. When another artist defaulted on the assignment of drawing a new Sub-Mariner feature, Stan gave the job to Gene, who worked under the pen name of "Adam Austin," lest Kanigher find out. Colan's unique, photographic approach to comics did not mimic the style of Jack Kirby, which was then the norm at Marvel but it was exciting and even revolutionary in its own way. Before long, Stan had Gene drawing Iron Man and then Daredevil…and the name of Adam Austin was displaced in the credits by that of Gene Colan. Readers learned to know it usually promised a well-drawn, dramatic tale.
In the early eighties, a clash with the then-current management at Marvel drove Gene to DC where he drew Batman, Wonder Woman and many others. As you can tell, it's difficult to list all the work Gene did in his long, fruitful career. It might be easier to list the comics he didn't draw.
As a reader, I loved Gene's work. There was a credibility about it: No matter how outlandish the premise or plot, Gene somehow made you believe it. His pencil art was magnificent…in many ways, too good for the assembly line production process and the flimsy printing that it usually received. As good as his work looked in your comics, it was always probably better.
I later got to love Gene. He was a charming, self-effacing gentleman who was genuinely moved when fans tried to tell him how good he was and how much joy his work had given them. He heard that a lot and remained utterly unspoiled by all the praise. In a way, it seemed to make him try harder to improve his drawing and live up to what they said he was.
His last decade or so was heartbreaking, plagued by constant eye problems and other illnesses, as well as financial woes. In 2010, his second wife Adrienne was consumed by severe emotional and drug problems. She injured Gene in a physical altercation and later took her own life. Gene spent most of the rest of his life in and out of hospitals as doctors tried to deal with a wide array of injuries and heart failures. That he survived as long as he did had a lot to do with the well wishes and efforts of his friends, especially writer Clifford Meth. (Cliff, thank you.) Given what Gene was going through, I am frankly surprised he lived as long as he did.
I'll write more about him in the coming days, I'm sure. His passing was not, of course, unexpected and yet it's still jarring. Gene was so much a part of comics as long as I've read comics. He was the kind of artist who rarely drew less than two comics a month (sometimes, three) and I think a lot of people took him for granted. If he had drawn a handful of comics as fine as what he did in the sixties and seventies and then gotten out, readers would still be haunting their comic shops, praying for his return. I also enjoyed his friendship…and I have to tell you that the one time he drew a script of mine was one of those moments when I would have paid the company for the honor. I received Xeroxes of his pencilled pages — so much more wonderful, of course, than the printed product — and I just grinned for days…because I'd just written a comic drawn by Gene Colan. He always made everything look so damned good.