[A couple of obituaries today, because DeZuniga and Chan died a week apart in May 2012. The post about DeZuniga is here, from the 10th, and Chan’s is here, from the 17th. Lots of comments on both, of course. Let’s check out some cool stuff from underappreciated artists!]
We are just losing too many good ones lately. Tony DeZuniga has passed away at the age of 79, following a stroke.
Most of the obits are probably going to mention his work on Conan and on Jonah Hex, and rightfully so. He was brilliant on those books.
But he could do other stuff too. Horror …
Romance …
Even science fiction.
However, he was always at his best doing two-fisted macho adventure. That was what I liked best, anyway, especially the non-spandex stuff. I was tickled to see Tony DeZuniga doing a new Jonah Hex graphic novel a couple of years ago and I was one of the first in line to get it the week it came out. He hadn’t lost a step in all the decades since he first drew Hex.
Anyway. Lots of people are going to be talking about DeZuniga’s western and adventure comics, but the one that hit me right between the eyes was his Doc Savage. It was just a few weeks ago I was looking back fondly on the run of Doc Savage that DeZuniga did with Doug Moench. That’s the only time I ever felt like the character actually looked like the super-adventurer promised on the Bantam paperbacks cover copy, and that was all Tony DeZuniga … he took that James Bama painted characterization of Doc and made it move.
DC’s got a nice Showcase volume collecting it and I’d recommend it, if you really want to see Tony DeZuniga at his best.
I only got to meet him once, at the Emerald City show in 2009.
He was a little brusque at first, until he saw that I’d brought one of his Doc Savage books for him to sign. That lit him up. “That was a good format,” he said. “I don’t know why they don’t do books like that any more.”
I didn’t know either. We commiserated a little about that, and then when he found out that I was a teacher and my students had a booth, he insisted I come back and bring some of the kids’ books. His wife Tina was also very interested in hearing about the class, and we had a nice chat. They introduced me to Ernie Chan [Edit: Uh-oh …], with whom they shared a table, and both Tony and Ernie then signed a Savage Sword I’d brought that they both had work in. Later that day I found a moment to run a couple of the student ‘zines over to them, and though both Mr. DeZuniga and Mr. Chan had a line of fans and were busy sketching, Tina DeZuniga made it a point to say thank you and that she knew Tony would like them.
It’s not much of a story, at least from the outside. But I was delighted to get to meet two of the guys whose work had made my turbulent teenage years bearable and thank them for that.
Recently, we got to make those thanks tangible by contributing to the DeZuniga hospital fund. Those bills are still going to be hanging over his family, so I hope fandom doesn’t lose interest just because they lost the patient.
The link to contribute is here. [Edit: Obviously, that’s no longer viable, but I thought I’d include it anyway.]
As for me, knowing I got to actually say that ‘thank you,’ at least, has made me feel a little better about Tony DeZuniga’s passing.
Thanks again for all the good stuff, Mr. DeZuniga. Our condolences and best wishes to his family.
**********
Swear to God, my first thought was, “No way. A week after Tony DeZuniga? This is so not fair.”
But fairness doesn’t enter into it, I guess. We’ve lost another great one, just a week later. Ernie Chan has passed away at the age of seventy-one.
I don’t really have any personal reminiscences about Mr. Chan — at least, not that I didn’t basically recount here last week, writing about Tony DeZuniga. Ernie Chan was seated right next to him at that same Emerald City Con, and I was equally delighted to meet and thank him there as well.
He struck me as a really sweet guy, but kind of shy — when we met, he was content to sit and sketch and let Tony do most of the talking.
I first encountered his work on Batman, when he was still going by “Ernie Chua.”
I wasn’t very appreciative of the work then — I considered him mostly as the guy who’d unexpectedly replaced Jim Aparo on the concluding chapters of “Bat-Murderer!” and that colored my attitude towards the work more than it should have.
I got over it pretty quickly. I’ve always had a soft spot for good solid illustrators who could also tell a story, and this “Ernie Chua” guy who seemed to be all over the Bat books all of a sudden was certainly one of those. Not flashy, but good.
But it wasn’t until he moved over to Marvel and started going by Ernie Chan that I really became a fan. He was all over the place there too, mostly as an inker on books like Dr. Strange and Fantastic Four and Power Man/Iron Fist. He didn’t do full art that often, but when he did, it was good stuff. In particular, I loved his Hulk.
I think the reason Chan’s Hulk resonated with me is because it wasn’t as much of a typical spandex book as the others he’d been working on. The super-hero stuff never felt quite like it was a good fit.
Because really, even though he did a lot of super-hero comics, my opinion was then (and still is today) that Ernie Chan really didn’t come into his own until he found Conan the barbarian.
Both as an inker over John Buscema and doing full art himself, I always thought Chan was at his best in the Hyborian Age.
It wasn’t just me, either. Judging from the fan commissions he was doing that day at Emerald City, Conan was the clear favorite.
I don’t really have anything else to to say. He was good, I liked his work, it was a privilege to meet him and say so to his face. That’s all I’ve got.
Well, except for this.
We have the great good fortune, in comics, to still be able to meet and talk to the masters of this particular form, to hear their stories, to see them work. This is a gift that I don’t think gets celebrated nearly enough.
I’ve been privileged to meet a great many artists and writers at shows in recent years that worked on my favorite comics, and most of the older ones are sitting by themselves chatting with their tablemates when I come by. On the one hand I’m secretly pleased because it means they have time to talk to me, but it also annoys me because they should have lines. They should be getting more work. They should be appreciated.
We still have a great many of our Grand Masters of comics with us. For Christ’s sake, let’s take advantage of it while they’re still here — because, as this last year and particularly the last couple of months have shown us, they aren’t going to be here forever.
Our condolences to Ernie Chan’s friends and family, and also to the Phillipine [sic] art community for their second shocking loss in the space of a week. It’s just … so not fair.
