Greg Goldstein's Comic Art Gallery

Dave Dorman — Breaking Ground, Star Wars Style

Preliminary Art, Breaking Ground: Imperial Base, Moon of Endor Litho, Star Wars Celebration IV, 2012

If you’ve spent any serious time around Star Wars art over the last four decades, chances are you’ve spent time in the world of my buddy Dave Dorman.

For many fans, Dorman isn’t just a Star Wars artist—he’s one of the Star Wars painters.

From his stunning covers for Dark Horse Comics in the 1990s, to book covers, trading cards, posters, fine art, and official Lucasfilm commissions, Dave has helped define what Star Wars looks like for an entire generation.

And original Dorman Star Wars paintings aren’t exactly easy to come by. A fellow by the name of George Lucas acquired quite a few of them over the years… and the other collectors fortunate enough to own the others don’t tend to let them go.

The piece I’m sharing here isn’t the finished print fans saw in 2012.

It’s pretty obviously the preliminary—the original concept painting Dave created for his 2012 Star Wars Celebration VI limited edition print, Breaking Ground: Imperial Base, Moon of Endor.

And like many great prelims, you can almost see the ideas forming in real time—loose energy, compositional decisions, storytelling beats… all still wonderfully alive on the board.

When Dave first unveiled the finished piece on his blog back in 2012, fans naturally had questions—some about the Imperial Guards, some about the modified AT-STs, and yes… plenty about the Ewoks.

Fortunately, Dave answered them himself, and his comments offer a glimpse into how this scene came together:

Q: Dave, what was the original concept behind Breaking Ground?

Dave Dorman:
I wanted to incorporate elements I enjoy—AT-STs, Ewoks, and especially the Biker Scouts, who I think of as the hot-rodders of the Imperial forces—in a scene that’s never actually been shown, but nonetheless plays out in my own theater of the mind.

Q: One of the first things people notice is Darth Vader flanked by Imperial Guards. Why?

Dave Dorman:
First off, it was a compositional decision. I needed to draw your eye to Vader, and the bold red of the Imperial Guards against the cooler earth tones of the rest of the piece ensures he commands your attention. If he were simply standing among Stormtroopers, you might not notice him as readily.

Secondly, Vader is overseeing the Emperor’s construction of the second Death Star, so the Imperial Guards are there to ensure—and report back—that nothing is amiss on the Moon of Endor.

Q: The AT-STs here aren’t exactly standard issue…

Dave Dorman:
The Moon of Endor is a forested planet, so naturally deforestation would be part of constructing an Imperial base camp.

In my mind’s eye, the AT-STs made perfect sense as laborers because of their strength and adaptability. After all, the “AT” stands for “All Terrain,” so I replaced their heavy gun arrays with claws.

Q: And yes… those are Ewoks.

Dave Dorman:
Over the years, I’d had literally hundreds of fans ask me to paint Ewoks, so this piece was my tip of the hat to them.

Obviously the Ewoks would resist the Empire’s intrusion, so in this scene they’re creating chaos… and getting arrested.

Dave’s original blog post can still be found here:
Dave Dorman’s original 2012 blog post

Carmine Infantino — New Hope

Star Wars #11, May 1978

It took me a minute to get used to Carmine Infantino making the jump from DC Comics to Marvel Comics. He was such a DC institution.

And honestly, he wouldn’t have been my first choice for Star Wars—especially coming right on the heels of those first ten issues by Howard Chaykin. I probably would’ve gone with someone a little hipper, a little edgier.

But… I came around.

There’s something about Infantino’s take on Star Wars that just works for me. The quirks, the slightly offbeat energy… it all starts to click once you settle into it. Even the occasionally odd likenesses* became part of the charm. I figured if they were good enough for Lucasfilm, they were good enough for me.

This page is from his very first Star Wars issue (Terry Austin on inks), and about a year ago I somehow found myself in a bidding war over it. No grand strategy—just pure emotion, adrenaline, and collector impulse.

Still… it’s a very cool page, and I’m glad I ended up with it.

*That said… Chewbacca looks absolutely ridiculous here. I mean, come on, this wasn’t issue #1. Had Carmine even seen the film? Or at least flipped through a magazine?

And based on the published colors, Janice Cohen—normally terrific—may have needed a screening or two herself.

Yikes.

Liniers (Ricardo Siri) — May The Farce Be With You

Macanudo Strip, Undated, (Likely 2023 -2025)

If you know me at all, you already know this mash-up of Star Wars and The Far Side—by the very talented Liniers—was basically destined to end up with me.

Liniers (real name Ricardo Siri) is an Argentine cartoonist best known for the daily strip Macanudo. His work is smart, weird, whimsical, occasionally philosophical—and often laugh-out-loud funny. It has that rare quality of feeling both completely absurd and oddly insightful at the same time. If you’re a fan of Patrick McDonnell and Mutts, you’ll feel right at home… just with a slightly more surreal, international twist.

When people say a piece of art “speaks to you,” this is exactly what they mean.

It’s a good thing I happened to see it right when it went up for sale at San Diego Comic-Con last year, because I’m pretty sure someone else with similarly… let’s call them “oddball”… sensibilities would’ve grabbed it fast.

Fantagraphics has been reprinting Liniers’ work here in the U.S.—three volumes so far—and they’re absolutely worth owning. King Features Syndicate distributes the strip to newspapers, though those, sadly, are getting scarcer by the year.

Meanwhile, I’m looking forward to eventually seeing this one turn up in print in a future collection.

May the Farce be with you. (Sorry. Not sorry.)

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/comic-riffs/wp/2018/09/08/a-huge-latin-american-cartoon-hit-aims-to-crack-the-u-s-market

Mike Sekowsky — Team Effort

Justice League of America #25, February 1964

Here’s a very cool—and not all that common—page from Mike Sekowsky’s run on Justice League of America.

What jumps out right away is that you’ve got all five Leaguers from the issue sharing the same page. That wasn’t always the case—these stories often split the team into smaller groups, each getting their own chapter. So having everyone here, across multiple panels, really gives the page that full-on “team book” feel.

And then there’s Superman—front and center.

That’s actually a bit unusual in those early JLA years. He was around, sure, but often used a little more sparingly. Cover-wise, he’d only popped up a handful of times before this—and even then, kind of on the margins. Here, he feels like a real driver of the story, not just part of the roster.

This one’s from before my own newsstand era, which is part of the fun. Big, bold, early Silver Age stuff—goofy aliens, interdimensional problems, the kind of threats where you actually need a whole team. You’re not calling in the Justice League for a bank robbery.

And Sekowsky—never really labeled a top-tier stylist—but the guy could draw anything, in any situation, and keep the story moving. That’s a skill that’s easy to overlook, and shouldn’t be.

Just a great page—and a really nice slice of JLA history.

John & Sal Buscema — Soaring

Silver Surfer #7, August 1969

In the 1995 film Crimson Tide, there’s a loud argument between two sailors that escalates into a fight—written by Quentin Tarantino—about whether Jack Kirby’s Silver Surfer is better than Moebius’s.

It’s kind of a ludicrous debate. Not just heated—ludicrous. Because in the real world, no one ever really had that argument.

Moebius—brilliant as he was—did one relatively small graphic novel featuring the Surfer. It’s beautiful. No question. But is it influential enough to spark a barroom brawl? Probably not.

Now, a real debate? Kirby vs. John Buscema.

Buscema gave us 17 unforgettable issues of the Surfer’s original solo series. That’s a body of work you can actually argue about.

I’m not picking sides—I like both for different reasons. But here’s something that’s not up for debate:

John’s version, inked by his brother Sal Buscema, featuring the Surfer and his evil doppelgänger?

That’s pretty close to perfection.

And the Moebius reference? I still don’t quite get it.

Maybe “Buscema” was just harder to pronounce. 

Or maybe the French cinema market would appreciate the reference.

Wallace Wood — “On Your Toes…!”

Two-Fisted Tales #23, September-October 1951

This is a great Wallace Wood war page, from the classic EC Comics WWI story: “Old Soldiers Never Die.” (Two-Fisted Tales #23.)

I first discovered EC comics in late ’71 or early ’72, thanks to the incredible oversized Nostalgia Press collection, The EC Horror Library of the 1950’s.

From that moment on, I was hooked.

Maybe surprisingly, once I got past the initial shock value of the horror books, I realized I could kind of take them or leave them. But everything else? That was a different story.

Science fiction—absolutely.
Crime—of course.
Humor—what was better than Mad?

And those war comics… man.

Harvey Kurtzman’s storytelling was first-rate. And unlike the Al Feldstein-driven stories in the other genres, he typically let the art—more than captions or dialogue—carry the narrative.

If you had told 12-year-old me that one day I’d own original art from artists like Wally Wood, Jack Davis, and others, I would’ve thought you were completely out of your ever-loving mind.

To say I’m grateful to be the temporary caretaker of this art… that’s the understatement of the year.

Gil Kane — Not Pulling Punches

Detective Comics #374, April 1968

Nobody threw a punch quite like Gil Kane.

Not John Buscema. Not John Romita Sr.. Not even Jack Kirby.

When Gil’s heroes—or villains—cut loose, the poor victim didn’t just get hit. They came flying out of the panel toward you, arms and legs flailing, like they were trying (and failing) to stop themselves from being launched right out of the comic book.

A few years ago, Howard Chaykin—who got his start as Gil’s assistant—and I did a convention panel on swipes. We put together dozens of examples of Gil’s signature punch. Each one choreographed like he was inventing a brand-new dance.

Some of them were almost identical.

Sometimes in the same issue.

Sometimes on the same page.

Didn’t matter.

What mattered was this: when Gil threw a punch… it landed.

And this past Monday would have been Gil’s 100th birthday. Feels like a good time to remember how hard those punches still hit.

Gene Colan — I’m up on a tight wire…

Daredevil #31, August 1967

Fun facts about this great Daredevil half-splash from Gene Colan:

• This is one of the earliest issues (#31) of Daredevil I remember pulling off the rack as a kid. Before this, I can only clearly recall issues #27 and #30, plus Annual #1—which came out around the same time. Marvel had so few superhero books in spring/summer ’67 that you could realistically sample just about everything and figure out what clicked…and what didn’t.

• One thing I did figure out: I didn’t always love Daredevil (face it—some of those villains were rough… Leap-Frog?), but I absolutely latched onto Gene Colan’s art—both here and in Iron Man. That style just hit different, and I dug it.

Later on, I realized that wasn’t exactly a universal opinion. In a world dominated by Kirby, Romita, and the Marvel house style, Colan’s moody, off-kilter approach wasn’t for everyone.

Me? I couldn’t get enough of it—the wild poses, the strange angles, the sense that anything could happen panel to panel… even if you couldn’t always swear you knew what was happening.

I managed to acquire a Colan Daredevil half-splash and an Iron Man one (future post) within a few months of each other. Painful at the time, price-wise—but also pretty lucky in hindsight.

• Bonus realization: I was today years old when I noticed Electro was both a charter member of the “Sinister Six” (Spider-Man Annual #1) and leader of the “Emissaries of Evil” (Daredevil Annual #1). Guy clearly had a passion for group projects.

Or was a glutton for punishment.

Or both.

Daniel Clowes — Yellowstreak, Lost & Found

David Boring Graphic Novel, Hardcover Edition, February 2000

The back cover of the original hardcover edition of Daniel Clowes’s terrific graphic novel David Boring is basically a faux Silver Age splash page — and it’s a great one.

It stars the Yellow Streak, the comic-within-the-comic hero, racing across a stylized city while a reporter waves a microphone like something huge just happened. Around them are jagged starburst caption boxes… cleverly containing review quotes from TIME and Newsweek.

It’s a fun little meta gag — using the language of old superhero hype to sell a contemporary story about alienation and existential dread.

I’d had my eye on the original art for this piece for quite a while, because I love Clowes’s whole modern-retro thing. He’s clearly channeling mid-century comics — clean design, bold shapes, quirky characters — but filtering it through his own lens.

The original shows how carefully that look is built: crisp, confident brushwork and big open areas designed for flat color and classic screen-tone textures, just like the mechanical screens used in mid-century comic production.

It’s a great riff on those oddball ’60s comics from fly-by-night publishers that appeared — and often disappeared — without much of a trace.

Clowes really nails that vibe, doesn’t he?