Greg Goldstein's Comic Art Gallery

Category: Original Art and The Artists

Jack Kirby & Joe Sinnott — Fantastic, 4ever

Original Art and The Artists

Fantastic Four #76, July 1968

Jack Kirby & Joe Sinnott original art from Fantastic Four #76 --- from the collection of Greg Goldstein

Sixty-five years on, The Fantastic Four still feels like Marvel figuring itself out in real time—and getting it spectacularly right. These weren’t heroes born in alleys or back rooms; they were a product of the early ’60s, when the Space Race filled the headlines and the future felt thrilling, reckless, and inevitable. Rockets were launching, limits were being tested, and the question wasn’t should we go farther—it was how fast can we get there. Marvel’s cosmic imagination starts right here, with four people charging into the unknown.

And speaking of charging ahead—just look at this page by Jack Kirby, beautifully locked down by Joe Sinnott. This isn’t just a shrinking sequence; it’s Kirby inventing scale. Machines loom like alien vistas, panels crackle with motion, and your eye doesn’t just read the page—it gets pulled inside it. Sinnott’s inks keep all that chaos crisp, clear, and impossibly confident.

I continue to believe the first 100 issues (and especially the marvelous three-year stretch from about issues #39–76) of The Fantastic Four rank among the most important runs in comic-book history—one long creative hot streak where the ideas redefined pretty much everything that came before.

I’m never going to referee who did what between Kirby and Stan Lee, but one thing is pretty obvious: Lee contributed much of the personality, friction, and soap-opera snap that made the cosmic feel personal. The Fantastic Four bicker, joke, and melt down while rewriting reality—and that mix of big ideas and human irritation became Marvel’s calling card.

Happy 65th to the Fantastic Four: Marvel’s original first family, and a wondrous revolution in comic books.

The Silver Surfer splash from this issue is so striking and iconic that it was later selected as one of Marvel’s classic licensed blacklight posters.

Erik Larsen & Sal Buscema — Defenders, Disassemble

Original Art and The Artists

Defenders #7, September 2001

Here’s a fun title page from the great Erik Larsen, inked by the always-amazing Sal Buscema. If you like the Defenders, how can you not love this?

Larsen packs the composition as if he’s cramming an entire issue into a single image—a glorious jumble of big personalities and startled reactions, with a barely contained Hulk dominating the page and everyone else looking like they’ve wandered into the wrong cosmic crisis.

Loud, funny, and bursting with life, this Defenders run—written by Larsen with Kurt Busiek nearly 25 years ago—is pure, entertaining chaos. These heroes are powerful and iconic, sure, but also an endearingly oddball bunch who often seem annoyed to be sharing the same space.

Come for the heroics. Stay for the dysfunctional group dynamics.

Thanks for stopping by in 2025 — see you next year!

Jack Kirby & Mike Royer— Ragnarök at the North Pole

Original Art and The Artists

The Best of DC #22, March 1982 (Intended for Sandman #7, —Unpublished — 1975)

When Jack Kirby wanted to make an entrance, he didn’t tiptoe — he detonated. This Sandman title page kicks down the door, grabs you by the collar, and announces, “Strap in — things are about to get very weird.”

Only he could take a story called The Seal Men’s War on Santa Claus and treat it like Ragnarök at the North Pole. The floating spheres, extra moons, and cosmic backdrop all calmly insist, “Relax — this is exactly how dreams are supposed to look.”

Down on the ground, Sandman is carving a path through a crowd of angry Seal Men, cape swirling, fists flying, looking every bit like someone who rescues Santa on an annual basis. Jed is right beside him, doing his best with a staff that’s taller than he is, while poor Santa watches from the background, wrapped up like he’s on the world’s least festive gift list.

Mike Royer’s inks give the whole scene its crisp, confident snap — bold lines, clear action, and just enough shadow to keep the mayhem grounded.

It’s light, it’s wild, and it is unmistakably DC Kirby — a dream-world dust-up where everyone seems to believe in the moment. 

Even Santa.

Has any comic story ever been cancelled twice? Jack Kirby holds a lot of comic-book records, but this one might be the strangest.

Sandman #7 was fully finished when DC pulled the plug on the series after issue #6 in 1975. The completed story went into limbo — filed away, forgotten, probably wondering what it did wrong. A few years later, DC tried again, planning to incorporate it narratively (don’t ask) in Kamandi #61… and then the infamous “DC Implosion” hit. Kamandi was cancelled too.

It finally escaped publishing purgatory in Best of DC #22, a digest-sized Christmas special from late 1981 — because if you’re going to rescue a lost Kirby comic, why not do it as a bite-sized stocking stuffer?

Sigh.

It arrived late, sure — but fortunately, Kirby pages age better than most publishing plans. 

(And now, fortunately, you can find a full-size version collected in The Kirby DC Bronze Age Omnibus. The perfect Christmas present to give yourself.)

John Buscema & Tom Palmer — Avengers, Assemble

Original Art and The Artists

Avengers #84, January 1971

John Buscema was the Avengers artist of the late ’60s and early ’70s—despite famously claiming he didn’t much care for superheroes.

Every panel feels like it could’ve been pulled from a widescreen adventure film, even when the scene is nothing more than a nightmare and a jolting wake-up. That was his magic: Buscema could make anything feel epic.

This page shows exactly how he defined the Avengers in that era. Grace, power, and cinematic clarity are baked into every beat, transforming a bad dream into something memorable—and unmistakably Avengers.

Behind the scenes, Marvel was running hot. Kirby had just left for DC, schedules were tightening, pages were due, and assignments were shifting fast. You can feel a stronger Tom Palmer inking presence here than in some earlier issues, suggesting John may have supplied looser pencils as deadline pressure mounted and the machine kept moving.

Marvel may have been in motion, but Buscema’s vision was locked in.

Bruce Timm —High-Flying, Forever

Original Art and The Artists

Rocketeer Adventures #3, July 2011

If you ever wonder whether the Rocketeer can fly without Dave Stevens, Bruce Timm answers by lighting the fuse and grinning. His illustrations in IDW’s Rocketeer Adventures #3 “pulp” tale from Joe Lansdale aren’t a tribute—they’re a full-throttle spin.

Timm tears across this two-page spread with a crisp, mid-century snap that makes me think a Rocketeer animated series would be pure rocket-fueled dynamite.

Stevens built a world roomy enough for great artists to play in. He gave us pulp heroics, Hollywood glamour, and Cliff Secord—our beloved jet-propelled knucklehead who means well, screws up spectacularly, and somehow still wins the day—and Betty, too.

Stevens created a timeless hero. Timm shows why he stays timeless. He’s not preserving the legacy—he’s joyriding it.

(And yes, I would love to own that gorgeous faux pulp cover below.)

Gene Colan & Joe Sinnott— The “Superior” Captain America

Original Art and The Artists

Captain America #118, October 1969

This page from Captain America #118 is Gene Colan doing exactly what Gene Colan did best. From the first panel, Cap isn’t just moving—he’s practically sliding across the page like someone leaned on the fast-forward button. Colan drew superheroes like actors caught mid-scene, all shifting weight and fluid motion.

And that crowd! That outstretched arm is peak Colan—bold, intrusive, unapologetically cinematic. It shoves you right into the scene. It feels like a real city having a very weird day.

Then come those deep, moody shadows he loved so much. He could drop a black shape over half a figure and somehow make it more expressive, not less.

Colan never cared about matching the “house style,” and he certainly didn’t draw superheroes who looked like they’d just ironed their costumes. Shadows, posture, movement—those were his tools. You either vibed with it or you didn’t. I loved it. Some of my friends… not so much. (Especially when some of his other inkers couldn’t quite figure out what Gene was doing… or why.)

But even the skeptics had to admit — nobody, before or since, has drawn comics quite like Gene Colan.

Why is Cap running from the crowded thinking vindictive thoughts? I’m glad you asked. Because, thanks to the cosmic cube, the Red Skull has taken control of Cap, and things are about to take a turn…

Curt Swan & George Klein — Feats of Strength

Original Art and The Artists

Action Comics #304, September 1963

If you ever need proof that George Klein was Curt Swan’s best inker on the Superman books, just pull out this page from Action Comics #304. No explanations required—the art does the bragging for you.

From the first panel, Swan gives Superman that clean, honest pose only he could draw, and Klein locks it down with lines that are confident without showing off. Superman looks strong, sure—but also human. That balance? Classic Klein.

Jump to the big panel—Superman wrangling those hilariously oversized javelins—and you see the Swan/Klein team firing on all cylinders. Klein never wrestles for control; he boosts Swan, picking exactly the right details and politely ignoring the ones that don’t matter.

Across the page, the “S” shield is crisp, the cape moves like actual fabric, and the crowd reads clearly without becoming a visual traffic jam. It’s the kind of clean storytelling that looks effortless—until you see someone else try it.

And that bottom tier—Lana’s concern, Superman’s sheepish dignity—Klein hits it perfectly. Just enough warmth to make the moment feel lived-in.

Look, I love Murphy Anderson on Swan. (And pretty much everywhere else.) But the truth is simple:

George Klein doesn’t just ink Swan. He completes him.

I had my eye on this page for a while before I finally pulled the trigger — and I’m certainly glad I did.

Fun Fact: The story itself is a reworking of an earlier Golden Age story, published seven years earlier in Action #220.
It’s Thanksgiving Day tomorrow, which means it’s time for the annual Macy’s NYC parade. I think it’s about time we get a new Superman balloon: From L-R: Superman in the 80s, 60s and 40s.

Steve Ditko — Beware The Creeper (& DC’s Publishing Strategy)

Original Art and The Artists

Beware The Creeper #3, October 1968

Here’s a great Beware The Creeper page from issue #3. The Creeper (Jack Ryder) in every panel with classic Steve Ditko action and composition.

The Creeper was Ditko’s first superhero work for DC— just ahead of Hawk and Dove —and even as a kid, I recognized its offbeat genius. I had already admired Ditko’s talents from the Spider-Man reprints in Marvel Tales, and also in his Charlton work on Captain Atom, Blue Beetle, and The Question. 

But this quirky title definitely found a sweet spot for me.

In the late 60s, DC didn’t stick with any title that didn’t find an immediate audience — so naturally, it only lasted six issues. 

Sigh. 

Funny thing about this specific art page: If I recall correctly, I almost owned it about a dozen years ago in a purchase/trade that went south at the last minute.

Second time is a charm, I guess. Better late than never. (Two cliches for the price of one!)

As for DC’s publishing strategy:

I’m sure someone has compiled a comprehensive list of all the titles that DC launched in the late 1960s and early 70s and lasted less than a dozen issues.

Without thinking too hard, I came up with these:

The Spectre; Secret Six; Inferior 5; Anthro; Brother Power The Geek; Plastic Man; Hawk and Dove and Angel and The Ape.  (Not to mention Jacky Kirby’s New Gods and Forever People, et al.) And, if you include licensed books, add in Captain Action and Hot Wheels.

That was a lot of work for few, if any, meaningful results.

Good thing the Superman and Batman titles were money machines.

Joe Kubert — Sure Shot

Original Art and The Artists

Our Army At War #145, August 1964

Joe Kubert likely drew more pages of war combat than any other artist in the history of comics.

And you would be hard-pressed to find any of his covers or stories that glorified combat.

Gritty? Yes. Realistic? Absolutely. Action-oriented? Of course. Suspenseful? Nearly every time.

But Kubert’s stories — typically collaborating with writer Bob Kanigher — focused on the horrors and tragedies of war. And his distinctive, roughhewn art, was a perfect fit for the genre.

If anyone created a “War Artists Hall of Fame” the inaugural class would likely feature Harvey Kurtzman, Jack Davis, Wallace Wood, and Russ Heath. 

And Kubert should absolutely be at the top of that list.

Happy Veteran’s Day, 2025. 

Today sees the arrival of a new reprint series: DC Finest — War, The Big Five Arrive, joining others that include the DC War Artist’s Edition a much earlier reprint, America at War. All four volumes of a DC archive collection reprinting Sgt. Rock are long out of print, and naturally, much sought after.

Kyle Baker — Take Hulk Out OF The Ballgame

Original Art and The Artists

Damage Control III, #1, June 1991

Damage Control is such a fun high concept; Someone needs to clean up after a big hero and villain melee lays waste to parts of a city. Why not a murky government agency with an apparently unlimited budget? The idea so good in fact, that it’s been well incorporated into the MCU, albeit with some changes along the away. 

Kyle Baker drew (pencils and inks) the final mini-series of the original three, and his art style was a perfect fit for the quirky, humorous nature of the stories.

And the things you learn from comics: Turns out the Incredible Hulk is a Yankees fan.

The Yankees should sign him up. He’s probably the only one who could consistently give Shohei Ohtani a run for his money as the most extraordinarily dominant player in the Major Leagues.

Then again, maybe not. For all we know, Otani is a mutant. Or an alien. He’s definitely other-worldly.

Fun fact: About 25 years ago, just as realistic “destructible environments” became reality in videogames, TQ Jefferson and I passionately tried to convince our colleagues at Activision that Damage Control would be a perfectly fun way to incorporate as many Marvel characters into one game as possible. 

Alas, executive management thought we were bonkers — a story for another day.