Greg Goldstein's Comic Art Gallery

Barry Windsor-Smith — Strange Brew

Marvel Premiere #3, July 1972

Barry Windsor-Smith drawing Doctor Strange. I wish we’d gotten more of that.

This page is from Marvel Premiere #3, the launch of Doc’s new bronze-age solo series and the only issue of the run fully penciled by Smith. He also plotted the story, with Stan Lee handling the script.

And what a story. Doctor Strange vs. Doctor Strange. It gave Smith plenty to work with, and this terrific page is one of the results. I could explain what’s happening, but that would spoil some of the fun. It’s worth reading.

Trust me on this.

Smith helped usher in a new wave of young, “hipper” artists taking on Doc. Windsor-Smith. Starlin. Brunner. Different approaches, but all well suited to a character whose adventures could go pretty much anywhere. The stories and art got even trippier—which, considering where Ditko and Colan had already taken him, is saying something.

Marvel had been easing Doc back into circulation, first as a founding member of the Defenders and then with a major guest-starring role in Amazing Spider-Man. Now he had a series again. Well, technically, he took over Marvel Premiere for nearly two years before getting his own title back. Close enough.

One fully penciled issue. I’m glad we got it. Like I said, wish we’d gotten a few more.

It’s October, so we’re celebrating Halloween all month with some appropriately spooky selections from the collection. No costume required. (Although it helps.)

Jack Kirby — Immortals & Demons

Journey Into Mystery #125, February 1966

Here’s a great action page from Journey into Mystery #125 — the “final” issue before the book simply became Thor with #126.

It had been a long time coming. Monsters, aliens and demons had once filled Marvel’s story lineup, but by 1966 they’d pretty much been pushed aside — unless, as here, they were turning up as antagonists in the superhero books. Kirby, of course, never really stopped drawing monsters. Now they just had Thor to deal with.

Nothing new has been said about inker Vince Colletta in about 50 years, so I don’t have much to add to that conversation. I will say that I’m finally hearing more fans acknowledge that his Thor work, as evidenced here, isn’t bad at all — and in places, it’s quite good.

Colletta may have been an imperfect match for Kirby, but on Thor he often brought something that worked: a lighter, more decorative touch that suited the fantasy setting. And he certainly knew how to make the Asgardians look pretty and regal. (All that work on those romance titles paid off.)

But, as always, Kirby supplies the heart of the story — the movement, the scale, the impact. And, in this case, a reminder that Marvel’s monsters hadn’t really gone away. They’d just found themselves in a different kind of comic book.

Jack Kirby — Fantastic 4Ever

Fantastic Four #100, July 1970

A few days ago marked the 65th publication anniversary of Fantastic Four #1, which hit the stands in August 1961. Stan Lee and Jack Kirby went on to produce 102 consecutive issues together, plus annuals — arguably the greatest sustained superhero family soap opera in comics history.

My first Fantastic Four off the stands was #63. After that, thanks to the usual childhood complications of schedules, availability and, mostly, money, I bought the book intermittently until somewhere around #98. From there, I don’t think I missed an issue for about 20 years.

And yes, I eventually went back and completed the run, as quickly as budget would allow.

Of course I did.

Fantastic Four #100 was also the first big Marvel anniversary issue I ever bought new, soon followed by Amazing Spider-Man #100 and Avengers #100. Triple-digit issue numbers felt like very serious business when you were a kid.

Which brings me to this page of original art.

I missed it the first time it came up for sale and figured I had blown it. Then, through an odd twist of fate, it became available again.

Couldn’t believe my luck.

Kirby pencils. Joe Sinnott inks. The whole team is here, along with Crystal, plus “Kang.”

Well, technically an android pretending to be Kang.

But I digress.

I also remember looking at the cover of #100 in 1970 and pretty much guessing the premise before I even read it.

Which tells me that, even at that age, I was already reading way too many damn comic books.

Jack Kirby — The Marvel Age Of Monsters

“Sserpo,” Amazing Adventures #6, November 1961

Jack Kirby would have turned 109 this month, which seems like the perfect excuse to celebrate one of his wonderfully ridiculous pre-Marvel monsters.

Meet Sserpo: a big, dumb creature with an even dumber spelling, brought to you by Kirby and Stan Lee in the first week of August 1961.

And what a great Kirby page this is.

Scientists shouting. Jets firing uselessly. Sserpo stomping across Canada. And then that enormous final panel, with Kirby pushing the monster so far into the foreground that he practically takes over the page.

Big, bold, absurd—and completely irresistible.

But Sserpo is more than just another giant monster.

Because one week later, Stan and Jack would unleash another one. Only this time, they brought along the Fantastic Four to fight him.

And just like that, everything changed.

One week separated the fading days of Marvel’s monster era from the beginning of the Marvel Universe—and, ultimately, the rebirth of an entire industry.

Of course, no one knew it at the time.

Not Stan. Not Jack. And certainly not the thousands of readers who had been happily gobbling up these stories for the previous four years.

To them, Sserpo was just another monster at the newsstand.

A week later, it was a whole new ballgame.

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.

Erik Larsen, Paul Ryan & Al Milgrom — Fantastic Encore

Fantastic Four: World’s Greatest Comics Magazine #2, March 2001

Fantastic Four: World’s Greatest Comics Magazine isn’t like a sequel to Lee and Kirby’s original run—it is one. Same premise, same mission: pick up the world’s greatest comic right after issue #100 and keep the engine humming.

This mini-series exists because a generation of creators grew up fluent in Kirby’s visual language and wanted to continue it, not reinterpret it. No grim updating. No clever winks. Just more Fantastic Four.

This page nails that idea perfectly. Erik Larsen provides the layouts, setting up classic, confident storytelling. Paul Ryan delivers clean, readable draftsmanship. Al Milgrom locks it all together with classic Marvel authority. You get the full team, Crystal, and Namor battling the Sentry—all in one terrific page of original art.

Across the series, the creative roster reads like a roll call of die-hard Kirby believers. Other contributors included Bruce Timm, Ron Frenz, Keith Giffen, and Rick Veitch—artists who didn’t just admire Kirby, they revered him and understood what made the Fantastic Four tick.

What makes World’s Greatest Comics Magazine special is its confidence. It doesn’t explain itself. It assumes the Fantastic Four never stopped being the future. In that sense, it isn’t nostalgia—it’s continuity of imagination. And that’s about as Fantastic Four as it gets.

Jack Kirby & Joe Sinnott — Fantastic, 4ever

Fantastic Four #76, July 1968

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.

Ashley Holt — In Good Company

Commission, April 2024

I discovered Ashley Holt’s terrific portrait illustrations a few years ago — via Howard Chaykin — and became an ardent admirer from day one. He’s depicted some of our favorite people in colorful and instantly recognizable form.

Now, I’ve joined the club.

Ashley is a pleasure to deal with. He sells prints and books, takes commissions, and has a lovely website that makes it easy to admire or acquire his art. 

Additionally, he has a well-written Substack column (“The Symptoms”), where he employs a lively — and occasionally biting — style that matches the spirit of his art. 

Follow / subscribe to everything he offers, and you won’t be disappointed.

Trust me on this.

As for Ash’s note about this illustration of yours truly?:

“Greg Goldstein, comics art connoisseur and former CEO of IDW Publishing, posing in front of a Jack Kirby drawing of a comics character who shall not be named for reasons of trademark law but who is definitely not riding a surfboard of any kind.”

Find Ashley here —

https://www.ashleyholt.com

https://thesymptoms.substack.com

Doug Wildey — Wildey Wild West

Gunsmoke Western #57, March 1960

How much of a perfectionist was the great Doug Wildey? He knew there was no chance the printed comic books of 1960 could capture the fine details in his draftsmanship, but he drew them anyway.

This is the second Wildey Atlas western title splash I’ve managed to acquire, and like the first, it’s a beauty. In fact, even more stunning.

By chance, this page was only display and offered for sale a few moments during last year’s San Diego Comic Con when I happened on it. I’m sure it would have been gone had I come by an hour or more later.

As I noted previously, Doug Wildey was an amazing storyteller and draftsman. Don’t just take my word for it — ask Stan Lee.

Back in about 2010, we visited Stan in his Beverly Hills office to get some pages signed for the first John Romita Spider-Man Artists Edition from IDW Publishing. Stan’s “people” were kind enough to let us bring some personal items to get signed as well, so I brought a few pages of original art with me. 

Stan, who was telling stories and singing while he was signing (Yes, singing, not a typo for signing. Story for another day.) stopped dead in his tracks when he saw this page of art. 

He stared at it quietly for a few moments — given the speedy pace of our morning, it seemed like an eternity — and you could see pleasant memories wash over his face. And then the big Stan Lee smile:

“Doug Wildey. Wow. He was great. So terrific. I loved his stuff. I wish we had a chance to do more together.” 

He handed the page back to me, still beaming, still examining it up and down as he slowly passed it back.  I had seen Stan sign thousands of items; many of them with fond remembrances, but nothing quite like this.

I’m sure he would have had the same reaction to this page as well.

John Buscema — Man On Fire

Sub-Mariner #3, June 1968

Five straight weeks in the Spring of 1968. Five comic book issues drawn by the legendary John Buscema:

Sub-Mariner #3

Avengers #53

Sub-Mariner #4

Avengers #54

Silver Surfer #1 (38 pages)

Gems. Every single one. (And yes, I might be biased, because these comics are from my newsstand-era sweet spot — 1967-1973 — but I’m not wrong.) My guess is that only Jack Kirby ever had an achievement similar, or greater.

This Sub-Mariner page featuring Namor and Triton is the best Buscema superhero page I’ve ever owned, and unless an amazing opportunity comes my way, will likely remain that way. 

Dynamic inks from one of John’s favorite inkers, Frank Giacoia.

All action. 

Just terrific.