Cover Comparison

Two of my favorite oil paintings are by the German Romantic painter, Caspar David Friedrich (1774-1840). They are The Wanderer above the Mists, c. 1817-1818, and the Dreamer (Ruins of the Oybin Monastery), c. 1835.

Known primarily as a landscape painter, Caspar Friedrich often placed human figures into his scenes to express his recurring theme of the insignificance of the individual in relation to the power of nature. In The Wanderer above the Mist, Friedrich shows a man poised on a rocky peak, his back to us, gazing out at a mist shrouded landscape, with mountains looming in the distance. Seeing what the man sees, we share his feeling of awe, standing alone in a sea of fog, inspired by the grandeur of the view. The man's stance is one of pure confidence though, even withstanding Friedrich's will at making him seem insignificant. After all, the man did find his way to the top of the world with only a walking stick. That's willful by anyone's definition.

In Dreamer, Friedrich has a man sitting in the arch of a ruined monastery in apparent contemplation. The twilight glow, as well as the towering ruins, are conspicuous and imposing. The man much less so. But what if the man were standing, staring apprehensively past the arch. What if he were poised in fear, or better yet, looking at us from the other side of the arch, eyes bulged out with hands grasping at the stone. It changes everything then. Suddenly the ruins take on a different appearance, becoming mysterious, even sinister perhaps.

Some of my favorite horror comic covers emulate Friedrich's basic layout, but in a thoroughly abstracted way. Some even conjure up the same feelings of awe, wonder, or trepidation at facing the power and uncertainty of the unknown, or known (which replaces nature here). In an incalculable horror setting, man's relevance is often reduced to insignifcance, just as it is in Friedrich's paintings.

The first two issue's of Adventures Into The Unknown, published in 1948 by the American Comics Group (ACG), had covers illustrated by a talented and elusive artist named Edvard Moritz. Moritz created the same situation for each cover; a man and a woman confronting a potentially risky circumstance. For issue #1 it's a scary old dilapitated house the couple are about to enter. Bats are silhouetted against a harvest moon, lending additional atmosphere.

For issue #2 the couple are steering a raft towards an island (or land mass) shaped like a monster's horrible skull. Both covers are drafted with care, letting us as viewers participate in the moment also. Interesting enough, Adventures Into the Unknown was not the first horror comic book to be published (Avon's one-shot Eerie Comics in 1947 holds that distinction), but it was the first continuously published horror comic book, rolling out a total of 174 issues in nineteen years, a fairly impressive run by any publishing standard. A lot of memorable covers were produced during that stretch, including several by Edvard Moritz.

Mimicking Friedrich in his own weird way, artist Steve Ditko's cover for Amazing Adult Fantasy #13 (Marvel June 1962) has us looking at the same skyline that his creature sees, as it slowly hoists itself out of the water. Is it awe that the beast feels as it stares out at the beyond, or is it merely formulating malevolent thoughts in preparation to an incursion? Ditko opens up a potent window of imagination here.

With Ghosts #16 (DC Comics 1973), artist Nick Cardy has us confronting a murky and ill-defined image in the shrouded mist. But we all know what's going on in the mind of at least one of the two protagonists; his body language says it all. Cardy began his career in comics in 1939 at age 18, eventually landing at DC Comics and becoming one of their most productive illustrators. He drew dozens of expressive covers for DC's horror lineup during the Sixties and Seventies.

On the cover of Fantastic Fears #7 (Ajax-Farrell 1954), we know exactly what our couple is feeling as they witness a monstrous alien head bursting from the ground-- shock and awe-- and sudden panic. This uncredited illustration is obviously more literal in its depiction than what Friedrich usually shows us in his interpretive persuasions. Ajax published only 9 issues of Fantastic Fears, but nearly every cover was maniacally picturesque without sacrificing aesthetics.

For Spellbound #28 (Atlas/Marvel June 1956), acclaimed artist Bill Everett has his protagonist bursting through a door, astonished at seeing something that's not quite revealed to us. What the stiff people in the background are doing further adds to the mystery. They could be in pursuit, albeit very slowly like the walking dead, or frozen, suspended in time. The caption does read that time is standing still, and perhaps what the man has discovered is the last woman on earth that's still moving under her own power. That could explain his profound reaction.

Charlton Comics This Magazine is Haunted #12 (July 1956), has artist Steve Ditko showing us a cloaked figure tentatively approaching a rambling manor house-- or is the figure merely poised in discovery, seeing those attic lights on? Take away the title and caption and we are left speculating about who he is, and what his motives are. Is he someone to be feared? Or is he just a traveler seeking shelter from the storm in the only available station house? Once again, Ditko's masterful illustration is effective at rousing our imagination.

In Mystery Tales #32 (Atlas/Marvel 1954), artist Carl Burgos has us looking into the great beyond, across an ether spanning bridge to a possible infinity. Or maybe to... no-where at all, as the caption readily suggests. Or is no-where the same thing as infinity? With Burgos' thought provoking illustration, we are suddenly back into Caspar Freidrich's contemplative realm, awed by the spectacle of a bridge which in theory can't exist in our known world.

Because I'm only an art admirer and not a critic, I prefer placing fine art and illustration on the same dimensional plane-- but there is a difference between the two. Art is customarily vague, subject to perception, speculation and interpretation, while illustration is usually strict and undistorted, showing us a scene or an action that is precisely laid out, quite often in exacting detail.

Both mediums lure us into their renderings using a variety of shared methods. With illustration, talented draftsmen do more than just provide visuals, they insert emotion, drama and mystery into their work, encouraging our imagination in almost the same way that fine artists do, by feeding our insatiable appetite for intellectual stimulation with profundity and formulation.