Great Filipino Conan artists

[Deleted]

The Filipino artists who enhanced Buscema's work and were great artists in their own right.

Ernie Chan




Tony Dezuniga

[deuce]

I always liked Steve Gan as well.

[Deleted]

Feb 10, 2016 18:04:55 GMT -5 deuce said:

I always liked Steve Gan as well.

This one's for you Deuce,


Conan vs Amra was great!

[deuce]

Thanks! That was a few issues after I started buying regularly. Classic story arc.

IMO, Gan's inks look a lot like JB's own. Much moreso than the other Filipino inkers.

[deuce]

How about Rudy Nebres?

[deuce]

...or Nestor Redondo?

[Deleted]

Feb 10, 2016 19:49:00 GMT -5 deuce said:

...or Nestor Redondo?

Is there a touch of Nestor Redondo in there with Buscema and Dezuniga?



Nestor's cover to this issue was pretty good too.

[deuce]

Feb 11, 2016 13:08:14 GMT -5 @hunnu said:

Feb 10, 2016 19:49:00 GMT -5 deuce said:

...or Nestor Redondo?

Is there a touch of Nestor Redondo in there with Buscema and Dezuniga?



Nestor's cover to this issue was pretty good too.

Ooops. Got hasty with that. Definitely TdZ inks. Here's legit Redondo:

[zarono]

Sonny Trinidad

[Deleted]

Nearly forgot about Sonny Trinidad 

[deuce]

Feb 10, 2016 16:24:11 GMT -5 @hunnu said:

Alfredo Alcala

Here's a great piece by Mario Guevara (DHC Solomon Kane):

As mentioned above, another great influence on my life and work was the singular talent of Alfredo Alcala. I was fortunate enough to meet my idol a few times. It was my third trip in a row to the San Diego Comic-Con, though, that I spoke with him for the last time. I casually walked by Phillip Yha's table, after I saw that Alfredo Alcala's German friend (who was always with Alcala) was there, too. I walked up close and asked where the master was. The answer was a hand signal, telling me that he was asleep.

Asleep?

Suddenly, someone came out from under the table. He was sleeping right there! He recognized me even though it had been over a year since we'd seen each other, and he asked me that same old question: "How's Saturnino Herran?" I gave him that same old answer: "He passed away, master." "What a shame." Alcala reminded me of his time in the Philippines when they took him to all the art workshops.

I wanted to go outside and smoke a cigarette, so he came with me. He understood Spanish very well but had a bit of a hard time speaking it. "Americans can't pronounce my name very well," I said. And while we were walking outside the building he replied: "When you work in the U.S., you will have to change your name."

"Hmmm . . . what should I call myself?" I asked.

"Well, SEATEEN sounds good," he said -- and then he explained to me what it meant and started laughing loudly. I knew he was just kidding.

I kept smoking my cigarette, and we walked over the railroad tracks and down the street until we found a 7-Eleven type store. I told him I'd buy him something, and the only thing he wanted was a cold bun with sausages in it. I picked the same thing, and I only had money left for one soda, so we shared it. I sat down on the curb, there wasn't sidewalk space around, but I didn't mind. Alfredo kneeled in an unusual position that reminded me of the way my grandfather and the people at our ranch in my hometown would kneel.

We finished our snacks, and I offered him some soda. I asked him to tell me more about the Philippines, so he started talking about his childhood when he lived on an island close to Formosa and it was invaded by the Japanese.

"So you were in the war, master?" I asked.

"I was very young. I just helped a little," he replied, "One day an American man came up to me and asked if I wanted to help my country, and I told him I did. So when the Japanese buried land mines I would watch where they did it, remember the spots, and then run to the Americans and draw the location of each mine. I did that for a while, but one day my mom discovered what I was doing and beat me all the way into the house. I supposed that she hit me because I was putting myself in danger, but I think she only did it because she thought I was being mischievous."

People passed by and looked at us as if we were bums. They didn't know that I was talking with Alfredo Alcala, one of the best Filipino artists and the best inker for John Buscema's Conan work. If they had known that, they would have probably sat down on the ground as I did to listen to what he had to say.

While Alfredo was talking, he was drawing a sketch for me. Someone approached, a very well-dressed blonde guy, and he sat by my side. After that, someone else joined us. The soda didn't seem to finish, and I started smoking another cigarette. When I finished it I stood up, and my butt was numb. I told the master that I had to go.


I went back to the Convention Center, and as I did, I kept looking back at the people who continued sitting and queuing around him. That was the last time I saw Alfredo. He died two years later.

[Deleted]

Feb 19, 2016 17:17:19 GMT -5 deuce said:

Feb 10, 2016 16:24:11 GMT -5 @hunnu said:

Alfredo Alcala

Here's a great piece by Mario Guevara (DHC Solomon Kane):

As mentioned above, another great influence on my life and work was the singular talent of Alfredo Alcala. I was fortunate enough to meet my idol a few times. It was my third trip in a row to the San Diego Comic-Con, though, that I spoke with him for the last time. I casually walked by Phillip Yha's table, after I saw that Alfredo Alcala's German friend (who was always with Alcala) was there, too. I walked up close and asked where the master was. The answer was a hand signal, telling me that he was asleep.

Asleep?

Suddenly, someone came out from under the table. He was sleeping right there! He recognized me even though it had been over a year since we'd seen each other, and he asked me that same old question: "How's Saturnino Herran?" I gave him that same old answer: "He passed away, master." "What a shame." Alcala reminded me of his time in the Philippines when they took him to all the art workshops.

I wanted to go outside and smoke a cigarette, so he came with me. He understood Spanish very well but had a bit of a hard time speaking it. "Americans can't pronounce my name very well," I said. And while we were walking outside the building he replied: "When you work in the U.S., you will have to change your name."

"Hmmm . . . what should I call myself?" I asked.

"Well, SEATEEN sounds good," he said -- and then he explained to me what it meant and started laughing loudly. I knew he was just kidding.

I kept smoking my cigarette, and we walked over the railroad tracks and down the street until we found a 7-Eleven type store. I told him I'd buy him something, and the only thing he wanted was a cold bun with sausages in it. I picked the same thing, and I only had money left for one soda, so we shared it. I sat down on the curb, there wasn't sidewalk space around, but I didn't mind. Alfredo kneeled in an unusual position that reminded me of the way my grandfather and the people at our ranch in my hometown would kneel.

We finished our snacks, and I offered him some soda. I asked him to tell me more about the Philippines, so he started talking about his childhood when he lived on an island close to Formosa and it was invaded by the Japanese.

"So you were in the war, master?" I asked.

"I was very young. I just helped a little," he replied, "One day an American man came up to me and asked if I wanted to help my country, and I told him I did. So when the Japanese buried land mines I would watch where they did it, remember the spots, and then run to the Americans and draw the location of each mine. I did that for a while, but one day my mom discovered what I was doing and beat me all the way into the house. I supposed that she hit me because I was putting myself in danger, but I think she only did it because she thought I was being mischievous."

People passed by and looked at us as if we were bums. They didn't know that I was talking with Alfredo Alcala, one of the best Filipino artists and the best inker for John Buscema's Conan work. If they had known that, they would have probably sat down on the ground as I did to listen to what he had to say.

While Alfredo was talking, he was drawing a sketch for me. Someone approached, a very well-dressed blonde guy, and he sat by my side. After that, someone else joined us. The soda didn't seem to finish, and I started smoking another cigarette. When I finished it I stood up, and my butt was numb. I told the master that I had to go.


I went back to the Convention Center, and as I did, I kept looking back at the people who continued sitting and queuing around him. That was the last time I saw Alfredo. He died two years later.

That was beautiful story from Mario Guevara.

Very nice picture of Voltar as well.

Thanks Duece 

[deuce]

Let's not forget Alex Nino:

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alex_Ni%C3%B1o





I know lots of people think he's a little too wild, but I've loved his work since I was in grade school. He was by far the most original of the Filipino Invasion. Alex's imaginative reach was something to behold. He also was able to draw action on his own (as opposed to just inking JB) much better than the others.

[Deleted]

Feb 20, 2016 15:49:46 GMT -5 deuce said:

Let's not forget Alex Nino:

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alex_Ni%C3%B1o





I know lots of people think he's a little too wild, but I've loved his work since I was in grade school. He was by far the most original of the Filipino Invasion. Alex's imaginative reach was something to behold. He also was able to draw action on his own (as opposed to just inking JB) much better than the others.

Alex Nino, his art on 'People of the Dark' was brilliant. 



We should have been treated to more of his work on REH's characters.

[Deleted]

Jess Jodloman SSOC 8