RIP Dave Stevens - creator of The Rocketeer

[Sean Walsh]

He was only 53.

Mark Evanier, as always, has a fine write up at his blog:

http://www.newsfromme.com/archives/2008_03_11.html#014911

Forgot he was the guy who basically rediscovered Bettie Page and helped introduce her (via his "good girl art") to the modern era.

RIP Dave. :(

[Rockscissorspaper]

R.I.P.

Never read the book but remember reading articles about him back in the day in "Comic Scene" magazine.

[PamGrierOverdrive]

I just recently peeped a Valkyrie cover he did on an old issue of Airboy I have in my collection. Aside from being gorgeous, his stuff had an air of mystique about it because the times that he would actually work on comic books was so few and far between. A Madman pin-up here, a Vampirella TPB cover there. It's very sad to think now that there will never be the joy of seeing a new piece by Dave Stevens.

[Sabrina_Fried]

RIP Dave :(

Sabrina

[ultramandingo]

http://widget.slide.com/rdr/1/1/3/W/1700000005152e7d/1/57/aIX5Dba64z80fIZi2iK0L8S4aGR6j_Ck.jpg (http://www.slide.com/s/9mtlND4I3z_8NyNB6-G3aSSm43l4EtHJ?referrer=hlnk)

[TROUBLEZ]

I didn't know he had leukemia.
He's a great artist. I think he's the best at good girl art/cheesecake, but The Rocketeer is one of my favorite comics he's done, and one of my favorite comics stories in general.

[Dr.J.]

I believe he was four months and 19 days away from being 53,but tis a very moot point. makes me glad to see 53.I counted up all the pages he did for the rocketeer from 82 to 95,after re-reading them,and including covers front and back, there were but a mere 122 or so pages,187 or so if you counted the movie adaptation,by Russ Heath.I wish he had concentrated just on writing,and covers,then advanced the characters into the 40s and 50s,introduced a son or three,then taken the concept into the 60s.There was SO much more that could have been done.I suppose that nothing will now ever be done with the character.Very seldom have I seen both an artist and a character become so populer so quickly.

[TROUBLEZ]

I'm a little surprised too, that The Rocketeer only had one 4 or 5-part back up feature and a 4 issue mini series.

The character design alone, had me believing when I was a kid, that the character was this grand golden age hero, with many, many exploits, who was finally having a movie of him done. Only a few years back did I actually get to read the original stories. Great comic.

RIP Dave Stevens.

[swinebread]

It's really sad. Dave was truly one of the greats!

[denseboy]

His contributions to the world of comics were really impressive and I've been a fan of his work for a while now. I was hoping to meet him some day.*Sigh* :(

[ultramandingo]

Here is a remembrance from his close friend and mentor, Jim Steranko.
_________

My Eulogy:

Dave Stevens died today and the art world lost one of its most passionate practitioners. Our loss, as friends and fans, was infinitely greater. With the exception of Kirby and a few others, one would be hard pressed to name anyone in the field who was more admired and beloved.

Those who knew him will also confirm that, even though he was a superb draftsman and a rendering perfectionist, there wasn't an erg of pretension in him. Who had more right?He was easily one of handsomest, best-dressed, and well-spoken men that could be found behind a drawing board or on a convention floor. Although he may have taken ten minutes to comb his hair and make certain his shirt hung well, there was not a hint of ceremony or conceit in his manner or attitude.

Although he was completely accessible to anyone offering a comment or criticism, Stevens was an extremely private individual. He gave a massive amount of his time, effort, and creativity to those who loved his work. No speed demon, he'd meticulously deliberate over each panel, each figure, each line, until they were as perfect as he could make them. It was an expensive habit, with a killer toll taken from his personal life. He was driven by his professionalism and it showed in the work.

What did not show were the internal processes and sometimes the turmoil in the man behind the work. Stevens was essentially self-educated in artistic techniques and his desire for perfection kept him relentlessly on that track. The result was that no one was better at creating a certain kind of adventure, atmosphere, and anatomy than Stevens. But making it look so easy was only a mask that concealed hard work and serious sacrifice. He kept all that to himself.

And when he was diagnosed with a rare, terminal illness, he kept that to himself, too. His closest friends were aware of the condition, but he had no interest in community-or even private-sympathy, and went to considerable lengths to conceal the problem from his public. Most of his associates were unaware of what he endured physically, mentally, and spiritually because he kept such an inexorable focus on his aesthetic vision. Even the punishment of year-after-year chemo treatments, only deepened his commitment to his art; he began attending sketching sessions (after being a celebrated, successful pro) and eventually enrolled in painting classes, to help his skills transcend the line tradition to the tonal. He was moving from cartoonist to painter, a goal few artists seriously attempt in their 40s, let alone with a terminal sentence hanging over them.

Several years ago, Stevens confessed that his physician had given him about ten to twelve months-to February 2007-to live, based on a calculation of his leukemia's progression. Rather than be ignited by rage, self-pity, or other negative emotional reactions as most of us would do, he opted to go on with his life as though no end was in sight. We frequently talked about business, about our work, about other's work, about film, about music, about food, about the woman we loved, about our artistic discoveries, about new theories, about the forces that shaped our universe and we sparred, scolded, wisecracked, and laughed, just as we had throughout our 35-year+ relationship.

It led to a point that puzzled me deeply. He knew that unless some miracle cure materialized (insiders scoured the net periodically for clues and news of such a cure), the end was in sight. Yet Stevens' behavior was more normal than mine. I didn't understand how he could awaken every morning and face a doomsday countdown, a personal Armageddon, so cavalierly-and questioned him about it. He revealed that he had no intention of allowing a fatal prognosis to corrupt whatever remained of his life, that he was living every day as naturally as possible.

I was stunned, not by his comment, but because he made it happen-on his terms! He was exhibiting the kind of unbridled courage that generally doesn't exist off the comicbook page. The chips were down and the kid showed his moxie! I never admired him more than at that moment and told him that for a pretty boy, he had plenty of nerve! Stevens' philosophy endured until the end. We spoke a few weeks ago. His voice was faint and he was exhausted, but he made our late-night conversation continue for ninety minutes, heavily punctuated with laughs, each of which generated a coughing fit. Nerve!

I knew the end of the story for a long time, but wasn't prepared--and maybe never will be--to accept the terrible finality of his death. It is painful to start every day knowing there will be no new Stevens images to savor. Or all-night conversations fueled by trivia duels, arcane experiences, esoteric insights, and ongoing laughter. I'll add him to my list: no new Wes Montgomery solos, no more Bob Peak posters, no additional Mickey Spillane thrillers. Life goes on, just the way Stevens wanted, except he won't be here to make it more interesting.

I can tell you, however, that he'll live in my heart as long as I can take a breath. See you around, pal!

Jim Steranko
_______

[estee]

A terrible loss to comics. :(