Turpentine and Guns: The World of George Pratt
by Antonio Solinas

 

     Hi George. Do you want to introduce yourself to your Italian readers? When did you first get involved with comics?

     I have always been interested in comics since I was 5 years old. I was introduced to comic books when I was in the hospital undergoing one of two open heart surgeries. This was 1965 or so and the Batman television show was on and I was addicted to it. My family saw how much I enjoyed the show and so started bringing me the Batman comic books in the hospital.
     I grew up emulating and copying my artistic heroes from comics - Joe Kubert, Neal Adams, Frazetta, Jeff Jones, Bernie Wrightson, Mike Kaluta, Barry Smith, Alex Raymond, Hal Foster, Russ Heath, etc. This is how I learned how to draw, by copying these guys. My first work in comics was through Heavy Metal Magazine while I was attending Pratt Institute. John Workman was the art director there at that time and he and I got along really well. After looking for something I could do he finally just told me to write something and illustrate it and he’d print it. So I got to do some one-half page strips that I wrote and drew. It was a neat way to get in, just writing little poems and then combining imagery to them.

     What are your influences?

     My influences are pretty diverse, now especially. But I started with comic books and strips, then moved into painters. The list is pretty long, so I’ll try for a condensed version:

Painters
     Rembrandt, Jan Vermeer, Eugéne Delacroix, Théodore Géricault, Diego Velásquez, Giovanni Battista Tiepolo, Honoré Daumier, Francois Millet, John Constable, Camille Corot, Francisco Goya, Thomas Eakins, John Singer Sargent, James McNeil Whistler, Vincent Van Gogh, Camille Pissarro, Claude Monet, Edgar Degas, Camille Pissarro, Toulouse-Lautrec, Winslow Homer, Gustav Klimt, Egon Schiele, Paul Gauguin, John Twachtman, J. Alden Weir, Childe Hassam, Mary Cassatt, Edouard Vuillard, Pierre Bonnard, Edvard Munch, Thomas Wilmer Dewing, Edwin Austin Abbey, Howard Pyle, NC Wyeth, Harvey Dunn, Norman Rockwell, Frank Frazetta, Jeff Jones, Lucien Freud, Odd Nerdrum, Jules Pascin, Nathan Olivera, Fritz Scholder, Richard Diebenkorn, Arthur Rackham, Edmund Dulac, Maxfield Parrish, Dean Cornwell, Mead Schaefer, Odd Nerdrum, Brad Holland, Gary Kelley, Mark English, Edward Hopper, Edwin Dickinson, Fritz Scholder, Marshall Arisman, Frank Brangwyn, Russell Chatham, Frank Duveneck, Diebenkorn, Mark Rothko, Francis Bacon, Lucien Freud, Robert Rauschenberg, Matisse, René Magritte, Burt Silverman, David Levine, Skip Liepke, Milt Kobayashi, Robert Weaver, Emil Carlson, James Ensor, Franz Klein, Emil Nolde, George Bellows, Max Beckmann, George Grosz, José Clemente Orozco, Jasper Johns, Anselm Kiefer, Anders Zorn, Alberto Giacometti, Ernst Barlach, Lovis Corinth, Odilon Redon, John Berkey, J.C. Leyendecker, James Bama, Robert McGinnis, Alphonse Mucha, John Allen St. John.

Draughtsmen
     Rembrandt, Francisco Goya, Toulouse-Lautrec, Winslow Homer, James Abbott McNeil Whistler, Gustav Klimt, Egon Schiele, Kathe Kollwitz, Leonard Baskin, Jeff Jones, Pierre Bonnard, Edwin Austin Abbey, Jules Pascin, Edgar Degas, Frazetta, Harvey Dunn, NC Wyeth, Howard Pyle, AB Frost, Daniel Vierge, Edvard Munch, John Singer Sargent, Heinrich Kley, Lyle Justis, Bernie Krigstein, Alex Toth, Jack Davis, Joseph Clement Coll, Franklin Booth, Angelo Torres, Hokusai, Yoshitoshi, Hiroshige, Charles Dana Gibson, James Montgomery Flagg, John R. Neill, Edward Kemble, Alphonse Mucha, A.B. Frost, Eduard Thöny, Bruno Paul, Olaf Gulbransson, Otto Blix, Franz Masareel, Billy DeBeck, Rico Lebrun, Leonard Baskin, Hugo Pratt, Alberto Breccia, Dino Battaglia, Jacques Tardi, José Muñoz, Nicolas DeCrecy, Bob Peak, Mark English, Bernie Wrightson, Jeff Jones, Michael Kaluta, Barry Windsor-Smith, Milton Caniff, Noel Sickles, George Herriman, Winsor McKay, Joe Kubert, Bill Mauldin, Frank Miller, Will Eisner, Frank Robbins, Lisbeth Zwerger, Harvey Kurtzman, Bruce Bairnsfather, Wallace Morgan, Kerr Eby, Moebius, C.F. Payne, Attilio Micheluzzi, Russ Heath, Jack Kirby, Hermann, Josè Ortiz, Robert Crumb, David Sheridan, Gilbert Shelton, Hal Foster, Alex Raymond, Barron Storey, Robert Fawcett, Austin Briggs, John Thomason, Roy Krenkel, Ralph Steadman, Burt Silverman, David Levine.
     These are both incomplete lists, but do give some indication of some of the great artists I followed, and continue to follow.

     You are considered one of the best illustrators in the world. How did you develop your fantastic style?

     Wow, I didn’t know I was considered anything like that at all. It’s so strange that the work carries so far, across so many borders and touches so many people. It’s wonderful that it does get out that much, and that really illustrates the power of words and pictures to communicate globally.
     It’s funny that you believe I have a style. I don’t really see it myself, though enough people tell me that I have one so I guess it’s true. I don’t consciously think of style while I’m working, or ever for that matter. I think I pretty much wear my influences on my sleeve. I was a massive fan of Jeff Jones, especially, and worked very hard to emulate his drawings and paintings during my art school days. I was always thrilled that anyone “got” that I was doing Jones. But after being told how closely it resembled Jeff’s work from so many people, I began to feel hurt that no one was recognizing what I was putting into the work that I felt was my own “thing”. So I began to try to find out what I was truly about, how I saw the world in my own way.
     I still feel that it’s obvious who my heroes were/are, but at least I’m not consciously thinking of other artists’ work when I draw and paint anymore.

     Your education is academic, but you work (among other things) in a medium (comics) that is often considered far from literate. What are your thoughts on the subject and what do you like about comics?

    I love comics for a lot of different reasons. I don’t think they’re not literary, or not art, but I can see why many people have that impression. I think most people are still working under the memories they had of comics they read as kids. I don’t believe they have ever gone back to comics and looked at what is out there now, how diverse the field is and how rich. And it really does have an incredibly rich history that is global also.
     I was doing quite a bit of gallery work in the late eighties and early nineties and was happy to be making a living off of my paintings. But I also began to feel that I was sort of spinning my wheels, only nurturing one aspect of my creativity. I missed telling stories. I come from a family of natural storytellers and it’s in my blood. It’s what I grew up with, and what I filled my childhood with through comics as well. So telling stories is essential to my love of comics, obviously. I also love that I have an audience that follows the material. I can see the effect the work has on others. It’s a lot of work, comics, but in the end, holding that book and seeing the effect on readers makes it all worthwhile.
     I enjoy writing immensely, and I enjoy making pictures, but putting the two together creates something greater than the two. It’s a difficult medium to explore fully, to visually tell a story. I think it’s one of the most difficult art forms there is.
     What is always gratifying is visiting other countries and speaking with those people about comics. That’s when I know it’s something more than children’s literature. Comics in other countries are seen, it seems, as fine art. It’s very refreshing. I do see comics as a vehicle for self expression, obviously, but still, it’s hard to convince someone who is not willing to delve beyond their prejudiced view of comics.

     You have explored many aspects of comics: teacher, writer, artist, cover illustrator. Is there any of these aspects you prefer over the others?

     The writing is the most difficult aspect of comics for me. Telling the story and trying to make it as seamless as possible. I’m certainly not great at it, I struggle with it constantly. But I think the work comes through as honest and that’s great. The layout stage is also a tough time for me. Trying to figure out how best to visually break the story down, what angles to use, the lighting, etc. That’s where the work is for me. The actual finished art for the books is almost a sort of a slog. The amount of work it takes to do a comic can be overwhelming at times. I try not to look at the larger picture in terms of how much work there is. I try to focus on the page at hand and just keep on moving through the panels and pages. Then when the light at the end of the tunnel evidences itself it’s a pleasant surprise.
     I love teaching as it’s very gratifying to help others learn. I was lucky when I was a student in that I had some of the finest teachers one could ask for. So many people took great pains to help me learn my craft and all they ever asked for is that I do it for someone else later on. Pass on the knowledge.
     I can’t say I prefer one aspect over another. I think each of them have elements that come to the fore at different times. I’m pretty flighty sometimes. If I’m doing a lot of writing, I will invariably find myself wishing I were drawing. If I’m drawing I wish I was doing watercolor, or oil, or pen and ink, etc. I don’t ever seem to be happy doing any one thing. It’s actually a blessing, because I certainly don’t run the risk of becoming contented, but it has its drawbacks as well. There never seems to be any happy middle ground, no rest spots. That can be tiring.

     Your Enemy: Ace War Idyll was very appreciated, won several prizes and was on the required reading list at the West Point Military Academy, reaching fans outside of the normal comics market. Were you surprised by such an overwhelming success, considering that the art is not very accessible for the average comics fan?

     I didn’t know what to expect with Enemy Ace: War Idyll. I was totally surprised that the book did as well as it did. The fact that it attracted so many people outside of comics was wonderful, I couldn’t have asked for more. That alone made all the work worthwhile. It never occurred to me that the work would not be accessible to the average comics fan. That’s how little I was thinking outside of the confines of the story. I don’t think I’ve ever had any one reader or viewer in mind when I’ve done my comics, or my paintings. I do what I would enjoy, what I want to do at that time and that’s enough. I certainly don’t want to cater to anyone. I figure if I’m true to my own goals, my own interests, then the work will be honest and have a solid sense of verisimilitude. The worst that could happen would be that the work doesn’t move someone. Love it, hate it, fine. I hope it just doesn’t register with someone. That’s disaster.

     You seem very interested in researching and portraying the horrors of war. Where does this interest stem from?

     I grew up with war comics. I grew up during the Vietnam war which ran through the entirety of my childhood. I was born in 1960 and the war ended in 1975 or so. From the time I was conscious to my fifteenth birthday this war was always on the periphery. I was scared to death of having to go and fight over there, though with my two heart surgeries I would not have had to go (no one told me that at the time!). I was enamored with the DC war books, Sgt. Rock, Haunted Tank, and like most of my friends completely taken with World War Two. We played guns all the time and most of our fathers fought during that war. My father was a sailor, though he didn’t see any combat. My buddies father’s were either infantry, sailors, or fighter/bomber pilots. We had lots of the gear and just wallowed in that stuff. My home was littered with books on World War Two as my father read through history and accounts trying to understand more about the war he participated in. So I was surrounded by this stuff.
     I can remember when war became more than just this strange fascination, like watching a car wreck. I can remember when it hit me that people really died and that there wasn’t a lot of glory involved in it. That death was a true end point, a total stop of everything. It scared the shit out of me, recognizing my own mortality. And at a pretty young age, too. It didn’t stop me from playing guns, but it lent it a greater gravity for sure.
     After I came out of art school I began to read a lot of the books that were coming out about the Vietnam War to learn more about this terrible conflict that scared me as a kid. I became enthralled again by war, by its destructive nature, how it shatters everything we know about society and how we’re supposed to act. And I lucked into working for some Vietnam veterans magazines illustrating the soldiers’ tales of that war, and other conflicts. That’s how I started to work on my idea for Enemy Ace, as a vehicle for understanding it all for myself.
     I’ve continued to have a fascination with the subject, mostly because it seems to be a powerful way to deal with the human condition. When people are put into situations where life seems to mean so little, yet ironically means so much more because of it. They have to come face to face with the true demons that live in most of us. It forces them to confront their worst fears and pains and loves. And out of so much death and destruction, hatred and pain the human spirit does rise above, like grass growing through concrete.

     At this stage of your career, you have been included in Reed’s book The Illustrators in America 1860-2000, won many awards and done many exhibitions all over the world. Is there any goal you still haven’t achieved?

     My goals aren’t that specific, I guess. They’re more ephemeral. I don’t know just what I’m looking for in my paintings, in my dialogue with paint, but it’s enough to be painting. I find things as I explore, the medium talks back and tells me where to go next. It’s very seat of the pants flying, but I like not knowing what’s going to happen. I like the serendipitous nature of art, the discovery. It keeps me on my toes, keeps me guessing. That’s the joy of it.

     I am particularly intrigued about your interest for the blues. How did that originate? Do you want to tell us a bit about that?

     My interest in the blues came about through a trip to Tower Records while I was working on Enemy Ace. While working on that book I practically lived in the studio and besides surrounding myself with my research on the First World War and Vietnam, I also surrounded myself with music. I love music. Can’t get enough of music of all kinds, from all countries. I went to Tower in search of something new to wallow in and while visiting the Folk section heard something that just bowled me over, spoke straight to my heart. It was the music of Mississippi John Hurt. I was mesmerized, sad and elated all at once. I bought everything I could get my hands on. I had just bought a CD player so there wasn’t much out at that time, the stores were still mostly vinyl. But I took that Mississippi John Hurt disc home and wore it out. Then came Skip James and others. I was hooked. I HAD to do something with this wonderful music!
     I started then to formulate some way to play with the subject of the blues and the spirit of that music. I was lucky in that I grew up in the South and luckier still that my mother was from Mississippi which we visited a good many times throughout my life. I began to write on a story about me looking for some bluesman whose records I had found in the crawlspace of my grandmother’s home in Mississippi. So I had the framework, but wasn’t sure how to proceed. I decided to take a trip through the Mississippi Delta and just knock on doors and see what I would find. What I found was a great adventure for myself while visiting some of the places in the songs of Mississippi John Hurt and others. I met so many fantastic people and heard so much inspiring music and tales, and drank more gin and whiskey than I thought possible. The stories wove a wonderful tapestry throughout the book that filled it with the honesty that I think is so important.

     Now it seems easier for illustrators to find their own place in US comics, and many talented guys often work for the American comics market, like John J Muth, Kent Williams, Van Fleet, Sienkiewicz, McKean. Do you like any of them?

     I’ve been very fortunate in that every one of these guys are buddies. Kent Williams and John Van Fleet and I went to school together. John Van Fleet was my roommate at Pratt (and is still my neighbor), as was Dan Clowes. Kent and I basically taught each other how to draw and paint, taking numerous trips to the country to landscape paint. I met J Muth through Jeff Jones and we all would go landscape painting in the New York Catskill mountains. Great times. Bill Sienkiewicz and Dave McKean I met at different times and became great friends with through the years. That’s the truly great thing about art, there’s no boundaries and yet it’s an incredibly small world. Everyone is happy to be doing what they’re doing and they love to share it with others. And yes, I love the work of all these guys. No question.

     On a related subject, many illustrators seem to have been infected by “the Photoshop virus”. What about you? Have you ever tried computer-related painting techniques? What are you thoughts on the subject?

     I have played with Photoshop and have done some finished jobs with the program. But I still like to smell turpentine and get my hands dirty. I’m a computer maniac, I love my Macs and am constantly in awe of the power that they have given to me. I now have total control over the ultimate quality of my books. That’s beautiful. I would have killed for this stuff as a kid. I was doing paste up and having to edit film by splicing it with tapes and cutters. This stuff is pure magic. I get lost in it, the ultimate playground! But it’s just another tool, like a brush, a pen, a sheet of paper. I’m not into the over-processed imagery that many do with the computer. They seem to let the software control them, bound by the limitations of the program, rather than coming at the computer as a way to execute something they already have in their heads. Everyone can hit the twirl filter, but someone like Dave McKean does so much more than that. He bends the computer and forces it to do what he wants it to do.

     I know you like to sketch a lot and you have your own sketchbook. How did this habit come about?

     Sketchbooks are where the real work gets done. The sketchbook was/is where some of my greatest learning takes place. I love to sketch, I wish I could just get paid to sketch. Traveling on the New York subways was a place for either reading or drawing and I did plenty of both during my eighteen years there. But the drawing is incredibly rewarding. Trying to capture the people I saw on the trains was my best teacher. I had to learn to draw rapidly and try to get to the heart of what I was seeing. It forced me to focus on what was important.

     You normally worked on your own projects, doing everything by yourself. Would you be interested in collaborating with other writers or artists? Do any particular names come to mind (apart from Azzarello)?

     Not really. I have been approached by and have myself approached several writers and it would be fun to do something with them, Mark Askwith and Frank Miller come to mind. And while I like the idea of not having to work out all the story stuff, I’m also leery of having to second guess someone else as well. I would like to work with Frank Miller for sure. He and I have spoken over the years about collaborating on something together but never seem to find the time to do it. He has suggested it be something historical since we’re both interested in historical subject matter generally. So that seems the best way to go. Now it’s just finding the time, the inclination and the subject matter.

     Let’s talk a bit about the technical aspects. Which techniques do you normally use in comics? Do they change when you are working on a cover illustration?

     Of course the most important consideration is Story, and everything must be in service and support of that. All too often technique seems to be used as an end in itself rather than as a means to some other end, namely story.  If the technique is too noticeable then the artist has failed, he/she has thrown you out of the story, destroyed the waking dream.
     I try to choose the best visual approach for any particular story. My color work for sequential continuity has generally been watercolor with additions of other media thrown in to spice it up a bit, and to keep my own interest. One of the most difficult things, for me at least, is being hemmed in by the choices I make. I feel that I should stick with the technique that I started a given story with in order to keep the tale consistent. For Enemy Ace I chose to use watercolor rather than execute the finishes like the original Joe Kubert stories. I felt that I wanted to take the visuals to a more realistic place, more subtle and textural, to make it more believable. That was the best place, I felt, to go with that particular story. I’ve just been working on my issue of SOLO and for the first story, a Civil War tale, I’ve chosen to execute everything in pen, brush and ink, and do basically hand separations for the colors. I think it’s worked out well. But that wouldn’t be suited for every story. Each story demands a different approach.

     Although your production has mainly strayed from superheroes, you won an Eisner for Wolverine: Netsuke. How did the project come to life and how did you tackle a mainstream icon like Wolverine?

     I was still living in New York and was just begining work on my Batman graphic novel. The Batman book should have been a dream come true, a real pleasure to work on, like Enemy Ace. The whole reason I became an artist is because of Batman. I watched the television show and got hooked, and that was my entree to comics and art. But the original editor I was working with made that book a living nightmare for me. I was struggling with the work because he basically wanted me to repeat the technique and style I used for Enemy Ace. I felt that was totally wrong for Batman because Batman’s larger than life. He’s not real, he’s more than real. I wanted to take the work on that book to a place that was much more graphic and to the point. That didn’t happen because the editor absolutely wouldn’t let it go there. He eventually left but I was then stuck with the techniques I’d already started with based on his misdirection.
     I was walking in my neighborhood in Brooklyn and bumped into Chris Claremont, who lived a couple of blocks away from me. He asked what I was up to and I sort of vomited out my feelings about the Batman book and how upset I was with the work and the direction, etc. He was surprised to hear that and said it didn’t make any sense, if he hired me to do a book he’d trust that I would deliver a good product. He then told me that he’d just been hired to be the editor of the editors up at Marvel and if I had a project I should bring it in. I asked him if it would be alright to do a Wolverine book and he told me to do it up. That was on a Friday and we made an appointment for me to come in on a Monday. I took the weekend and basically came up with the Netsuke ideas.
     I have always been enamored of Japanese culture and art, reading piles of Japanese literature and tales. So this seemed a great way to bring all that interest to bear. All my projects are about things I have an interest in and enjoy sharing with others. So I sort of wrapped up all my interests in Japanese prints and literature into a tale that took advantage of the Wolverine/Logan and Mariko affair, basically a ghost story. I got to play with Wolverine and have fun drawing all this great Japanese material. Chris liked the idea and really championed it at Marvel. Without Chris that book would not have seen reality.
     Marvel was amenable to my finishing Batman first and then starting the Wolverine series. In the meantime I moved out of the city entirely, ending an eighteen year stint, and relocated further South, living in the woods, finishing up Batman. Just as I was about to start the Wolverine project Chris lost his job at Marvel and I thought that would be the end of the project. But he passed it on to Joe Quesada and made sure it was in good hands. He really did me a fantastic turn there. Joe was also behind the book and that was great because I didn’t have anything else lined up.
     After working on the Batman book and dealing with such bad vibes (though I have to say that after the editor in question left the book things got immeasurably better and the editor I ended up with was heads and tails over the original) working for Marvel was really, really nice. They left me totally alone. Seriously. It was wonderful. They trusted me to do what I do best. I had so much fun working on those books, and I think it shows in the work. My editor on Wolverine, Matt, was fantastic. He really worked with me and made sure that any needs I had were met, and sang out when he felt something was off on the book or with what I was doing. A real professional. A breath of fresh air.

     You are hard at work on two new books for DC Comics, Solo and The Haunted Tank. Do you want to tell us a bit about them?

     Well, the Haunted Tank is a dead issue, I think. I’ve not heard anything about that book for over two years now, so I think it’s dead. Maybe Brian has someone else slated to do the art. I don’t know. His idea is a pretty fun one and would make a good story. We’ll see if anything comes of it.
     The SOLO book I’m enjoying, but finding it hard to just crank it out. I don’t crank anything out, but I find that since they want these stories to be stuff from whole cloth, it’s even more difficult. It’s tough because DC wants to own everything, even if it’s not their characters. It’s difficult to let go of stuff that you know is good solid storytelling. So you struggle with what exactly to let go of. If DC could let go of this need to own everything they’d get better work out of people, I’m sure. I can understand needing to own the Batman material. Makes perfect sense. But to own the other work that we have to come up with from scratch is hard to swallow. So I’ve shelved some of what I would have done for the book and am planning on using their characters so I won’t feel as bad about giving up the rights. But I’ve done what I think is some of my best work for this book. I’ve taken DC at their word when they say they want us to play with techniques and viewpoints, genres and really pull out the stops. I believe I’ve done that. But it doesn’t come easy or quick. I’m only about halfway through that book but feel great about the stories.
     As I mentioned before my first story is a Civil War tale that I separated entirely by hand. It was a real labor and I don’t think I’ll do it again except for covers, but it was worth it for the story. Each panel was drawn as a pen and ink, then for each color I did separate pen and ink drawings, so each panel would have something like 6 drawings. It was killing me. I’d then scan those into my Mac and put it all together within Photoshop, turning each of those drawings into color layers. When it all came together it was worth it. I think it’s pretty fun stuff.
     The second story is a Sgt. Rock tale, a WWII thing that I’ve left as black and white with grey tones. I’m very happy with that story too. I have a Batman tale that will be fun which is sort of autobiographical and has my son in it. That’s going to be a lot of fun. So we’ll see how it all pans out.

     Do you read many comics? Which creators or characters do you follow regularly?

     Actually I follow very few comics anymore. I do follow whatever Frank Miller does, Mike Mignola or Dave McKean. I’m generally bummed out when I go to the comic shop. There’s so much superhero stuff and that leaves me cold these days. I look at a lot of independent work but so much of that runs together. I’m tired of people bitching about their lives. It’s old already. I like a lot of the foreign work but mostly the older material, Hugo Pratt, Dino Battaglia, Jacques Tardi, Sergio Toppi, Hergé. Just beautiful work. I love José Munoz’s work. Brilliant. Always powerful.

     What are your current projects, even outside comics?

     Current projects: I’ve been writing on a WWI saga for awhile now. I hope to start working on the continuity some time soon. I’ve been working also on another documentary film, this one on Harvey Dunn and the other seven artists who were sent to the front during WWI to illustrate the war for America. I may yet see my blues book, See You In Hell, Blind Boy published. It’s been a long road for that book and I really do hope it finds a home.
     I’ve been teaching during the summers with the Illustration Academy and that’s been an incredible experience. Just to be able to hang out with John English, Mark English, Gary Kelley, C. F. Payne, Anita Kuntz, Greg Spalenka, Brent Watkinson, Sterling Hundley has been a real boost to the artistic batteries. Everyone gets together and it’s like old home week as we teach a select number of students drawing and painting. John English and I are working on a two-man landscape show of our paintings for a gallery in Kansas City. I’ve been loving painting for myself again. It’s invigorating and daunting all at the same time.

     Do you know anything about the European comics scene? What about Italy?

     I was lucky enough to attend Lucca once in the early 1990’s and had a wonderful time in Italy. It rained most of the time we were there but we still had the best time. I was there with Kent Williams, Dave McKean, Dave Mazzuchelli, Bryan Talbot, José Munoz and others. What a time! Just to meet Munoz and Toppi! Wow! I also got to meet Milazzo whose work I like as well.

     The last question is the one million dollar question we always ask. What are for you the three comics that should be on the shelf of a true comic fan?

     Wow. I don’t know if I can boil that down to only three, so I think I’ll pass on this. If I could have one collection of work with me if I was on a desert island, one of my choices would be a complete collection of the Warren magazines: Creepy and Eerie. Or a complete run of EC books. That would be nice.

George Pratt Gallery