Décès de Gérald Forton qui s’était illustré dans la BD franco-belge et le comics.
Je pense que Jean-Marc pourra nous en parler.
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Bah là, à part « ah merde », je sais pas trop quoi dire.
Jim
C’est un bon résumé.
Tu n’as pas d’anecdotes sympa ?
Plusieurs.
En fait, au départ, on a travaillé par mail. Les épisodes de Galton & Trumbo ont été réalisés à distance. On s’est bien amusé sur plein de trucs. Dans l’un des épisodes, pour une raison qui, à ma connaissance, n’a jamais été expliquée (et qui doit relever tout simplement de l’erreur), Gérald a dessiné les planches selon une proportion différente : elles étaient moins hautes. Pour compenser, on a placé des bandeaux en haut et en bas, qui donne des informations complémentaires, enrichissent le récit. Une bidouille, en réalité. Mais qui donne une particularité au récit.
On a continué à discuter de projets, d’idées. Pendant un temps, on devait travailler sur un album dont l’action se passait dans le milieu du rugby, et qui devait intégrer une collection dédiée au sport chez Emmanuel Proust. Gérald a dessiné deux versions de la séquence de démonstration, de deux ou trois pages. Mais le projet a été annulé (pour une raison qui m’échappe, alors que le calendrier rugbyllistique s’y prêtait…). On a remonté le projet afin de le présenter à d’autres éditeurs, mais aucun n’a été intéressé.
Je n’ai rencontré Gérald que des années plus tard. Je dirais, après la période Semic. Je l’ai vu une fois à Angoulême, alors que j’étais sur le stand d’Eyrolles (j’estime ça à 2009, mais je me trompe peut-être, il faudrait que je regarde si les dédicaces sont datées). Il se trouvait sur un stand pas très loin, et il dédicaçait ses albums de la collection Borsalino. Il me semble que c’est à cette occasion qu’on s’est croisés de visu pour la première fois. Il portait son chapeau de cow-boy, qu’il avait adopté depuis qu’il vivait en Amérique.
On s’est revus quelques mois ou années plus tard. Il faisait un séjour à Paris, et il s’était arrêté à la boutique Dans la gueule du loup, qui vendait de vieilles BD (je crois que la boutique est fermée, désormais). J’étais à Paris au même moment (je situe cela après l’Angoulême que je viens d’évoquer, donc je pense que je logeais chez un pote, mais si ça se trouve, j’inverse les deux dates). On s’est donné rendez-vous à la boutique, et on a commencé à fouiller dans les vieilleries ensemble. Bien entendu, ses vieilleries étaient plus anciennes que les miennes, donc il me montrait plein de choses qui lui évoquaient soit sa jeunesse soit ses débuts de carrière. Puis on est allés prendre un verre dans un bar à côté. Il avait apporté des planches originales, et je lui en ai acheté quelques-unes : du Black Lightning dans, je crois, Detective Comics, du Jonah Hex…
C’était un bonhomme très sympathique. Assez bavard, prompt à évoquer son passé (riche), mais sans jamais balancer de vacheries. Plus enclin à parler de sa vie tranquille, dans son ranch, où il montait encore tous les jours jusqu’à un âge avancé (en tout cas à l’époque où je l’ai croisé quelques fois).
Jim
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Ah merci. Bel hommage.
L’histoire de Black Lightenning était parue dans un Faucon noir. A l’époque, ça m’avait plongé dans un abîme de perplexitude parce que je ne comprenais plus sur quel continent vivait Forton.
Je repense évidemment à son travail sur Télé-Junior, j’étais un grand fan de ce magazine.Gerald Forton y a dessiné pas mal de héros Marvel et des adaptations de séries tv. Sans oublier son travail sur Arak évidemment.
Sur son Facebook, Mark Waid vient d’annoncer le décès d’un de ses compère de longue date un scénariste qui aura officié grandement dans les 90’s. Bryan Augustin vient de décéder.
Ah bah merde.
Ainsi que l’editor qui lui confia la série Flash.
Ah merde !
Jim
Ouais, je viens de voir ça là :
Tori.
Triste nouvelle. Je l’avais découvert aux côtés de son vieux complice au scénario des quelques Flash publiés dans Strange. Je ne les ai pas relues depuis longtemps mais je garde aussi un bon souvenir des séries Crimson et Out there avec Humberto Ramos…
L’hommage de Waid :
Brian Augustyn, 1954-2022
"I met Brian Augustyn in 1987. We’d both been hired at DC Comics as associate editors, one of us one week before the other, but I no longer remember who came first. Doesn’t matter. We shared a love for old comics, the shows of writer David E. Kelley, old television programs, and murder mysteries. We had similar thoughts about what a story was, and we were both heavily invested in bringing new talent and new voices into the company.
We had a fledgling bond just based on the fact that we were among the « new kids, » but the moment that cemented a permanent friendship came a few months on, at a DC staff retreat. Groups of us were dining at separate tables in a nice restaurant, and someone was showing off their ability to make a wine glass sing by dragging their finger around the rim. Like the others at our table, I tried to imitate and failed, giving up after about three seconds. I thought it was cool. A higher-up, at a nearby table and deeply irritated by the sound, did not. Seeing only me touching a glass, he assumed it was me making all that noise and came over to bawl me out in front of everyone, absolutely humiliating me. A few minutes later, Brian, unprompted, took it upon himself to approach the boss of his boss and explain to him, with an edge of annoyance, that I was innocent, which was a ballsy move given that Brian was the new guy and the higher up was not a particularly forgiving person at that time. I didn’t get an apology, but I did make a lifelong pal, a stand-up guy who showed me that he would always have my back. After that, we were inseparable, best friends forever. I became Brian’s little brother. I would prefer the slightly less humbling term “younger brother,” but honestly, I was a cocky little loudmouth who needed to be looked after every now and again, so “little brother” is pretty accurate.
We both had brief writing careers that had temporarily been shelved when we became staffers, but we shared the same storytellling sensibilities, so we decided to pitch the Batman editor on a story that we’d write together. That partnership yielded something much, much better than the sum of its parts and would for years to come."
"He didn’t really need me; Brian was a talented writer on his own. I still remember the morning he pitched me on Gotham by Gaslight, which ended up becoming his best-known work, deservedly so. I’d like to think that it was both of us who teamed up to recruit artist Mike Mignola, but truthfully, Brian did most of the heavy lifting there–we’ll come back to that in a moment–and it turned out to be a defining work for Mike, too. But that story showed people what Brian the solo writer could do, and it still stands as one of the best Batman stories ever told.
Brian was great that way when it came to recruiting and working with others; he saw talented people and knew what they should be doing. A bunch of people owed their success to Brian: Humberto Ramos, Mike Wieringo, Travis Charest, Ethan Van Sciver, Mike Parobeck, and so many others–but certainly no one owed him more than I did. Than I do. At a time when I’d gone freelance and couldn’t get arrested at DC, Brian–and only Brian–was interested in keeping me employed. He went to bat for me when everyone at the company–everyone–was discouraging him, telling him I was just a fanboy who didn’t have anything to bring to the table, and when Brian decided to assign me the Flash, upper management made it abundantly clear they disapproved. He didn’t care. He gave me the gig.
It seems to have worked out."
"Brian was more than my editor back then no matter what we were working on together. From the start, even before he finally left editorial and officially became my co-writer, he was essentially a co-plotter; not a single story came out of anything other than the two of us on the phone, talking out ideas and constantly trying to top one another. We were so simpatico it was scary. I relied on his help to break stories so much that we eventually got to the point where, if I was stuck on a plot point, all I had to do was pick up the phone. Not talk to Brian, just pick up the phone. I didn’t even have to make the call, just start to dial. Instantly, I knew what he’d say, how he’d respond, how he’d suggest I fix things, and that he was right, so I just put the phone back down and carried on typing.
It wasn’t just Flash we talked about. When I was starting out, I really couldn’t do anything without his input making it better, and there’s some of his DNA in all my early work, from Kingdom Come to Captain America to Justice League–ideas and notions and bits, all essential. Years later, as the career that I owed him everything for blossomed, he used to joke that no one could accuse him of riding my coattails because he made the coat, which was 100% accurate. I have never been shy about saying that, without Brian, I’d have spent the last 25 years working at a car wash somewhere, and that’s the God’s honest truth.
Beyond that–beyond all that–Brian was loved and admired by so many, and for good reason. There were certainly people he didn’t care for, but he made no enemies so far as I know–I can’t remember anyone ever saying anything about him that wasn’t complimentary. He was kind, he was thoughtful, he was charming and funny and witty, with a laugh that would fill a room. He was a loyal friend, wise counsel, and he wholeheartedly embodied the character trait that I most admire in people: the inability to simply sit back and watch whenever something unfair was unfolding in front of him. I looked up to him and admired him. In all my life, I have never known anyone better than Brian Augustyn, and I know that I will miss him every day."
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Quel hommage.
Jim
Punaise, c’est pas vieux, 68 ans.
Le scénariste Tom Veitch (frère de Rick Veitch) nous a quittés à l’âge de 80 ans, des suites du COVID-19.
Il avait notamment travaillé pour DC (sur la série Animal Man et des Elseworlds Kamandi et Superman) et pour Dark Horse (sur les débuts de l’univers étendu Star Wars de l’éditeur).
J’allais le preciser avant que tu modifies.
Punaise, saleté de virus.
Je crois en avoir lu du Veitch de Dark Horse, parce que j’ai cru pendant longtemps que c’etait le même qui avait travaillé sur Swamp Thing.