Hero and Leander, by Pierre Claude Francois Delorme (1814)

We see here a very different type of picture by Pierre Claude Francois Delorme (1783-1859), Hero and Leander, painted in 1814.

This is a Greek myth telling of the love between Hero, a priestess of Aphrodite that lived in a tower in Sestos beside the Hellespont (Dardanelles, today), and Leander, a young man from Abydos on the opposite side of the strait.  Leader fell in love with Hero and would swim every night across the Hellespont to be with her.  She would light a lamp at the top of her tower to help lead the way for him.

Aphrodite was the Goddess of Love, but Hero was a virgin.  Leander tells Hero that Aphrodite would not value the supplication of a virgin, and convinces her to let him make love to her.  Their love affair lasts through the summer; but on one stormy night, the waves buffet Leander, who becomes lost; the storm also blows out Hero’s guiding light.  Leander drowns, and when Hero sees his dead body, she throws herself over the tower’s edge, uniting them in death.

This tale has been popular with painters, poets, troubadours and writers for thousands of years.  (One wonders if the seed of Romeo and Juliet can be found within it.)  Of the many literary retellings of the story, perhaps the best known was by Christopher Marlowe (1564-1593).  In Marlowe’s version, Leander is spotted during his swim by Neptune, who confuses him with Ganymede and carries him to the bottom of the ocean.  Neptune is clearly besotted by the young man.  Marlowe writes of "[i]magining that Ganymede, displeas'd, [h]ad left the Heavens ... [t]he lusty god embrac'd him, call'd him love ... He watched his arms and, as they opened wide [a]t every stroke, betwixt them would he slide [a]nd steal a kiss, ... And dive into the water, and there pry [u]pon his breast, his thighs, and every limb, ... [a]nd talk of love," while the boy, naive and unaware of Greek love practices, protests, "'You are deceiv'd, I am no woman, I.' Thereat smil'd Neptune.”  When Neptune realizes his mistake, he brings Leander back to the shore, giving him a bracelet that would keep him safe from drowning.

Leander arrives at Hero’s tower.  She answers the door to find the youth nude, and after much love talk, consummate their relationship.  The poem ends with dawn approaching; Marlowe was never able to finish his epic; he would be murdered in a barroom brawl before completion.

Delorme would no doubt have been aware of Marlowe’s text, and it’s possible to see where it informed his painting.  With his delicate curls, beatific smile and shimmering, supple body, Leander is quite beautiful.  Hero anoints his tresses with perfume (or, perhaps, sweet-smelling oils) taken from the open box beside them, a particular irony, seeing that the youth is doomed to drown.  Take a moment to look at how wonderfully Delorme delineates each of Leander’s fingers (on Hero’s shoulder).  These are not the fingers of a Samson, but, rather, a pretty boy.  And though he looks up at Hero with adoration, he is a little … sappy.

The most splendid component of this picture is the glorious Hero.  Once again Delorme harkens back to Raphael for inspiration of the heroine’s face.  But it is in the depiction of her voluptuous (and, frankly, sexual body) that the quality of the picture rests.  It is no mistake that the centerpiece of the entire painting is Hero’s mons veneris; it lies dead-center in the picture, and Delomre’s use of light draws the eye’s attention directly to it.  It is also the center of the figure, and the playful gestures of both her arms and her legs seem to stem from it.  (Even the application of perfume is code for what is going on, as the couple rejoices next to an open box.)

Delorme’s coyness extends to the background, where he has a makeshift curtain block the background window; he places the lyre at the base of Aphrodite’s statue.  In the symbolism of ancient Greece, Orpheus was able to play the lyre in such a way as to knock down stone walls.

This is a witty, beautifully constructed picture.  Not inexplicably moving, like his Cephalus and Aurora, but accomplished nonetheless.

Dave Gilbert and Buckles Interview, Part II

Thanks to the thunderous response to our recent interview with comics legend Lee Falk (1911-1999), we pulled this interview with Buckles cartoonist Dave Gilbert (born 1971) from the archive.  I have also been dog-sitting for the past four months, and my temporary pet, Orpheo, hopes that you enjoy this insight into a dog’s life….

So you started cartooning in school? 

Yes.

Did you have any formal art training?

No, not really.  Just the usual stuff in high school.  I tried taking art classes, but with mixed success.  I took a cartooning class and practically failed it. 

Really!

Yeah.  The teacher told me not to pursue cartooning:  I had no talent and no future. 

What kept you from listening?

I liked cartooning too much. 

So what made you think of Buckles?

He's a dog that I would draw as a warm-up exercise, something I would doodle when I sat down at the drawing table.  Before I draw I always have to doodle first.  Originally, he used to have his ears up.  Then, one day I just put the ears down, instead of upwards, and somehow his personality just kind of came out.  He was this insecure little dog with big eyes, and slightly neurotic.  And he started taking on a life of his own.

And when was this?  While you were still in school, or when you worked as an animator?

It was just after my first year of college, and when I worked in animation.

Was Buckles based on a dog of yours?

Actually, he's based on me, and my whole personality.

So you're Buckles?

Yeah, pretty much.  My friends say that.  They go as far as saying I look like Buckles, but I don't get that.

Do people think you’re funny?

(Thoughtfully)  Gee, I hope so.  At least, I haven’t had any complaints.

Was Buckles your first shot at a strip?

No, I had another strip called Abercrombie, which was about a bird.  There was a dog in it that was just like Buckles, but the bird was the main character  Buckles, who was called Scruffy in this strip, lived with the bird in an old couple’s backyard.  All the characters were there, I just kind of rearranged them for Buckles.  I made the couple younger, and I made the dog the main character because I always thought he was funniest one in it anyhow.  But I was hesitant to do a dog strip because there are so many of them out there already.  Having my own, syndicated strip was something I wanted my whole life.  I just turned 26 this year, and I was syndicated at 24, which made me the youngest syndicated cartoonist at the time.

I think there's something about dogs ... because they are so human, or because they have so many human traits.

I know what you mean, so I've tried to make Buckles different.  He's a dog, but I try to write him as a human.

You do things in your strip to keep him dog-like, rather than making him a human in a collar and leash.

He still has limitations.  He's still a dog.  The fact that he “talks” is that his owners know him so well they know what he means without his saying a word.  But he can't open doors, and he can't read. And there are other limitations that he's aware of, that he can't stand about himself, which is also an insecurity about him. 

What made you consciously set out thinking about his limitations as a dog when most other cartoonists treat their canine characters differently?  Was this your way of distancing Buckles from the rest of the pack?

When I first conceived Buckles, I did some strips and sent them to the syndicates, never thinking that it would go anywhere.  I thought a dog strip would be too limiting.  And I guess that's where the notion of keeping him more like a dog came from, of taking his imitations and turning them into an advantage.  It really works for him not to be able to do certain things, even though it's harder to write.  When he's walking down the street, for example, he can't read a STOP sign.  And since he can't read things, he has to find out information in other ways. 

But it also underscores that he's really a dog. 

Right.  You don't lose sight of the fact that he's an animal.  In most animal strips, they really don't look or behave like animals, just like funny-looking people. 

More Dave Gilbert and Buckles tomorrow!

Dave Gilbert and Buckles Interview, Part I

We here at The Jade Sphinx have been dog-sitting since November for the world’s greatest canine, a Lab-Chow mix named Orpheo.  He is 16 years old, sweet tempered, and the best canine companion a man could have.

This is bound to amuse longtime friends of yours truly, as my hatred of pets of all kind has been the stuff of legend.  For years my immediate response upon touching (let alone petting) an animal was to wash my hands and control my breathing until a sense of cleanliness returned.  So when the notion of Orpheo staying with us for six months first came up, I balked.  But after several months of walking Orpheo, bathing Orpheo, playing with Orpheo and feeding Orpeho … I simply can’t imagine not having him nearby. 

Thinking about Orpheo inspired me to pull another story from the archives – and since we had such a positive reaction last week when we ran our interview with legendary comic strip creator Lee Falk (1911-1999), we decided to resurrect another interview with a celebrated pen-and-ink man.  The following is an interview we conducted in 1996 with cartoonist Dave Gilbert (born 1971), creator of the popular King Features comic strip, Buckles.

Orpheo and I hope you enjoy it.

Dave Gilbert made history when he was only 24 years-old.

It was then, in March, 1996, that King Features Syndicate first distributed his comic-strip Buckles, and Gilbert became the youngest cartoonist ever to write and draw a national strip.

Early success is something Buckles shares with his creator.  The plucky pooch quickly found national distribution in more than 100 newspapers, and went on to win reader polls in Oklahoma City and Salt Lake City (where he garnered a higher percentage of the vote than did Gov. Mike Leavitt in that year’s gubernatorial election).

Blond and blue-eyed, Gilbert looks more like a college kid than a nationally syndicated cartoonist.  Much of the Gilbert’s thoughts on life creep into his strip, and his fresh and sometimes quirky philosophy has been embraced by readers of all ages.  A recurring motif of the strip chronicles Buckles’ “romance” with a fireplug.  Because the fireplug is an inanimate object, Buckles projects all kinds of qualities and charms into it.  “Which I guess,” Gilbert says, “Is just my way of saying relationships are what you make of them.”

We caught up with Dave Gilbert at his home and studio in Syracuse, New York.

    

You were born and raised in Syracuse, New York?

Yep, I’ve been here all my life.  I don’t know if I want to stay.  The best thing about being a cartoonist is that I can work anywhere.  I could just pack up my computer system and go anywhere I wanted to.  But I think I’ll just stay here until I figure it out.

What first got you interested in comics and cartooning?

I guess I was always interested in them.  Disney animation was a big thing for me when I was a little kid.

Are there, or were there, any particular Disney movies that really did it for you?

No, I pretty much like them all.  I wanted to be an animator for the longest time.  In fact, I worked for an animation company here in Syracuse before I was syndicated.

What kind of work were you doing at the animation studio?

I was everything from a cleanup artist to an assistant animator.  I was also an animator, too, but not quite a full-blown one.  Then I discovered syndication, which I like much more.  Doing a syndicated strip, I have no boss...

Were there particular comic strips, or artists, that in some way inspired you?

Oh yeah.  Obviously Bill Watterson’s Calvin and Hobbes, Berkeley Breathed’s Bloom County, and Fox Trot.  They were my three major inspirations.

And what about that work lit your fire?  Was it just the medium, or the art, or what?

I think it was the characterization, and the way these guys wrote and drew.  I don’t think Fox Trot was as well drawn as the others, but the writing on that strip was just incredible.  There was something about all three strips that made them come alive.  Especially the characterizations of Calvin and Opus, they power both of their strips and make them fun.  They have a lot of life to them, and that's what I wanted to recreate in my own work.  I’d love to meet Berkeley Breathed, I hear he’s terrific.

I think Calvin goes back to a long tradition going back to Little Nemo in Slumberland, actually, with the sort of thing that a kids sees but other people don't.

Yeah.  That’s even in Walt Kelly’s Pogo to a degree, and he was another one of my major influences.

More Dave Gilbert and Buckles tomorrow!