My freshman year at the Philadelphia College of Art in 1979 was a bit of a surprise. It was the first time that I had experienced the artistic predjudice towards comics. The common notion expressed by my teachers was that I would be broken from my barbaric attraction to this bastard of a medium.

It became clear to me that I would have to develop my own curriculum to assist me in my goal of becoming a comics artist. Though my major was Illustration, I filled my electives with courses that would aid me in my quest. Animation, calligraphy, creative writing, graphics and photography rounded out my schedule.

My extracurricular activities proved to be an even greater asset as I explored publishing through the devlopment of a freshman yearbook and a student newspaper, both of which I had orchestrated to help the Arts Council strengthen the sense of community in the school. My commitment to the yearbook only survived one publication but the evolution of the newspaper into DUCKWORK, a publication that was very focused on comics, further whet my appetite for publishing comic books.

This would all transpire after my initial indoctrination to the world of art college a place that, given the quality of my work compared to my peers, I had no place being.

At PCA all freshman had to endure classes that were appropriately described as Foundation. The three classes were Drawing, 2-D Design, and 3-D Design each intended to establish a quality and understanding of fundamental skills necessary for successful mastery of the static arts. Knowing that my skills were inferior at the time became an asset. I was never one to second guess the teacher or to argue a scathing critique. I took it on the chin and learned the hard way.

Drawing was the class that I struggled with the most, especially when it came to figures. Everything I drew looked like bad comic book art. My teacher was a printmaking professor named Jerome Kaplan who did his best to teach me the finer skills of rendering. Maybe it was the extra attention I needed or the effort that he saw me put in to my work but somehow he began to relate to me on a more personal level and he learned about my desire to make comics.

Mr. Kaplan was well aware that an interest in comics was frowned upon in a prestigious school like PCA yet he had great sympathy for my desires because his brother-in-law was none other than Arnold Roth who had been a student at PCA in the late 1940′s then called the Philadelphia Museum School of Industrial Art. Mr. Kaplan would tell me stories of how Arnold had his own issues with the institution over his preoccupation with cartoons and jazz.

Arnold Roth of course is a prolific illustrator cartoonist that has a list of awards a mile long including a National Cartoonist Society run as the Best Illustrator Cartoonist that he won each year from 1978 till he withdrew from competition in 1990 so somebody else could have a chance!

One day Mr. Kaplan came to class with a new Arnold Roth story. At a family gathering he had a discussion with Arnold about an impressionable kid in his class that wanted to draw comics and the esteemed Mr. Roth pulled out a felt tip and sketched a gag on a piece of bond paper for the lucky fool who was, of course, me.

The cartoon of Michelangelo picking his own nose is a priceless piece of spontaneity drawn by a true master of comic art that I will always treasure. It will perpetually be a reminder of the support and encouragement I received from Jerry Kaplan who, unfortunately is no longer with us but understood the magic that could be found in incredible comics.

The next year after I had been given that wonderful drawing, Arnold Roth had a one man show at PCA and for me it was a moral victory to see a cartoonist’s work displayed so reverently at my school. His show validated the aesthetic acceptance of comics that would continue to grow to this day. I am eternally grateful for Arnold Roth’s role in that acceptance and for that felt tip sketch that still hangs by my desk.

I will never forget, however, the twinkle in the eye of my drawing teacher the day he gave me that sketch. He knew that the precious gift he delivered was not made of paper and ink or even the raw talents of Arnold Roth. It was made of 100% inspiration that came entirely from the encouragement that he had personally given to me.

Thank you, Jerome Kaplan, for being the encouraging soul toward young talent that we should all be as artists.

Making Comics Because I Want to.

Gerry Giovinco