Catch-up with Keith

It's been a while. How's yourself?

I spent a good stretch of time in the gravitational field of Baltimore Comic-Con, which I detailed more or less in my column in 72 Hours, the arts and culture magazine of the Frederick News-Post. That covers the nuts and bolts of the weekend, the people I saw, the atmosphere and how it all hit me, with a long monologue on how Paul Pope’s appearance flipped me from hater to fan.

What I couldn’t fit there is a long conversation I had on the con floor with José Villarrubia.

Now, you might only know his name if you’re steeped way too deeply in comics culture (or read my slightly embarrassing confession of fanboying when I met him completely by accident at the Small Press Expo).

It was one of those interviews that lingers afterward, not because of fireworks or pronouncements, but because of his quiet, thoughtful way of talking about the craft, his self-effacement and his generosity.

Villarrubia carries himself with the calm certainty of someone who doesn’t need a spotlight to feel the value of his work. He’s humble, focused and uninterested in theatrics, yet his influence radiates through the medium. He speaks gently and still carries his native accent. He often credits luck where most people would claim vision. He calls his career a string of accidents. And he insists, with absolute sincerity, that he does not think about legacy.

This tension — between Villarrubia’s self-effacement and his towering, understated influence — is what makes him so compelling. He is the rare artist whose presence is most deeply felt in the work of others.

He helped bring painted approaches into the mainstream at a pivotal moment. He shaped the look of American comics during the transition from traditional color to digital tools. He became a trusted collaborator to some of the most distinctive creators in the field. He has been, and is, a champion of legendary artist Richard Corben when Corben risked slipping into obscurity. And he has taught generations of young artists.

The irony is that Villarrubia has found relief in stepping out of the spotlight. He no longer wants to explain his identity through fine art or justify his ideas through critical theory. Coloring offered a different path, one where he could disappear into the work and elevate others.

But his influence remains. It accumulates in the artists he’s guided, in the pages he’s colored, in the careers he’s supported, and in the revival of work he considered too important to lose.

Moreover, the philosophy Villarrubia outlines in this interview is a refreshing contrast to everything today’s vox comics populi seem to believe is important: celebrity, self-branding, and brash personal artistic dominance. For Villarrubia, who found satisfaction in his secondary role, the greatest skill is the genius of integration, or being of service to the complete product.

In a world where creators often use social media to highlight their individual brilliance, his highest artistic ambition is to be the person behind the person who ensures the work, not the artist, is the star.

» The interview (edited for readability and clarity).

For some other views of the Baltimore con, here’s my good friend Tony Ez’s columns:

» Part 1 and part 2.

WHAT’S ON THE DRAWING BOARD?

It’s nearly Christmas, so I opened my commission list briefly. I pretty much only have two tiers, because I don’t often look for clients. One is the high-quality pieces into which I pour heart and soul. The other is the quicker, smaller pieces into which I pour my heart and soul.

One is fun, the other a huge, anxiety-and-impostor-syndrome-provoking monster. I’m not quite sure why I feel so much more stress on the more expensive pieces. I do want to give the client as much for their money as is possible for me to deliver, to give them something truly special — as special as my meager skills allow. That’s important to me. But I seem to do the same amount of work for the smaller pieces, sometimes.

I am presently sweating this sweat over an Etrigan the Demon piece for a really delightful member of the 11 O’Clock Comics podcast community.

Sneaky peek.

Tier Two is an equation less of existential stress than volume of output. For a laugh, I posted an ad to Instagram stories that I would draw anything, pretty much, as long as it was on a 6-by-9-inch piece of paper, for only $15 (plus postage).

I’m also sort of joking with a TikTok ad I created to try and shift some pretty niche original art. Because I have no shame. Because, despite what you just read above about Villarrubia’s self-effacing humbleness, I am a man who desperately needs your approval for my art. I have learned nothing and will not change.

Aren’t we all in the arms of an angel?

Seriously, though, I am doing postcards of my favorite Marvel UK characters (I am that fan I’m talking about in the video).

Progress so far.

If you’d like to buy one, let me know in the comments, which are, I suppose, the best way to contact me. I don’t know how much I’m selling these for, so make an offer.

I’m doing a couple a day. Hell, given I’m an inveterate tinkerer, I may even add some color (or “colour,” seeing as it’s Marvel UK). Here’s the full list.

TMNT VS. THE PREDATOR

What a remarkably enjoyable project to accident into. Zach Cahill, an amazing artist and writer, is putting some fun back into comics collaboration by crowdsourcing contributions for a bit of bootlegged brilliance he’s been publishing on his Patreon: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles vs. Predator.

Nice bit of timing there with Predator: Badlands coming out. (Four out of five stars. I enjoyed it, but found the odd-couple humor a little out of place for the series. Very watchable, though. It would have made a good comic.)

Not to brag, but I got one of the most iconic pages of Cahill art to ink over, and I’m really pleased with how it came out. We’re talking about publishing this odd little bootleg, so stay tuned. Otherwise, sign up for Zach’s Patreon. He’s churning out stuff you’re going to want to read.

I should note here that I, too, have a Predator concept dancing around in the back of my mind, if only I can churn through all these other projects to get to it: Predator vs. Conan. That’s right. You heard me.

Hm, maybe I need to reach out to Zach and his buddies …

CUE THE TRUMPET AND BUZZ ME LIKE A BEE

Oh, Step Kato, help! I am stuck in the Hornetmobile.

Fun one for the Green Archer lads, who’ll be releasing this pin-up as part of their upcoming Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar in The Gr33n H0rn3tz Matter. I’ve never drawn any of these characters before, but now kinda wanna do a Kato short story? (Not the step-Kato one.)

MORE FLAG-DRAPED BOOTLEGS (WITH ACTUAL BOOTS)

I’ve been inspired to do a bit of a Union Jack bootleg. I feel deja vu writing that. Have I mentioned it before? Anyhow, I’m only two pages or so in but am making plans.

The amazing Ian Ashcroft, my long-time art nemesis, the Mozart to my Salieri, the Seinfeld to my Newman, Wolverine to my Sabretooth, etc., etc., reached out on my $15 fire sale for an illustration of Hellbreaker. (Seriously, it’s a Pat Mills project you Need to Back on Kickstarter.) Unconvinced he was paying enough, Ian offered to draw me something in return.

This is something like Jack Kirby offering an art exchange with Rob Liefeld. Anyhow, here’s Ian’s beautiful sketch of a period Union Jack who may or may not be in a short little zine sometime in 2026.

Or maybe I’ll just pay Ian to draw it. FFS. How good is this?

Here’s the reference I gave him.

Go to hell, Ashcroft!

For Millsverse fans, the Awesome Comics Podcast has a great interview about the project with Pat and Ian. Ian’s one of the nicest guys you could meet, on top of his legendary skills, and I really hope this is a breakthrough project for this young man, because I’ll be there, in line where he’s a guest, waiting, waiting, waiting to hear him, and then he sees me, his recollection almost kicking in and he says, “You’re sweating all over my table; could you give me a little space?”

Until next time, Few Achievers!

Cliff “Keith” Cumber