Today in pulp, one of the most influential and outrageous illustrators of the Italian Italian fumetti scene: Emanuele Taglietti!
This will be interesting...
Emanuele Taglietti was born in Ferrara in 1943. His father worked as a set designer for director Michaelangelo Antonioni, often taking Emanuele with him on set.
In the 1960s Taglietti moved to Rome, where he studied stage design. He began a successful career as an assistant art director, working for Federico Fellini and Marco Ferreri.
Tiring of set design Taglietti became interested in the booming comics industry in Italy. His friend Dino Leonetti introduced him to the work of artists such as Averardo Ciriello and Frank Frazetta, and encouraged him to move into comic illustration.
In the mid-1970s Italian news-stands were full of Fumetti Sexy, a home-grown type of erotic comic. At their peak publishers were releasing a new 100-page comic every three days, and artists who could work quickly were in high demand.
Edifumetto was the largest publisher of Fumetti Sexy. Founded by Renzo Barbieri in the early 1970s their offices were in Milan, but they were happy for Taglietti to work from home in Ferrara.
Taglietti would start a cover painting by using photographic references before painting in acrylic. Finishing touches were added with tempera. The finished canvas was normally 25 cm x 36 cm, with Taglietti often painting ten a month.
Taglietti did most of the covers for Sukia, the popular vampire-themed fumetti that began in 1978. Sukia's look was based on the actress Ornella Muti.
Zora La Vampira was another vampire-based fumetti that Taglietti worked on for Edifumetto. Zora is a 19th century aristocrat possessed by the spirit of Dracula.
Ulula the Werewolf was launched in 1981 by Edifumetto and riffs on the early legends which describe werewolves as beautiful women temptresses.
Playcolt was a more straightforward crime series from Edifumetto, featuring a rich American playboy who fights the Mafia.
In a similar vein .44 Magnum was a fumetto about a glamorous (and slightly familiar!) private eye.
In contrast La Poliziotta was a far from straightforward comic, featuring the very erotic adventures of the NYPD.
Alas by the end of the 1980s the popularity of Fumetti Sexy died away. Taglietti left Edifumetto to work as an oil painter, as well as an evening-class teacher. He currently works on murals and watercolours.
Fumetti Sexy could never be published today: its content is too outrageous and sometimes too crude to find a mainstream market. However the cover art of Emanuele Taglietti is still highly collectable.
Korero Press published an anthology of Emanuele Taglietti's artwork in 2015, which is well worth a look, and his original work still comes up at auction quite regularly. It's certainly a conversation starter if you hang it in the hall!
And that's it for my look back at the work of Emanuele Taglietti. I hope you enjoyed it!
More pulp artists another time...
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Given the current heatwave, I feel obliged to ask my favourite question: is it time to bring back the leisure suit?
Let's find out...
Now we all know what a man's lounge suit is, but if we're honest it can be a bit... stuffy. Formal. Businesslike. Not what you'd wear 'in da club' as the young folks say.
So for many years tailors have been experimenting with less formal, but still upmarket gents attire. The sort of garb you could wear for both a high level business meeting AND for listening to the Moody Blues in an espresso bar. Something versatile.
Today in pulp I look back at the publishing phenomenon of gamebooks: novels in which YOU are the hero!
A pencil and dice may be required for this thread...
Gamebooks are a simple but addictive concept: you control the narrative. At the end of each section of the story you are offered a choice of outcomes, and based on that you turn to the page indicated to see what happens next.
Gamebook plots are in fact complicated decision tree maps: one or more branches end in success, but many more end in failure! It's down to you to decide which path to tread.
He was the terror of London; a demonic figure with glowing eyes and fiery breath who could leap ten feet high. The penny dreadfuls of the time wrote up his exploits in lurid terms. But who was he really?
Today I look at one of the earliest pulp legends: Spring-Heeled Jack!
London has always attracted ghosts, and in the 19th Century they increasingly left their haunted houses and graveyards and began to wader the capital's streets.
But one apparition caught the Victorian public attention more than most...
In October 1837 a 'leaping character' with a look of the Devil began to prey on Londoners. Often he would leap high into the air and land in front of a carriage, causing it to crash. It would then flee with a high-pitched laugh.