An Interview with Paul Chadwick, the Man Behind the Mountain

In 1986, Paul Chadwick introduced one of the most innovative characters in comics to the world. His creator-owned series, Concrete, has netted Chadwick international acclaim and an array of Eisner and Harvey awards. It tells the story of a soft-spoken, pensive man trapped in a rocky exterior. Chadwick has worked with the legendary Archie Goodwin, navigated his way through Star Wars comics, and wrote stories for The Matrix Online, among countless other projects.

Concrete paved the way for impassioned, reflective comic literature. A quiet, introspective character, he spends more time supporting environmental causes than saving people’s lives. He offers an alternative to the typical super heroes that are continually thrust in our faces. Unlike most comic book characters, Concrete often takes a stand on important issues that affect our world.

Chadwick was kind enough to speak with me about Concrete, his upcoming projects, and childhood dreams that have become reality. He included a few images to further explain some of his answers.

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Guerrilla Geek: Concrete is a character of your own creation. When did you become interested in art and writing? What brought you into the creative world?

Paul Chadwick's Gallery, Age Ten. 'Color-crayon portraits of Marvel superheroes. The smaller images were drawn from, and cut out from, Marvel Comics.'

Paul Chadwick: It was comics. They were a lifeline I grabbed onto at age ten, when my mother remarried unhappily and the household was full of argument and noise that I had to escape from. I couldn’t get enough of them, and with limited funds, I always wanted more comics than I could purchase. So I began drawing the comforting characters. My room had a gallery of life-sized portraits of Marvel superheroes literally drawn in color crayon. Since I dutifully copied them — down to that mannered two-source lighting — it motivated me to really look at things when I drew them. It was pivotal development, in terms of skill acquisition and brain development.

Provided by Paul Chadwick

Later, in my teens, I lost interest in the comics themselves and became quite obsessed with fandom and fanzines. There were moments of mystery and discovery in exploring that subculture, and in making distant friends. It nurtured my writing and drawing better than anything school had to offer.

GG: What attracted you to the comic book medium in general? What are some of your favorite titles?

PC: The art, the art. Steranko and Kirby and Kaluta and Colan. They were gods creating worlds so much better, finer, more adventurous than my life in soggy Washington State. Appreciation of writing came later (and generally writing standards have lifted). I would say Alan Moore is our towering genius, but there’s a lot of good work out today. Brian K. Vaughan is another standout. My quirky pleasures: Basil Wolverton, Jason Thompson , Shane White.

As for favorite titles, my mind rushes back to my childhood, which seems irrelevant. We’re in such a rich period at present, everything we could have dreamed of for our medium during the dark days of the seventies, when it seemed to be a dying ghetto. Right now I’m reading Jamie Rich and Joelle Jones’ graphic novel You Have Killed Me, and enjoying it quite a bit. And speaking of Shane White, everyone should read his autobiographical book, North Country.

GG: In your introduction to Depths, you describe: “In fact, I see Concrete’s existence as one of sustained low-level embarrassment, punctuated by episodes of acute humiliation.” This quote perfectly sums up Concrete’s character for me. We can all understand he feels because Concrete is the embodiment of our embarrassing moments. How did you come up with the concept of Concrete? Did you imagine that you would wind up creating a character that has become so iconic?

PC: That’s a sweet thing to say, even though I’m not so sure how true it is. The answer is that I have imagined, in fevered fantasies, success of George Lucasian splendor, though I never expected it. I know I’m respected in the creative community, and I like that a lot; but I’m disappointed in myself for failing to build on my early success. My middle career has been limping along, although I have hopes of coming back with full vigor starting next year, when some big projects will begin appearing again.

As for the concept of Concrete, two things. First, it came from my pleasure in bundling myself in bed with many heavy covers. I used to imagine myself buried in rubble, which was comfortingly safe. It mutated into being coated with stone, and I wondered what I’d do with my life if that was the case. The answer was Concrete.

The other aspect was a reaction to the accretion of years of world-building in comics. To take just Marvel for example, there’s Atlantis under the ocean, the Savage Land under Antarctica, the Mole Man’s kingdom under everywhere, Asgard connected by that Rainbow Bridge, Krees and Skrulls flitting through space, all this fantastical architecture which, considered together, made my 25-year-old brain want to yell “sto-o-o-p!!” I wanted to see what a character with modest powers would do in the world I lived in. Hence the ordinary milieu, and small-scale stories, and real-world historical and political references of Concrete.

I realize this is at odds with my childhood love of all that colorful craziness. But that’s where I was at the age I concocted Concrete.

GG: What is the theme of Concrete as a whole? Is there a philosophy behind the character?

PC: I hesitate to put it into words because I’m not even sure. It’s about being at the edge of the woods watching the happy people laughing and talking around the campfire; or maybe it’s about muddling through even though you’re damaged; or maybe it’s about how even if you’re safe, yourself, if there are people or things you love you’re not safe at all — because they’re the reason to live, and you can lose them.

GG: How has this philosophy changed as Concrete and the story have evolved?

PC: What changes is what life issues I deal with as I age. The Human Dilemma opened a new chapter, wherein I can wrestle with all my observations and agonies coming from parenthood. My next series, Stars over Sand, will be about how much we can lose and still be human. That, and the special qualities of being in true wilderness.

GG: Think Like a Mountain reveals that it is in fact the public who gave Concrete his name. Since concrete is a man-made invention, and Concrete himself was created by aliens, why did you choose this name?

PC: What an interesting question. I’m not sure I’ve ever considered it. I very nearly named him Stone John, thinking of Olaf Stapleton’s science fiction novel Odd John. But in the end I decided that would beg too many toilet jokes. Mike Catron, a publisher I negotiated with before going with Dark Horse, suggested we use something more impressive, like “Granite” or “Everest.” But Concrete isn’t a tough guy, and shouldn’t have an intimidating, awe-inspiring name. Concrete is neutral. It just describes his looks.

GG: How did you come to choose black and white for the art instead of color?

PC: Sheer economics. The middle miniseries, Fragile Creature, Think Like a Mountain, and Strange Armor were originally published in full color. The budget editions now in print are all black and white. If lightning strikes and the movie finally gets made, I’d like to bring out new color editions. I like color, although some people tell me they prefer my art without it.

GG: Many of your topics focus on those who cannot help themselves. Do you feel that your writing has made a difference for any of these causes?

PC: If some genetic engineer reads The Human Dilemma and is inspired to create a chastity virus, then maybe. Otherwise, no. As Kurt Vonnegut observed, the arts community was 100% opposed to the Vietnam war, and made countless books, movies, and other creations extolling that view. That enormous unified effort, he noted, had as much effect as a banana cream pie dropped from a stepladder. Aside from Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle and the movie The China Syndrome, I can’t think of anything a creative work has changed much in the wider world. But the arts make life more bearable, which is something.

GG: Concrete swims across oceans, climbs Mount Everest, and even joins a radical environmentalist group. Are these experiences that you want to have in your own life? Do you live vicariously through Concrete? He often spends pages discussing an important topic affecting the world. Is this your way of getting your opinions out there?

PC: Of course I live vicariously through Concrete. He’s so much more daring than I am. I am inspired by travel more than anything else. It forces you to observe and makes everything you encounter seem important. But my travels have been a bit more mundane than Concrete’s, except maybe the Nepal trip in 1983. You certainly won’t find me sailing in blue water. Once things go wrong out there, you’re beyond rescue. No thanks!

I do have opinions, and Concrete is my vehicle to express them, but I try to give a fair shake to other points of view. I dance at the edge of wishy-washiness sometimes.

GG: You include glimpses into Concrete’s past throughout the series. It was thrilling to read Concrete’s origin story chronologically in Strange Armor. Being able to fill in the blanks of stories we had read before was a treat. Was it your plan from the beginning to collect the stories in chronological order?

PC: I wish I’d had the foresight of, say, Jeff Smith (Bone) or John Byrne (Next Men), who really knew where they were going and did setups that paid off hundreds of pages, and years, later. But no; I never had a grand plan. Consequently the continuity is a little loose. A lot of the short stories could be plugged in anywhere. That’s why we grouped the 7-volume set thematically, rather than chronologically.

One day we’ll probably do one of those big honkin’ omnibus editions. But not just yet. I have more stories to do.

GG: I’ve noticed that most of the stories start with Concrete sitting in his cinder block chair in his warehouse. What does this signify?

PC: Maybe it’s misguided, but my intent is to give the readers a familiar touchstone to Concrete’s “normal” life before something happens that changes things and creates difficulties. I also think it’s important to remind readers he’s not a multimillionaire with super-scientific equipment. He’s a guy who lives in a shabby warehouse with homemade furniture, spends all his discretionary income on paintings, and reads a lot. Not exactly Bruce Wayne.

GG: I love the inclusion of stories from Ron’s past. One of the stories I found most riveting was in when his friend Scott was lost in a cave and never found again. Was this a purposeful link to Ron’s evolution in the alien cave?

PC: You know what it is? Caves scare the hell out of me. They’re so clearly hostile to life. We visited the so-called Ape Caves in Mount St. Helen’s in southern Washington State, and I could just imagine being trapped down there in complete darkness, silence, maybe with a broken ankle. Brrr. I hate ‘em. And so I do stories about them.

GG: In “I Strive for Realism” (Strange Armor) Concrete meets a man who looks suspiciously like you. He allows Concrete to experience being a human again just for a few hours. Is this something that you see yourself doing for Concrete in the future? Will you ever bring Concrete out of his rock coating?

PC: I have an idea for a final Concrete story in which Ron’s kidnapped friend Michael Maynard shows up, restored to his human form. And he offers Ron a way back. Whether I’ll really do it, I can’t say. Does it make sense to do a “final” story? Or is it better to let a character live on in the readers’ imagination? I suspect the latter.

GG: In every Concrete story, there seems to be a lesson learned. Was there another common thread that you kept in the back of your mind while writing?

PC: I guess I’m in the camp that holds that “a story is something that happens that changes someone.” No change, and it’s just an anecdote. Stories are the best way to learn things, because they attach emotion to the data. “Don’t annoy strange dogs” is not as vivid a lesson as hearing about that kid who teased that German Shepherd with the chain that was longer than he thought. Oh, it was horrible.

GG: Concrete becomes a surrogate mother in Human Dilemma, while Larry deals with a similar issue. How did your experiences as a parent inspire and affect this miniseries?

PC: Parenthood is something men embrace reluctantly. It means more responsibility, less freedom, more fear, less sex, more expense, less sleep. Women have better instincts and the transformational experience of pregnancy. Yet once you hold the little thing, instinct takes over. It becomes so important, and you get the experience of falling in love again. Yes, I had a lot of emotions around it, and was able to put some of it into The Human Dilemma.

GG: There have been multiple screenplays that never came to fruition. How did you envision Concrete coming to the big screen?

PC: Strange Armor is a pretty good guide, as it was written after one of my drafts. A later draft had a climax that partly demolished the fantastical sandstone formations of The Garden of the Gods in Colorado Springs. The main thing is to a) anchor it in our familiar world — without other super-characters; and b) get out in nature. We’ve had enough urban superhero films. Get out in the wilderness, say I!

Incidentally, on YouTube there’s a little test that Zeke Norton did at Mainframe Entertainment for a potential TV series. It’s fairly elementary CG from a few years back, but kind of fun. (Watch that video here)

GG: Give us a breakdown of the process and thoughts behind the writing of some of your Concrete stories.

Provided by Paul Chadwick

Provided by Paul Chadwick

PC: I brainstorm. I fill sheets with free-associated ideas. Premise, character bits, local color worth incorporating, gags, visual potential. Then I do a page plan — just a list of the allotted pages and a rough guide to what happens on each page. A sentence per page. After that, I do a printed-sized rough, drawn and lettered.

For a miniseries, I work a little differently. I write a present-tense treatment, without dialogue, of the events unfolding. Just like a movie treatment. Then comes the drawing.

GG: According to your blog, you recently completed some new Concrete pages. What format will those be published in? You are also working on a prose Concrete novel. Has this been gestating for some time?

PC: If it gestated any slower it’d be an ectopic pregnancy! And shame on me — writing novels is how I’d like to spend my latter career. Paying work seems to take priority, though. As to the format those new stories will appear in, I’d best not say. But it’s related to Dark Horse’s 25th anniversary and Dark Horse Presents, its original, flagship book. They’ll announce things in due time.

GG: You posted some Concrete covers that are hand painted and in color. Do you prefer painting your covers to drawing them?

PC: I was trained as an illustrator, and did that for a while — book covers, ads, movie posters. I guess I’m still a bit of a frustrated painter at heart. Those five paintings will be wraparound covers to the next Concrete miniseries. I work on them each Sunday with a group of painters who meet at Ann Walbert’s studio. I guess that makes me a Sunday painter.

GG: You’ve been working on the art for a pulp DC series with Harlan Ellison for some time now. How is the book coming along? How was the experience of working with such a revered writer?

PC: Harlan is an accomplished, erudite man in his seventies who is still thirteen years old. He is a manic stand-up comic. He is an opinion machine. His failing health has lent a tragic air to this last year, but my friendship with him has been one of the happiest flukes of my life. The book has been a long time gestating, and I’m actually not supposed to talk about it, but it is a pulpy, time-traveling adventure about a group of despised misfits (Harlan’s favorite theme) who risk all to save a corrupt but all-we-have world. DC will announce it when it’s scheduled. I recently finished the art — the last of four 48-page issues. Ken Steacy is lovingly coloring the book, using a great deal of purple.

GG: In addition to all of this, you are also working on a kids series. This must be quite an experience given some of the adult topics you are used to working with in Concrete. How has the experience been different for you?

Paul Chadwick and his son Stephen

PC: I don’t know what possessed me. But it’s a character I did a painting of when I was thirteen (long since destroyed) — a little guy in a nightshirt and cap carrying a candle through a gloomy castle — who has haunted a particularly dear complex of imaginary memories from that time of my life. The strip is about his dreams, and his dog, who vexes him but whom he really loves. The dog always gets him out of the fix he’s in while dreaming.

GG: What else does the future have in store for you?

PC: Getting this stuff out the door and into print! I’m launching my son into his college career next year — he’s going into Physics — and hope the relief in responsibilities will allow me to be a more frequent presence in the comics shops. I’ve been mighty scarce the last few years (partly because I took a job on The Matrix Online, a MMORPG, which truncated my comics output). I hope to change that.

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It was a Concrete promotional poster from the ’90s that first caught my eye. A faded black and yellow piece of cardboard hanging behind the cash register of my local comic shop. Concrete, taking up much of the poster, leans over a shelf surrounded by the words “Can’t find what you’re looking for? Just ask!” To cut a long story short, that poster is now on my wall, and Concrete is firmly rooted in my heart.

Concrete was my first experience with comic literature, and I was enthralled with the concept. The books are deeply emotional, vivid, and deal with realistic situations. Events unfold on the page, and Concrete explains how he feels about what has happened. The extensive narration gives insight to the inner workings of his human brain. Although Concrete’s body is covered in rock, his heart and mind are delicate and complex organs. He has experienced loneliness, pain, sorrow and especially embarrassment. Even so, the mere sight of a beautiful smile or a peaceful landscape brings joy to his heart. The simple task of living is hard for a man made of stone.

On a whim, I sent a slightly reverent letter to Chadwick requesting an interview. He was happy to speak with me, and when I mentioned that I hadn’t read much of his other work, he promptly offered to mail me some comics. This was especially kind because I live in The Netherlands, and Chadwick is in the United States. I am now the proud owner of The World Below, The Matrix Online, and signed copies of The Gifts of the Night. I was overwhelmed by this thoughtful gesture from someone I hold in such high regard.

Reading Chadwick’s engaging and in-depth answers brought me that much closer to understanding the enigma that is Concrete. I am eagerly awaiting his next adventure!

If you haven’t had the chance to read Concrete, Chadwick has some sample stories up on his personal website. Open your mind to Concrete, The World Below, and more of his work here.