HERGÉ

HERGÉ TINTIN Original box from plate no. 2 of L'Oreille cassée published in Le Petit Vingtième, December 5, 1935. India ink, watercolor and white gouache on paper 14.9 × 16.9 cm (5.87 × 6.65 in.) An exceptionally large square First of all, it's the sumptuous format that astonishes. The square is seventeen centimeters high, whereas most of Hergé's original plates are less than ten centimeters. The explanation is simple: this square comes from a plate published in the legendary Petit Vingtième, where Tintin's adventures were presented in three strips of two black-and-white images, rather than four strips of three color images (which was the norm from 1942 onwards). This box comes from plate 2 of the original version of L'Oreille cassée, and was published in the weekly supplement of Le Vingtième Siècle on Thursday, December 5, 1935, the day the new Tintin story began. The context was historical: the reporter had just returned from China. A few weeks earlier, he had embarked for Europe with his dog and luggage, in Shanghai, on the liner Ranpura. We find him here, at home, 26 rue du Labrador, in his pyjamas. It's the first time we've seen the dashing Tintin, in slippers, in the privacy of his own home, between two adventures, in one of his albums. It would be exceptional to find him in this situation later on. In addition to the fact that Hergé had never shown Tintin at home, this pivotal image shows the young explorer decorating his apartment with an imposing Chinese vase, which he must have brought back from his stay in the land of the "Blue Lotus". Hergé is also in tune with current events: the radio broadcasts news of the war in Abyssinia between the Negus' government troops and the Italian army sent there by Mussolini. Could Addis Ababa be Tintin's next destination? No, because the next sequence shows him following another "breaking news" story: a mysterious theft that has just been discovered at the Ethnographic Museum. He will soon be investigating the disappearance of an Arumbaya fetish, and it's to the scene of another war that he will soon be led: the Gran-Chaco war, which is then pitting Bolivia against Paraguay. It's a typical image from Hergé's early period, when he worked alone, without any collaborators, when he did everything himself: composition, setting and drawing of characters, scenery and texts. A period, too, when everything was in its place and nothing was superfluous, a far cry from the Studios Hergé period when his collaborators had to justify their presence alongside the master. Two characters chatting, a wall, an open door, a vase, a radio broadcasting the day's news... and nothing more. But there is! A towel in the hero's hand, to confirm that he's heading for the bathroom. The format of the square has not induced the designer to fill his drawing with unnecessary detail. Everything is homogenous and clear. A forward movement immediately confirms the hero's dynamic character. The team he forms with Snowy is underlined by a dialogue in which the friendly mutt confirms his grumpiness. The chatter on the radio, because it's placed on the right, is naturally seen as secondary, but it's not useless. In Hergé's hand, the supple, ample writing in capital letters contributes to the overall harmony of the drawing. A light bluish wash on the background was originally intended to indicate to the photoengraver which areas were to be covered with mechanical greyscale. Today, as in the past, this subtle play of watercolors detaches the protagonists from the background and ensures a perfect transition between the luminous foreground at daybreak and the darkness of the bathroom towards which Hergé directs his world: his characters and his readers. This is Tintin's black-and-white period, and Hergé distributes his blacks with discernment. Not only are they found on a doorway, but also on a pair of slippers, on a vase and its stand, on the legs of a pedestal table and on the loudspeaker of a radio. Scattered but logical and balanced. One last piece of information: the equivalent vignette in the 1942 color album is not by Hergé, but by an obscure assistant.