THESHOWINGS

About once a month beginning early in 1943 Barks and his second wife, Clara, took the two hour long car drive (100 miles (160 kilometers)) from their home in San Jacinto, California, to Western Publishing's Beverly Hills office in Los Angeles in order to personally deliver one or more new stories (see more on Western HERE). Usually Barks mailed the stories to the office, but the couple liked the scenic drive. Furthermore, Barks was expected to attend at least some of the special meetings dreamed up by managing editor Eleanor Packer.
These meetings were called Showings and they were the brainchild of the strong-willed and dominating Packer, who attempted to get an idea of how young readers of Western's comic book stories might perceive the material. This was done by gathering all available staff members present on the day next to her huge desk, whereupon some of the artists were chosen to read and, to some extent, reenact some of the new stories. At these sessions the versatile illustrator Carl von Buettner would often act as the artists' spokesman reading the stories out loud with great enthusiasm. Everybody adored Buettner's facial expressions and accentuations and this was especially true for Barks who always placed himself in the background, enjoying the appreciation and roaring laughter his stories received from his colleagues.
The sessions stopped in 1946 when Packer left Western, but Barks and his wife continued to visit the office on a monthly basis. This page attempts to give you a little insight in the value of the Showings.

This is a photo from Western's Beverly Hills office in 1957. Many of the depicted staff members were also employed in the first half of the 1940s, when the famous Showings took place. Below the staff is identified by name and their status in 1957:

1: Michael H. Arens, artist - 2: Carl von Buettner, editor of Golden Books - 3: J. Alfred Riley, sales - 4: Jane Werner Watson, author of Golden Books - 5: Alice Nielson Cobb, story editor - 6: Albert L. Stoffel, assistant to 15 - 7: Thomas J. McKimson, art director.
8: Ralph Heimdahl, artist - 9: Chase Craig, managing editor - 10: Francis J. Hoffman, sales - 11: A.L. Zerbe, sales - 12: John N. Carey, artist - 13: Guy Erne, sales - 14: Carl Barks, artist - 15: R.S. Callender, Vice President.

Statement from writer and artist Roger Armstrong in 1967

My recollections of Carl Barks go back to the days when I was barely out of my teens and landed my first honest-to-God comic strip (book) job with what was then the Whitman Publishing Company.

In those days there was a ritual in the Beverly Hills office, to which we all wended our ways with our assorted bundles of Porky Pigs, Sniffles and Mary Janes, etc., etc., ad nauseum - a ritual which I am convinced was nothing less than a refinement of the worst excesses of Torquemada at the height of the Spanish Inquisition! This ritual was called 'The Showing' - a harmless enough title on the face of it, but fraught with such agonies for the victim that my mind boggles at the mere recollection of it.
The ritual consisted of the hapless cartoonist being taken to the inner office, the Sanctum Sanctorum of the Big Boss, a hard-driving lady named Eleanor Packer. She would plump herself down in a great soft chair in front of a large board of directors-type table. All the other people who were in the outer offices - secretaries, clerks, flunkies of all sorts and, most horrible of all, any fellow cartoonists who happened to be in the office, bringing in their stuff - were all summoned and grouped about the table.
Then the art editor, a fellow with a waspish tongue (and a helluva fine cartoonist named Carl Buettner (since deceased, God rest his soul) would read - read out loud, mind you - the material spread out there on the table, that miserable extension of yourself that you had labored over for weeks, and all and sundry were invited to comment, look for mistakes, offensive dialogue, errors in punctuation, unclear drawing, in short, anything that would confuse a five-year-old child.
I will say one thing for the device: after a short apprenticeship at that outfit, there wasn't any comic book outfit, syndicate, etc., one could go to work where you wouldn't be the shining light of draughtsmanship, and one ended up an expert on the (written) English language. I honestly owe the great strides my drawing took in those days to 'The Showing.' But it was no fun while it was going on!

All this preamble to get to Carl Barks. Any of us fortunate enough to be on tap in the office on those days when Carl and his wife made the trip in from far off Hemet (where he had a chicken farm) bringing in the latest episode of the sage of the Ducks, we would get in on 'The Showing.' Needless to say, for Carl, it was nothing but cheers all the way through. He would stand, a painfully shy figure, in the background while the ritual proceeded. I'm convinced he turned his hearing aid off.

Statement from writer, artist, and editor Chase Craig in 1978

I do beg to differ with Roger Armstrong in his saying that Carl was embarrassed by Carl Buettner's reading of Carl's stories orally at our office. We all went into hysterics of laughter, and such appreciation of his work certainly could do nothing but give him a lift. Carl loves recognition of his talent as much as anyone I've ever met, and that's exactly what he got every time he ever came to the office.
In fact, it was a great day when Carl came in once a month to deliver his work. We all had lunch together and sort of celebrated the occasion. I repeat, he was not embarrassed by his reception. He loved it.

Statements from Carl Barks in 1978

I think the reason for The Showings were that Eleanor Packer and Buettner and those people were new at their business of editing comic books, and they felt that the best way to see how comic book stories were put together was to read them out loud. If they would read well, as you read them out loud, they would read well to the children.

The new stories were assessed. Carl Buettner read them, and Eleanor Packer examined the pages. I never had problems, because my dialogues were always very short and simple and Carl Buettner read them always with correct intonation. Then I was complimented for providing an acceptable story.
I cannot say that I ever felt euforic. But sometimes, if I had been pleased about a story, and they had given the impression that they found it good as well, then I would sometimes stop on the way back at a Chinese restaurant or such to celebrate.