Interview with "Kaiju Baseball" artist Chet Phillips

We here at The Baseball Card Blog appreciate fine art and its place within the hobby. From the bubbly, Topps-approved artwork of David Coulson to the punk aesthetic of Pat Riot (and everyone in between), the baseball card is the perfect pocket-sized canvas. 

Continuing our occasional interview series, today we're talking to Chet Phillips, who has just completed "Kaiju Baseball," an homage to Japanese Menko cards of the 1960s and the kaiju monster demons from the worlds of Godzilla and Ultraman.

The Baseball Card Blog: Tell us a little about your background as an artist.

Chet Phillips: With a BFA in painting and drawing, I worked as a commercial illustration with traditional tools for a decade. Clients included ad agencies, design firms, publishers and corporations. In 1992 I purchased my first Mac and switched to digital art, using the natural media software program Painter (I still use it to this day). A highlight for my commercial work came in 2000 when I was hired by Warner Brothers to illustrate 100+ pieces for the Harry Potter merchandising style guide. 

In the late 90s, I began a new chapter in my career, creating my own merchandise to sell online. It started with a handful of cigarette card–inspired sets of monkeys as WWI generals, steampunk monkeys and dogs and cats as famous authors, artist and musicians. I also have produced a number of limited-edition books, hand-bound by my wife (she's a professional bookbinder). I still do occasional commercial jobs, but spend the bulk of my time creating my own work for online sales, conventions and art galleries.

BBC Blog: Did you collect baseball cards as a kid? Or do you still collect?

CP: I did a little baseball card collecting when I was young, but gravitated more towards collecting comic book type cards. I was a big fan of Norman Saunders and collected his Batman series. I was never able to collect the entire original Mars Attacks! set, but did a trade with a schoolmate once for a dozen or so that I still treasure to this day. 

BBC Blog: What led you to kaiju, baseball, and Menko? 

CP: I've always loved the look and feel of Japanese printmaking. Over the last two to three years I've explored creating my own version of artwork with a similar feel. This series includes an alphabet book of kaiju monsters of my own design titled "Land of Kaiju," and a series that placed pop culture characters engaging in childhood activities, each with their own hiaju poem ("Childhood"). "Kaiju Baseball" was inspired by the look and feel of vintage Menko baseball cards with a parody mashup of kaiju monsters from the Godzilla and Ultraman universes.

BBC Blog: It's interesting that you chose to create a stand-alone baseball card set as part of this project. Did you have the intention to create a card set all along? Or was it borne out of the process of creating the art?

CP: This was intended to be a card set from the outset. Unlike past sets that I've created, I decided to take the idea further and produce an 18 x 24 poster of the group and also produce a cloisonné enamel pin. 

The set is divided into four teams that I devised, each with nine players. The set also includes four team cards for a total of 40 cards. Each card includes the team name, character name, team number and field position on the front in Japanese with the portrait. On the reverse I've included the same info in english along with a few basis stats. 

The card backs include a symbols for rock, paper and scissors as well as a fighting number system (for use like the children's card game War). Cards were professionally printed on sturdy 100-lb premium uncoated card stock. Each set comes in a green handcrafted Japanese-styled paper portfolio. The Japanese characters for the words "kaiju baseball" are stamped in gold foil on each label.

BBC Blog: What's your next project? 

CP: With our 6th year of exhibiting at San Diego's International Comic Con coming up next month, I'm putting the finishing touches on a book of characters and stories of my own invention that will be in the tradition of American tall tales. This, along with the new card sets, posters and pins will be available at my Small Press table (O-01, across from Oni Press.)

Check out Chet's Etsy shop if you're interested in purchasing the set or viewing more of his great stuff.

My National Experience: What I Got

I saw a lot of great stuff at The National, most of which I will never be able to afford. Gem-mint high-series commons from 1952 Topps. Autographed game-used bats, jerseys, posters, and one-of-a-kind pieces. A 1967 Kabaya Leaf Sadaharu Oh. An Ozzie Smith Gold Glove award trophy. Another one presented to Derek Jeter. A Muhammad Ali bathrobe. The Black Swamp Find.

But equally impressive was the range of dealers focused on 25-cent cards, three-for-a-dollar, and dollar cards. I got 30 commons for my 1965 Topps set for $10 total. I got five early Pedro Martinez cards for $1.25. I found one of the holy grails of my childhood (1987 Fleer Will Clark) for 25 cents.

I also found a dealer specializing in autographed cards. Now, that might not sound like a big deal to you, as autographed cards are everywhere, but I'm not talking about new, serial-numbered cards. I'm talking about old-school late 1980s, early 1990s basketball cards and 1980s baseball cards. This guy had easily 5,000 different basketball cards, and more than 20,000 different autographed baseball cards. I could've spent my entire budget with this dealer alone. Instead, at four for $10, I got these three basketball cards and an auto'd Dave Henderson rookie (1986 Red Sox represent!).

Now, I didn't get to the show until around 1pm on Saturday, but by 4:30pm I knew I didn't need to come back Sunday. I had seen much of the floor and really wasn't interested in shelling out a ton of cash on any of the autograph guest lineup. (I had also spent much of my budget.) Here's how I closed out the day:

I also purchased Gary Engel's Japanese Baseball Card Checklist and Price Guide - Vintage Edition. At $30 it was a bit pricey, but completely worth it, as Japanese cards are never included in any of the Beckett guides or the Standard Catalogue of Baseball Cards and Engel's guide is exhaustive. If you weren't at the show, Engel's guide also can be found on eBay.


In my next post I will include my overall review of the convention.

My National Experience: How I Stumped The National

I want to start by saying that The National was awesome. I saw the greatest variety of sports cards and memorabilia I've ever seen under one roof. Granted, that roof was over 300,000 square feet in size, but you recognize the sentiment. And even more impressive than the stuff I saw and bought were the people I met there, from Gary Engel, author of the Japanese Baseball Card Checklist and Price Guide - Vintage Edition, to Rob Klevens of the Japanese card–specializing Prestige Collectibles, to Ryan Christoff of CubanBaseballCards.com, who confirmed that that 1950 Toletero I had bought and sold on eBay a few years ago was indeed genuine (and that I was sort of an idiot for selling it...but I knew that already).

I also met John Parker of 99% Basketball. With a dealer booth a-splayed with cases containing the most bizarre basketball memorabilia and international rarities, I thought Finally! Someone who can identify my old poster and tell me what it's worth!

I had brought an old poster with me that I had found (i.e., ripped off a street-level billboard) while on a family trip to Amsterdam back in the early 1990s. As an aside, you ever walk through the non-tourist section of the Red Light District with your kids? I don't recommend it. It was scary. Anyway, I've kept the poster folded up in a drawer for the last 20 years, and actually had forgotten about it until I went back to my parents' house to sort through some stuff last year. Here's the poster:

Now, I wasn't expecting it to be worth a fortune. I know enough about poster collecting that anything with creases (that didn't start out with creases) doesn't have much value. Also, the back has significant paper loss, as it started its life pasted on a billboard. But the colors are still bright and the subject matter is unlike much else on the market. Granted, this is post–Dream Team, but the idea of a major American sports star like Magic Johnson barnstorming in another country is right up there with Babe Ruth's barnstorming tour of Japan in 1934. Surely, I thought, this is something with value that would defy condition sensitivity.

Here's where it gets interesting. The convention's unofficial tagline is that if you can't find it at The National, it doesn't exist. Well, Mr. Parker had never seen this poster. In fact, he had never heard of this European tour. So much for finding out more about it! Now, I have seen one or two references to the Pepsi Magic Tour on the Internet, including this YouTube video of the Magic All Stars versus a team called New Zealand All Stars.

But that's where my knowledge ends. Judging from the video, I'm guessing there are T-shirts and other memorabilia out there—certainly country-specific player uniforms worn by Magic and his all stars.

In my next post I'll showcase some of the cards I purchased at The National and share my thoughts on the experience.

Card Critic Review: 2008 Topps Heritage

Before I get into how much I like 1959 Topps (it’s by far the most brilliant Topps design of the early years, embracing jazz, beat, and a post-modernist pop culture sensibility within the staid, confines of baseball; plus it’s one of the few American card designs that was blatantly copied for a Japanese card set (1967 Kabaya Leaf, image shown from Rob's Japanese Cards)), I want to be perfectly clear about one thing: if it were up to me, this would be the last edition of Topps Heritage.

I have a few reasons. First, what does the word heritage mean? My cheap-ass dictionary has its meaning as valued objects and qualities such as cultural traditions, unspoiled countryside, and historic buildings that have been passed down from previous generations. So then by this definition, when exactly does the ‘unspoiled countryside’ era for Topps end? I think it has to end with 1959 (that’s when Fleer came on the market and stole Ted Williams). You could make a case that Fleer showing up in ’59 meant the same thing to Topps as the Bowman competition from 1951 to the buyout in 1955, but Topps/Fleer didn’t end the way Topps/Bowman ended and besides, Fleer is now owned by Upper Deck. You could also make the case that Fleer showing up really didn’t (and shouldn’t) mean very much when we’re talking about Topps Heritage, but I think that simply because there was competition (and that Topps doesn’t now own that competitor), no matter how hard Topps tried, their countryside was no longer unspoiled.

Second reason: If Heritage doesn’t end with the Fifties, it’ll end up being a runaway train. I’m a big fan of Topps design from the Sixties all the way up to 1978, but will collectors really want to go for Heritage ’78 in 2027? Maybe I’m in the minority, but I want Topps to be more original than Heritage by then. As a rejoinder to this point, there was an oft-maligned brand a few years ago called Upper Deck Vintage. These sets came out right when Heritage debuted, with Upper Deck pilfering the Topps design vault for three years worth of sets: 1963, 1965 and 1971 (and there was a fourth set, in 2004, but now I can’t remember what that set was supposed to emulate). The point of adding this is that you’ll get no argument from me that Heritage sets featuring these three designs wouldn’t be gorgeous, but Upper Deck’s beaten them to the punch. If anything, Topps should retire the name ‘Topps Heritage’ and call the remaining sets ‘Topps Classic.’

Third reason: A set like Heritage has to toe the line like other sets in today's variation-crazed environment. The intentional misprint and variation are enjoying renewed popularity these days at One Whitehall Street. No brand or set is safe, and Heritage is no exception. Black backs, misspelled names, alternate team uniforms—it’s a lot to pay attention to, especially in addition to the requisite Chrome, Refractors and black-bordered Chrome parallels, plus all the other inserts. And the short-printed cards, mustn’t forget about those… In the end it’s all so tiresome, you know? It almost feels like you have to peel away all these layers just to get to the set.

And that’s the rub: Heritage should first and foremost be about the set, but because it’s Topps (which is almost approaching a mid-Nineties-Fleer level in terms of number of different inserts competing for attention), and because it’s been created and released in the company’s current bells-and-whistles-and-hidden-shit environment, it’s not about the set.

Out of the four shrink-wrapped boxes sent over from Dave and Adam’s Card World (part of the D & A agreement with The Blog), I’ve opened three. Do I have a set? No. Should I? You’re goddamned right I should. 72 packs in and I’m missing at least 50 cards, plus God knows how many untold variations. And that’s just the base set. What’s the deal with that? For set builders, getting an insert in a pack means getting one less card towards completing the set. Add in a healthy amount of doubles and triples—anybody need a Russell Martin?—and very soon you’re in my position. In any case, even if this isn’t the last set we see out of Topps Heritage, it’s definitely the last new set I’ll collect.

It’s good to end on a high note, you know? For all the crap I just spewed about the inserts, the base Heritage ’59 set holds high notes in spades: The classic design; the checklist homage; the team card checklists; the titles of the combo cards; the color spectrum on the fronts; the return of the facsimile autograph; the stealth airbrushing; the rookie parade; the modern green on red (and even black on red) of the backs; the cartoons; the curves and e.e. cummings sans serif Helveltica typography in the spotlight on the front; the squares and straight lines dominating the backs. Even the photographs (usually a Heritage low point) are consistently sharp. The only noticeable drawback for me is the Heritage logo on the front. It seems larger within this design than it has in years past. It’s too bad they couldn’t have relegated it to the back or done it as a watermark.

I also like that the Topps photo editors didn’t shy away from going with photos that show just how pissed off, high or completely out of it a given player is, which rings true to the original photo choices made in 1959. A large number of players squinted their eyes and contemplated the universe in the original, while today's players all seem to be thinking You want me to stand look/stand where? It's great.

Tonight I re-read my review of 2006 Heritage, and while I had high hopes going in for that set and came away disappointed, it thrills me all the more that this year’s set is a winner. It’s a perfect way to retire a brand.