Artist’s nearest & dearest gather
By Mark Voger, author
‘Futuristic: Rockets, Robots and Rayguns of Space Age Pop Culture’
When there’s a band playing Beatles; and a table piled with gorgeous artwork; and smiling folks trading funny anecdotes, you’d assume this was a happy occasion. Which it was.
An event held on May 10, 2025, was intended as the celebration of a life, not the mourning of a death. Friends, fans and family of John Graziano — the revered artist who died at 62 on Aug. 17, 2024 — gathered at the Climax Brewery in Roselle Park, NJ, to remember him.
The accomplished, ridiculously talented Graziano was best known for illustrating the syndicated comic strip “Ripley’s Believe It or Not” from 2004 to 2021. Before that, he was the official commercial artist for Dan Curtis Productions (“Dark Shadows”). Graziano’s portrait of actor Jonathan Frid as TV vampire Barnabas Collins was marketed as a popular poster. Graziano also had a band, Carnaby St., that specialized in Beatles and other “British Invasion” groups.
After parking on Valley Road and walking toward the brewery, I came across three people dressed in Sixties-inspired garb. “You look like John Graziano people,” I ventured. Two of the three were indeed former members of Carnaby St. I asked: “Do you remember playing a dingy bar in Ocean Township in Monmouth County in the Nineties?” (That’s where I once saw John’s band.) Muttered the drummer: “They were all dingy.”
Saturday was sunny and beautiful, and the event (organized by John’s sister, Annette) was held outdoors behind the brewery. The back of the building was opened for those who wished to sample Climax’s craft brews. There was a stage area cluttered with amps and drums and a large banner showing photos of John.
Annette kicked things off by sharing memories of her big brother. “Some of you know that John and I were adopted from different families,” she said. “The running joke was that I cost more, but mom loved John best.”
Another speaker was Jersey TV personality Looney “Skip” Rooney, a cast member of “The Uncle Floyd Show.” (I recalled that Skip had a local cable TV show when I lived in Elizabeth in the Eighties. About 10 years later, John introduced me to his friend Skip at a Chiller Theatre Expo. That same day, I introduced John to my friend Michael Townsend Wright, yet another “Uncle Floyd Show” guy. I joked that John and I were now locked in a competition: Dueling “Uncle Floyd Show” Cast Member Friends.)
Remnants of Carnaby St. reunited to play the music so beloved by their departed bandmate. The group opened with “Nowhere Man,” identified as John’s favorite Beatles song.
The gentleman on the left in the “Yellow Submarine” shirt led the band in — you guessed it — “Yellow Submarine.” He played a mean kazoo solo on Ringo Starr‘s version of “You’re Sixteen.”
Annette did something that was surprisingly generous: She set up a long table covered in John’s original artwork, old photos, and even a few model kits he’d built, inviting attendees to take any pieces that meant something to them. As a boyhood friend of John’s said: “Some of that stuff’s worth money.”
But this seemed like a genius move to me, as someone who worries that the career souvenirs I leave behind will create a mess for my survivors. Thanks to Annette’s gesture, good homes were found for John’s art and memorabilia.
It was a feast for the eyes just to look at it all. There were “Ripley’s” originals and many proofs; childhood art; Chiller Theatre programs; much horror-themed freelance art; and a toon John drew of Carnaby St. (above) in the vague style of the Sixties Saturday-morning TV cartoon, “The Beatles.” A woman held up a small, gorgeous painting of Alastair Sim as Scrooge and asked me: “Do you know who this is?”
Above are details of two pieces from John’s boyhood. At left is a pencil drawing of Frid as Barnabas, which a school buddy remembered watching him draw in high school. At right is a painting of Ray Harryhausen‘s giant cyclops from “The 7th Voyage of Sinbad” (1958).
Me, I grabbed a real prize: a “Dick Tracy” model kit manufactured by the Aurora Plastics Corp. of Hempstead, Long Island, which John painted, built, signed and dated. The kit was lovingly and cleverly customized by John. I plan to post about it, with photos, in the near-ish future.
Read more about John Graziano HERE.
As a parting thought, I felt compelled to colorize John’s self-caricature from his Carnaby St. toon (above). I remember when he was that guy — that kind, approachable, curly haired guy who had fallen in love with the pop-art past, and was himself compelled to express that love with his pen and brush.