The Fantagraphics family suffered a heartbreaking loss this week with the passing of one of our own. Ryan McCardle joined our staff in 2022 as a book designer, working remotely from his home in upstate New York. At that time, Ryan had been undergoing treatment for almost three years for Chordoma, a rare form of bone cancer. We were looking for a full time designer, but Ryan’s ongoing treatment prevented him from working full time; in fact, he had been unable to work at all the previous few years and he wasn’t entirely sure how much work he could handle. It was, frankly, a leap of faith on both sides that it would work out. But after conducting a lengthy hiring process and interviewing many candidates, it was clear to us that Ryan was not only the best designer who applied, but also someone we genuinely liked and wanted to work with, and we offered him the job.
It was a great match. Ryan fit seamlessly into our art department, working closely alongside fellow designers Justin Allan-Spencer, Kayla E., and Christina Hwang, as well as the rest of our art and editorial departments. He quickly established himself as a creative and thoughtful designer, a worthy addition to what I consider the best design department in the history of American comics publishing. Like most creative types at Fantagraphics, he was passionate about his work and had his hand in his own creative side projects—notably his own record/arts label, Furious Hooves. He was also kind, patient, and seemingly without ego, though I suspect he was just really good at hiding that because people as talented as him rarely exist without one.
Two months ago, Ryan had to step down from his position due to serious complications from his cancer and treatment. We had hoped it would be a temporary sabbatical, and he did, too; we kept the door open for what we hoped would be his eventual return. We are devastated by the loss, but grateful to have had the time with Ryan that we did. Our love goes out to his wife, Jenny, and the rest of his non-Fanta family and friends. — Eric Reynolds
On September 2, 2022, after we introduced Ryan to the rest of the Fanta staff via email, he replied, “Thanks for the warm welcome! I’m so thrilled to begin this great adventure with Fantagraphics.” We’re only sorry this grand adventure didn’t last longer. Ryan designed primarily licensed books, but also some original graphic novels (such as Nudism Comes To Connecticut, where the authors, Susan Shade and Jon Buller, loved working with him) and I served as editorial liaison on most of them. I asked him if he’d like to design our (then) new line of Atlas collections because I thought he’d dig the retro 1950s vibe, and he excitedly leaped into it. He designed the first five volumes, including the magnificent forthcoming collection of Al Williamson’s work. These books allowed him to create customized, hand lettered logos, something he excelled at and, I think, particularly enjoyed (his logo for In The Days of the Rockets is a stunner). He also designed both our EC series and our Carl Barks series. Working on licensed books can be nerve-wracking and requires patience and equanimity, which Ryan had in abundance. He was such a pleasure to work with — temperamentally good natured and always coming up with ingenious design solutions that perfectly suited the project. On the more personal level, when he would tell me about his forthcoming medical treatments, I always marveled at the humor, stoicism, and, yes, courage, with which he approached them. When he informed us that he’d have to put the job on hold until he got through another medical ordeal, we selfishly hoped —and assumed— he’d return and were stunned when we learned he didn’t make it. Ryan was a first rate guy. He was valued and he will be missed. — Gary Groth
Ryan was a creative, kind spirit. Generous and empathetic, funny and gracious, and his indomitably positive spirit a model for us all. Even though we worked a continent apart, it always felt like he was working in just the next office. Had it not been for COVID and the expansion of remote work, we would have never had the opportunity to work together, so at least one good thing came out of that very strange and broken time. Seeing the outpouring of kind words from his family, friends, and colleagues is a joy to see and confirms that Ryan was a much-beloved part of many people’s lives. We are poorer for his passing, but deeply enriched by our brief time working together.
Kayla, Ryan and I were half-jokingly, half-seriously considering a trip to Dollywood; I think a memorial adventure to the happiest place in Appalachia is in order.
Fuck cancer. — Justin Allan-Spencer
Ryan, in the event that you are surfing the web from heaven, I’m going to address this to you. I miss you, dude. In your absence, I’ve been reflecting a lot on how incredibly good you were at knowing when to be serious, how to be vulnerable, and the exact right moment to make a joke. I think you would probably know better than I do right now how to communicate my grief and somehow still celebrate your silliness — how to mourn and simultaneously honor your joy.
Your deep irreverence was always outmatched by an even deeper reverence — for life, for your wife, for your community, for your art. These past few days, there has been a genuinely devastating vacancy in the group chat. Your absence is so enormous. We love you. We miss you terribly. — Kayla E.
Sweet boy Ryan. With every interaction Ryan so effortlessly communicated his thoughtfulness, his humility, and his kindness. He did this so easily because he was such a genuinely thoughtful, kind, generous, and loving person. If this is how we all perceived him professionally, I can only imagine what a great joy, a source of comfort and compassion he was for his family and friends. I am devastated for his loved ones. And so grateful to Ryan for being in our lives as he was. Thank you for being with us as long as you did, for being so kind and such an admirable human being. You did wonderfully. We love you, Ryan. — Christina Hwang
A selection of some Ryan’s exceptional cover designs follows:
