John Clymer's Countryside Covers

Up until shortly before 1920, the population of the United States was more than half what the Census Bureau defines as "rural." By that, the Bureau meant either living outside any kind of town or else living in a town or built-up area of less than 2,500 population. The rural share of population continued to decline after that point, but its nostalgic echo remained in the popular mind.

The Saturday Evening Post was the dominant general-interest, mass circulation magazine in the United States during the first two-thirds of the twentieth century, and its editors did their best to select cover illustrations that appealed to as many current and potential readers as possible. The most famous Post cover artist is Norman Rockwell, but he obviously couldn't be burdened with producing an illustration every week; his production at best was around one cover illustration per month. Thankfully for the Post, there were plenty of other illustrators willing and largely able to take up the slack.

Some of those illustrators had artistic "personalities" more distinct than others. One of these was John Clymer (1907-1989) whose Wikipedia entry is here.

My mother always enjoyed seeing cover art by Clymer because he was born and raised where she went to college -- Ellensburg, Washington, a small city just on the east side of the Cascade mountain range. Clymer mostly painted outdoor scenes from the Mountain West part of North America, these for advertising, art gallery sales and magazine illustration.

Being a city boy, I was never as taken with Clymer's work as was my mother. And today my opinion is that his work was professionally competent, yet somehow lacking in the spark that sets top-notch artists and illustrators apart from the ordinary. That said, there is no denying that Clymer had a successful career: painting even one Post cover was a large feather in any illustrator's cap.

Below is a chronologically arranged selection of Clymer's cover art for the Post.
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The setting for this illustration is easy for me to identity. The mountain in the background is Mt. Hood in the state of Oregon as seen from the east in the fruit orchard region near the Columbia River, perhaps on the Washington State side.

The two covers above obviously have Mountain West settings, but I'm not sure where. The illustration immediately above shows mountains similar to those Clymer would have seen near Ellensburg, but I can't be sure that they aren't the Tetons or some other cluster of jagged peaks.

This looks like Vermont, New Hampshire or Upstate New York. It is not a Mountain West scene for once.

Orchards again, but the green, rounded hills don't remind me of orchard county in Washington or British Columbia.

Back in the Mountain West. The upper scene could be in any number of places. The lower cover has pretty dramatic mountains, but I can't place them; can any reader help?

The source site indicates that the image is of Gloucester, Massachusetts.

Brickwork Moderne Odeon Cinema

In the 1930s the style was sometimes called Moderne, though now the term Art Deco is more likely to be used for the architecture of cinemas built in those days by the Odeon chain in Britain. I think Moderne is actually the better term because the style was comprised more of curved corners and streamline stripes or flutings than the geometry-inspired ornamentation typical of 1920s Deco.

The movie industry was one that skated through the Great Depression in good shape, even prospering. That was probably because people were willing to spend a small amount of money for an evening's entertainment even (especially?) in hard times in lieu of other spending. So theaters were built, and the Odeon organization decided to build theirs in the trendy architectural idiom of the day.

Below are examples of Odeon's 1930s cinemas.

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Harrogate

Waltham Forest

Birmingham

Colwyn Bay

Peckham

Chester

York
Odeon's cinemas in Chester and York differ a bit from the other cinemas shown because they were located in historic cities, places so old that they were Roman Legion bases. The most noticeable architectural concession is the use of brickwork rather than some other material as cladding.

York - August, 2012
Here is the York (former) Odeon as I saw it in August. For more information about the building's recent history including a three-year closing, see here and here

Bastien-Lapage: A Strong Influence

The word most associated with Jules Bastien-Lepage (1848-1884) is influential. At times that influence was indirect. The link above cites British artist and critic Roger Fry contending the Bastien-Lepage greased the skids for public acceptance of Impressionism, an opinion that not everyone would support.

But it isn't hard to find examples of direct influence. For instance, Roger Billcliffe in his book The Glasgow Boys describes how several members of that group of Scottish painters were strongly influenced by Bastien-Lapage's work during the early-mid 1880s.

Other artists did paintings in his style. Interestingly, all the examples I've encountered thus far are not French, though I suppose there are a few French paintings that fit the pattern. Here is what I've turned up:

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Pauvre Fauvette - by Jules Bastien-Lepage - 1881
This is a typical Bastien-Lepage country scene that can be used for comparison to the images below.

"Noon" - by George Henry (1858-1943) - 1885

"Schoolmates" - by Sir James Guthrie (1859-1930) - 1884-85

On the Loing: An Afternoon Chat" - by Sir John Lavery (1856-1941) - 1884
Henry, Guthrie and Lavery are considered Glasgow Boys, though Lavery is more peripheral than the other two.

"Toil and Pleasure" - by John Robertson Reid (1857-1926) - 1879
Reid was Scottish, but trained in Edinburgh and did most of his work in England.

"Boy with a Hoe (April)" - by Elizabeth Adela Forbes (1859-1912)
She was Canadian, but spent a good part of her life in England as the wife of famed Newlyn School painter Stanhope Forbes (1857-1947).

Shepherd boy and flock by Charles Sprague Pearce (1851-1914)
Pearce was an American who went to France to study in 1873 and spent the rest of his career in France.

Henry Raeburn, Rule-Breaker

Sir Henry Raeburn (1756-1823) is a painter whose work I've liked for just about forever. I first encountered him years ago at New York's Metropolitan Museum of Art while on weekend passes from Fort Slocum, then home to the Army Information School, where I learned the dark arts of journalism and public relations. Raeburn's Wikipedia entry is here.

Raeburn's mature style was based on strong, smooth brushwork that created portraits which conveyed painterly solidity slightly softened by some blending and use of selective small value distinctions. At its most characteristic, the sitter's face appears borderline out-of-focus. This Raeburn "touch"makes many of his works instantly identifiable.

As noted, the Met has some Raeburns in its collection and others can be found here and there in the United States. But a good place to find them is in his native Edinburgh in Scotland, specifically in the Scottish National Gallery main building and in the nearby Scottish National Portrait Gallery. I vised both museums recently and was able to see a number of fine Raeburns.

After a while I began to notice something.

Several portraits featured the almost-out-of-focus look on faces, yet other objects such as collars and other bits of clothing were sharply rendered. This is counter to conventional wisdom for portraiture where eyes and other key facial features are emphasized while less important details such as clothing are to be rendered less distinctly so that the face is the focus of attention.

Raeburn painted many portraits where the normal procedure was followed or else where face and clothing received equal emphasis. But a number of paintings of men (usually) done in the last 15 or so years of his career followed the pattern I had finally noticed.

Why did he do this? I do not know. Perhaps he stumbled onto the technique, saw that it could yield appealing results, and then continued to use it.

How did he get away from this deviation from convention? Probably because the face is the natural focus of attention almost no matter what.

Below are some examples.
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James Waldrop of Otbrane Hill - c.1820
Note the white collar that stands out more by its contrast to its background than by crisp edges alone.

John Playfair - c.1811
The same holds here. Those early 19th century Scots certainly liked dressing in black.

James Watt - 1815
Not a good reproduction here. The skin colors in the actual painting appear normal (not so yellowish). But the face does have a slightly blurred appearance whereas the area around the collar is more tightly painted. Americans can see this portrait at the Huntington Library in San Marino, California (near Pasadena).

Major General Charles Reynolds - c.1818
Here the balance is closer, though most of the crisp detailing is on the uniform; only the eyes are sharp facial features.

Sir Walter Scott - 1820
Again, the eyes are crisply painted. Yet the sharpest detailing is otherwise reserved for the chain on Scott's chest and the white collar.

Nieuport Aircraft: From Elegant to Ugly

During the 1930s the aesthetics of French military equipment improved markedly. I wrote about the appearance of battleships here, and in this post I consider aircraft, featuring an exception to the general trend.

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Amiot 143 - first flight of Amiot 140, 1931
The Amiot 143 was part of the 140 series of 1931. It and other bombers and "multiplace combat aircraft" (a French theoretical concept of multi-rôle aircraft that proved impractical in practice) of the late 1920s and early 30s were stunningly ugly.

Amiot 351 prototype - 1938
But by the later 1930s French bombers were much more sleek, including the Amiot 350 series. It's hard to believe that the Amiot firm could be responsible for such different designs over such a small interval.

Nieuport-Delage Ni-D 62 - from 1928
Now for the counter-example. Nieuport was one of the major builders of fighter planes on the Allied side during the Great War, and it continued that tradition through the 1920s with its 29 and 42 series. The Ni-D 62 was a major refinement of the early 1920s 42, though its performance was not much better. If you look closely at the sleek (in its day) 62, you will notice that it isn't a biplane. Rather, it is a sesquiplane with one full wing mounted high and a half-wing mounted at the lower part of the fuselage. A tertiary airfoil of sorts can be seen between the landing gear wheels.

SNCAC NC 1070 - 1947
Another triumph of the French tendency to value theory over practice was the nationalization of much of its aircraft industry in 1936. The Nieuport firm, already a part of another company, completely disappeared, becoming part of the SNCAO (Société Nationale des Constructions Aéronautiques de l'Ouest) which itself was later merged into the SNCAC (Société Nationale de Constructions Aéronautiques du Centre). The NC 1070 was a clandestine World War 2 project for a carrier-based attack aircraft.

SNCAC NC 1070 - three-view drawing
These plan drawings illustrate the odd, ugly appearance of the NC 1070 better than most photos can. Its wings folded just outboard of the engine nacelles and its length was stumpy indeed. These features were intended to make it compatible with elevators transferring aircraft between the hangar deck and the flight deck. Also, the short length would allow more of these aircraft to be spotted on the flight deck, an important consideration in carrier operations. The 1070 was flight tested, but never entered production even though an order had been contemplated at one time.

SNCAC NC 1071 - 1948
The NC 1071 was a jet propelled version of the NC 1070, and it was equally ugly. It too was test flown, but again there were no production versions.

In the Beginning: John Twachtman

Among my myriad character flaws is that I've never much liked hardcore Impressionism of the mature Monet variety. It surely has to do with the fact that such images are too vague for my taste. I really appreciate a hard edge here and there, and a value (light-dark) design is welcome indeed.

So it is that I've never been much of a fan of the American Impressionist John Twachtman (1853-1902) aside from his Arques-le-Battaille currently residing the Met in New York (also see image below). His Wikipedia entry is here, a website devoted to him here, and a chronological presentation of his paintings is here.

But then there is the early Twachtman, before the Impressionist bug bit him, and there is more to him than Arques-le-Battaille. Take the painting shown at the top of this post, for example. It was buried in the storage area of Seattle's Fry Art Museum and only recently reappeared in conjunction with the museum's reopening following reconfiguration of gallery layouts.

The painting is titled "Windmills, Dordrecht" and was created in 1881 or 1882 while Twachtman was vising Europe with his new bride. It might be a bit hard to tell from the small image, but the painting (which in fact isn't very large) was painted with crispness and economy. Very pleasing to me, at least. Makes me wonder how things would have turned out had he never taken up Impressionism.

Below are two paintings from the first part of his career and three from the later part when he regarded himself as an Impressonist.

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"Dunes Back of Coney Island" - c.1880
This painting was also on display at the Frye reopening.

Arques-le-Battaille - 1885
This might be Twachtman's very best.

"Figure in a Landscape" - c.1895
He seldom painted people. This is an Impressionist portrait of sorts.

"Gloucester Harbor" - 1900
There are plenty of details in this scene, but they get smudged away thanks to the Impressionist style.

"Waterfront Scene, Gloucester" - c.1901
Structures with clean edges dominate this scene, so Twachtman was forced to tighten things up compared to what he might have done if he were painting a countryside scene.

Molti Ritratti: Winston Churchill

I assume all those reading this post know who Winston Churchill was, but that assumption might be resting on thin ice, given the quality of educational systems in the USA and some other countries.

He is surely best known to posterity via photography and film, rather than from painted portraits. Nevertheless, portraits of him were painted. Some are presented below in approximate reverse-chronological order.

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By Yousuf Karsh - 1941
So I changed my mind. Let's start with Karsh's iconic photographic portrait to set the scene.

By Andy Thomas
This is posthumous, but I don't have a date. I doubt that Churchill would ever have posed with cigar and whisky. Nor could he have held a smile very long while posing.

By Bernard Hailstone - 1955
A site showing this image states that it was his last official portrait.

By Graham Sutherland - 1954
This is the portrait that his wife Clementine famously had destroyed after he died. I can't blame her, though one can find defenders of Sutherland's work if you Google a little.

By Paul Wyeth
I could find no documentation about this one, but it clearly commemorates Churchill's induction as a Companion of the Order of the Garter.

By Frank Mason - 1952
I have no background on this painting either.

By Douglas Granville Chandor - 1946
This was painted after the war when Churchill was no longer Prime Minister. He is shown in the uniform of the Royal Air Force, in which he held honorary status.

By Walter Sickert - 1927
Apparently Sickert, a friend of Clementine, gave Winston some tips on how to paint and did this portrait sketch.

By William Orpen - 1916
In 1916 Churchill was back in the army following his resignation as Admiralty First Lord, so I'm not clear as to when Orpen actually painted this. I suspect 1916 is the completion date and the bulk of the work was done earlier.

By John Lavery - 1915
This was probably done when Churchill was still First Lord.