Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Abbott Handerson Thayer's Angelic Paintings

Abbott Handerson Thayer (1849-1921) was a symbolist of sorts, being intensely religious in a strongly non-church way. He was highly opinionated regarding on a number of matters, and as he aged he had psychological difficulties. All this is far too much for me to detail here, so be sure to link here and here for plenty of information about him.

Thayer's paintings that I've viewed in person are roughly painted in most areas, but seen at a distance or in reproduction they work well. Moreover, thanks in part to his personal kind of symbolism, they are unique and, to me, they fascinate.

According to the second link above, Thayer added angel wings to a number of his paintings, but not to depict his subjects (often his daughters) as actual angels. Read the link for an explanation, but for shorthand reasons, the word "Angel" is used below for image captions, and is the title found on the Internet. Today's post features his angel-wing paintings.

Gallery


Angel - 1889


Winged Figure - 1889


An Angel - 1893


For Robert Louis Stevenson memorial - 1903


Winged Figure Seated upon a Rock - 1903
Almost the same as the previous painting.


Angel - 1903

The Angel - 1903
This seems to be either a study or an incomplete painting.

Study of an Angel
Or maybe an unfinished work.


Winged Figure - 1904

Monday, February 16, 2015

Tom Lovell: Illustrator, Personified

Tom Lovell (1909-1997), like many illustrators of his generation, eventually left the trade to become a Fine Arts painter -- in his case, doing western scenes from his Santa Fe, New Mexico base. But during his active years, roughly 1930-70, he forged a splendid career.

Lovell's Wikipedia entry is here, his Society of Illustrators Hall of Fame page is here, and two blog posts worth viewing are here and here.

He began by illustrating for "pulp" (cheap) magazines while still at Syracuse University in upstate New York. From pulps, he soon moved up to the prestigious and better-paying "slick" magazines and remained there for the rest of his illustration career.

Lovell characterized himself as a visual story teller (his pulp period was good training for that, he allowed) and researcher. Regarding the latter point, he felt that his duty was to get details right, and this required a good deal of preparation because many of his subjects were historical. Motivation for this almost surely was the fact that illustrations with incorrect details are criticism-fodder for sharp-eyed readers.

One observer has commented that Lovell's style didn't change much over his career. This seems to be generally true, though he clearly adjusted it to the requirements of the subject. On the other hand, Lovell's style was not as distinctive as those of some other top-notch illustrators. That is, a typical Lovell illustration is clearly very competently done, yet it can be difficult to instantly identify it as his work without searching for his signature.

Gallery

Baloonists in trouble

Disposing of the body

Frightened woman

Houdini jumping off the Wheeling, West Virginia bridge

Painting the Orient
A Marine Corps sergeant on Asiatic duties in the 1930s, I think. Painted by Lovell when he was in the Corps during World War 2.

"Saratoga Trunk" illustration

Surrender at Appomattox
That's Robert E. Lee, at the left, surrendering his army to Ulysses Grant (at the table to the right), effectively ending the American Civil War.

Woman's Home Companion story illustration - May 1942

Couple lounging

It's raining

On the rocks

Stranded family

Friday, February 13, 2015

Hans Baluschek: Borderline Political

As his lengthy Wikipedia entry indicates, Hans Baluschek (1870-1935) was a man of the political left who made a career of painting and illustration until the National Socialists took power and terminated his livelihood.

Even though he had his motivations, the Baluschek images I viewed on the Internet were politically cautious, basically what is generally called "realism" or "genre" work. To put it another way, he seldom (or never, perhaps) made crude, in-your-face political cartoons-as-paintings in the manner of George Grosz or Otto Dix who were 20 years his junior and seem to have had no inhibitions in expressing rage and hate on canvas.

So to me Baluschek presents many interesting images of working class and lower-middle class life in Berlin from the late 1890s into the early 1930s, an era when Berlin was a very interesting place. Artistically, I'd place him in the amorphous neither good nor bad category, though he was a pretty good illustrator-reporter.

Gallery

Arbeiterstadt - Workers' City - 1920
A wintery scene showing S-Bahn tracks crossing over a rail yard.

Couple, graffiti - 1920s

Couple in restaurant hall - ca. 1910

Big City Street Corner - 1929

Sonntagslust - 1932
The title is a little hard to convey in English. "Sunday Delight" or "Sunday Pleasure" would reasonable translations, though few people depicted here seem to express those emotions. Perhaps that was the ironic point Baluschek was trying to make.

Bahnhofshalle - 1929
"Train shed" would be a somewhat literal, technical translation, though what we see here is a typical European train terminal, one in Berlin.

Städtlichter - City Lights - 1931
I can't identify the square shown here. But that probably doesn't matter much because the buildings were probabaly destroyed during World War 2.

Städtlischer Arbeitsnachweis für Angestellte - 1931
A drawing showing people entering and leaving an employment registration facility.

Wednesday, February 11, 2015

What is Art? - Reflections on 2014 Turner Prize Finalists

As happens every fall, the British component of the Art Establishment has spoken. Herein is the 2014 Turner Prize winner and the three other finalists.

Duncan Campbell was the winner; the Tate webpage citation is here, and includes the following: "Campbell makes films about controversial figures such as the Irish political activist Bernadette Devlin or the quixotic car manufacturer John DeLorean. By mixing archive footage and new material, he questions and challenges the documentary form."

As for the runners-up, there is Ciara Phillips.


The Tate link mentions "Phillips works with all kinds of prints: from screenprints and textiles to photos and wall paintings. She often works collaboratively, transforming the gallery into a workshop and involving other artists, designers and local community groups. Phillips has taken inspiration from Corita Kent (1918–1986), a pioneering artist, educator and activist who reinterpreted the advertising slogans and imagery of 1960s consumer culture." The image above of a Phillips exhibit credits the late Corita Kent with the "text works." Phillips' specialty is printmaking.

Then there is Tris Vonna-Michell (link). "Through fast-paced spoken word live performances and audio recordings Vonna-Michell (born Southend, 1982) tells circuitous and multilayered stories. Accompanied by a ‘visual script’ of slide projections, photocopies and other ephemera, his works are characterised by fragments of information, detours and dead ends."


James Richards' display of blankets from 2007, above, is titled "Untitled Merchandise (Lovers and Dealers)" -- not his Turner Prize effort -- that the Telegraph helpfully explains as showing artist Keith Haring's "dealers and boyfriends." The Tate link is here, including the following: "Born in 1983 in Cardiff, Richards was nominated for Rosebud, which includes close-ups of art books in a Tokyo library – the genitalia scratched out to comply with censorship laws."

So this is art worthy of our attention and respect.

Though I've seen neither Campbell's movies nor Vonna-Michell's standup schtick (though I'm virtually certain they're of the postmodernist ilk), what we seem to have here is a group of career-building posturers quite likely cynically gaming the postmodernist Art Establishment system by being "creative," "innovative," and "fearless" in shocking the bourgeoisie while posing as vedettes of the avant-garde.

Fundamentally, they are not as serious as they think (though they are unlikely to admit it).

But the real problem, in my warped (from their perspective) mind is the committee of establishmentarians who selected the finalists and winner. What on earth could they have been thinking? My guess is that they were fearful of being accused of conservatism.

I don't want to get into the business of trying to define "art." Though I think a useful distinction worth preserving is the concept of Fine Arts and Fine Arts - related illustration as opposed to other "arts" such as film, dance, graphic novels, and the self-promotional artifacts the Turner committee seems to prefer.

Moreover, I don't like the idea of "art" being defined by a body of "experts." That easily leads to bureaucratic rigidity exemplified by the French Academy in days of yore.

Nor do I especially welcome the self-proclaimed "artist" who defines whatever he is producing as "art." Actually, there is no real harm in that so long as there would be a philistine accusation-free zone where others could gauge those products against their own tastes and are allowed to publicly proclaim that what they are viewing is usually silly. Which is what I think most Turner Prize "art" is.

Monday, February 9, 2015

Art Fitzpatrick and Van Kaufman: Early Pontiac Grand Prix Illustrations

So far as I know when drafting this post, he is still alive and probably illustrating automobiles. That would be Art Fitzpatrick, born in 1920 or maybe a year or two earlier. Although he did automobile advertising art for several American car makers in the 1940s and 50s, his fame is largely due to his work for Pontiac in the 1960s and 70s in collaboration with Van Kaufman. Fitzpatrick rendered the cars and Kaufman provided the backgrounds.

I didn't notice a biography of either artist on a quick Google search. In place of that, some links dealing with Fitzpatrick's career and work are here, here and here. Of particular interest is this link which features an interview with him.

The present post features images created by Fitzpatrick ("AF" was the signature he used) and Kaufman ("VK") for Pontiac's 1962 and 1963 Grand Prix models. Fitzpatrick mentioned that the new (for 1962) Grand Prix model's name implied Europe, so he and Kaufman researched European backgrounds they thought would be suitable for advertisements. In one telling observation, he stated that their Pontiac illustrations were unusual for the times because the people in the scenes were not admiring the cars, but instead were doing other things that fit the context of the scene being shown.

I include 1962 Grand Prix illustrations because that was the first year for that model. The 1963 cars were based on a new body (note differences in the windshield), and I consider its styling especially nice; a thorough repudiation of the baroque styling excesses of the 1950s.

Gallery

1962 Pontiac Grand Prix
Shown along the Corniche high route along the French Riviera.

1962 Pontiac Grand Prix
Another Riviera setting, though I'm not sure where (Cannes?).

1962 Pontiac Grand Prix
France, again. Note the Citroën Traction-Avant in the background.

1962 Pontiac Grand Prix
Still in France, but again I can't pin down the location. Please comment if you know where.

1962 Pontiac Grand Prix
Big change: Back in the good old USA.

1963 Pontiac Grand Prix
This illustration might be from a brochure. Ditto the image immediately above it.

1963 Pontiac Grand Prix
One source has the setting as the canal along the Loire River.

1963 Pontiac Grand Prix
Might be Portofino. Note the sketchy style of both the car and background components. And the cyclist blocking part of the car: bold for a car ad then.

1963 Pontiac Grand Prix
In front of the Hotel de Paris in Monaco, down the hill a short ways from the Monte Carlo casino.

1963 Pontiac Grand Prix advertisement
On the Pont Alexandre III in Paris.

1963 Pontiac Grand Prix advertisement
That's Paris' Opéra Garnier in the background.

Cross posted at Car Style Critic

Friday, February 6, 2015

Tokyo's Frank Lloyd Wright Imperial Hotel: My Photos

One of famed architect Frank Lloyd Wright's "lost" buildings is his (1923-1967) Imperial Hotel in Tokyo.

Actually, it seems that part of it survives at the Meiji-Mura Museum near Nagoya (see the above link for details). Surviving bits are mostly in the form of exterior stone decorations, lobby furnishings and such because the brick and concrete construction of the original could not be disassembled.

It happened that I was in Japan a few times while serving in the U.S. Army and took some slide photos of the hotel that I recently scanned and digitally adjusted. The images aren't very good, but at least they offer a sense of what the Imperial Hotel was like a few years before it was demolished. Had I known its future, I probably would have taken many more photos to document the building.

Gallery

An architectural rendering of the Imperial Hotel. The images below deal with the entrance court area which appears at the right-center of the rendering. It faced out towards the Imperial Palace plaza. The wing in the foreground was along a street leading to the Ginza district and contained shops on its lower level.


Two postcard views of the hotel from around 1932, to judge by the automobiles. These images should serve as orientation to my four photos below.

This shows part of the gardens and a tiny glimpse of the building. It was taken in June of 1964.

Also taken in June, 1964. It shows the pond by the entrance as well as some entrance details. By this time, the stone ornamentation was getting pretty mildewed.

This photo and the next one were taken in March 1964 when I spent a week in Tokyo on temporary duty at the Stars and Stripes newspaper.. The weather was gloomy the day I took these photos. Worse, the film I used was Kodak's Ektachrome, a cheaper alternative to its now-discontinued Kodachrome color film. Seen here is the entrance and reflecting pond. Among the cars shown are a Chevrolet and a Cadillac, Japan having little in the way of domestically built large automobiles in those days.

This photo shows some of the brickwork and decorative detailing.

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

Dante Rossetti's Similar Faces of Different Models

One of my posts that's most often linked is this one dealing with Helen of Troy of the Homeric epic. Here is yet another version of Helen.

Helen of Troy - 1863

The model - Annie Miller, ca. 1860

It was by Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1828-1882), a founder of the famous Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood of young, mid-19th century British artists. He mostly painted what amounted to portraits of women in literary settings. He used various women for this purpose, and in his paintings, they all looked fairly similar, as we shall see.

The Wikipedia entry for Rossetti is here.

Regardless of who the model was, Rossetti usually transformed her into a woman with a long nose, a short upper lip/muzzle zone, a strong chin and a long neck. Also, her hair tended to be parted at or near the the center of her head and was usually long and wavy. Below are more examples of Rossetti's women along with photographs of the models.

Gallery

Beata Beatrix - 1864-72

The posthumous model - Elizabeth Siddal, ca. 1860
Siddal (1829-1862) was Rossetti's wife, who died young.

La Ghirlandata - 1871-74

The model - Alexa Wilding, ca. 1875

Bocca Baciata - 1859

The model - Fanny Cornforth, 1863
She was Rossetti's housekeeper and mistress for many years.

Astarte Syriaca - 1875-77

Beatrice - 1879

The model - Jane Morris (neé Burden), 1865
She was married to William Morris of the Arts & Crafts movement. It seems that Rossetti was infatuated with her, and her looks tended to merge into the paintings he made using other models, as can be seen above.