Fine Lines and Solid black, Vol. IV, A History Lesson

Bump in the road, but I'm here now.

A few things on the list, but it's been quite a while since I posted a Fine Lines, so I'm going to go there today. It's also good because a Dover book I've been waiting for (to mention here) is now available, so should you thirst for more, 'tis but a few clicks away.

Last Fall when I was putting together a syllabus for my History of Animation and Illustration class, I came to an area for required reading. All of the books I'd like to require for such a class, are out of print. I recommended a few, but I couldn't require any. But next Fall, I have one for the list.

500 Years of Illustration: From Albrecht Durer to Rockwell Kent, by Howard Simon. Originally published in 1942 (That's important, because when Simon speaks of modern work, he's talking about the late '30s and early '40's.)

A tome full of great line art and graphics, this lengthy history starts with Albrecht Durer's woodcut prints, hits William Hogarth, William Blake, and mid-nineteenth century masters, meanders through Victorian era early-illustrators, and wraps up with an international tour of some of the best line illustrators from the early 20th century. If you like your illustration art with a more graphic quality—where it's about the drawing—this is your book.

While it contains no color, the drawings and prints it contains (over 400!) and the range of the artists that it samples—make it a great add to the shelf, both as reference and for inspiration. Some of the pieces and styles to get lost in—character designs by W. Heath Robinson, up top, followed by Walter Crane designing pages for William Morris, Edmund J. Sullivan's image from
The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam... the source of all of
those Grateful Dead stickers.  Harry Clarke,
fantastically creepy as always, and Franklin Booth,
getting more value out of ink line than anyone else.
Cover image is by Aubrey Beardsley.

An Officer of the Society

This ALMOST would have been an entry for the "working class illustrator" column. Some solid work from someone you've likely never heard of. Almost. Then James Gurney (Yes, THAT James Gurney) brought this portfolio of work to our attention at Dover. Two portfolios, actually, originally published in 1920. Two printed portfolios of figure studies, all done from life.

Arthur Ignatius Keller (1866-1924) was one of the founding members of the Society of Illustrators, and became the president in 1903. Better than adequate, Keller was a regular to most of the big magazines of the day, and did some book work as well. His 1906 Sleepy Hollow is a real gem of a find, jammed with details and sketch work, even if perhaps a bit overdone by today's standards. When I was asked my opinion on Keller's drawings from life, I concluded that if Dover would print it, they had already sold a copy to me. His ability to capture a communicative gesture, in both a quick study or in a drawing full of deep shadows and hot highlights—shows a dedication that paid off handsomely.

The original 1920 edition is prints of photographs of the art. The collage type approach that makes up the pages was often uneven in its tone, so for the Dover edition it was decided to even the background, while preserving the line work and the white chalk as well. The two color treatment used to reprint the 90 year old works gives a nice sense of warmth, without flattening out the tone. It's great to have these masterful renderings available for anyone who wants to see them, or study some good drawing. Shown here, 2 pages from the portfolio, a pair of magazine illustrations (?) and lastly, one of the full color plates from that 1906 edition of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow—

Jim Vadeboncouer's Keller bio—


A nice lengthy bio of Keller on a site about Sherlock Holmes illustrators—

A Mad tea-party, not a Mad Hatter...

Did you know... that Carroll never uses the phrase mad hatter? The readership has adopted that term over the years. It was the party, that was described as a mad tea-party...






Well, this is a nice development. A few topics on deck, and my latest Dover "image collection" comes in a bit ahead of the latest predictions.... so I find myself with the new material to give you a glimpse of, and a leg up on next entry. All good.

I will admit, that when Dover asked me about doing a collection of illustrations focusing on Lewis Carroll's Alice, though I knew there was a lot of good material to look over, I wasn't sure I'd find enough to keep me interested. It didn't take long before I realized that these few volumes full of over-the-top imaginative stories provide some outstanding material to interpret, and many of my illustration heroes had—well—gone down that hole.

The spark for this project was a chance meeting almost two years ago, with Mark Burstein—President of the Lewis Carroll Society of North America. Mark's knowledge of Carroll's work and the depth of his own collection made him a great partner for this volume. Not only did Mark provide a great introduction to the book, but he was able to guide us to some rare material, and lend us a few editions to work from that otherwise might have been unattainable. Kudos to you, sir.

In all there are images from 16 different illustrators of Carroll's works. From a selection of Sir John Tenniel's work in the original editions, to Arthur Rackham and a wide array of Golden Age art, and finishing up with some great wood engraving by contemporary artist/illustrator Barry Moser.

Shown here, top to bottom, A. E. Jackson, Charles Folkard, A wonderfully eerie ink piece by Charles Robinson, Gwynedd Hudson, (who also did the image chosen for the volumes cover, shown as well) and a wondrously different "ginger" Alice, by Mabel Lucie Attwell.

A Brandywine Moment

Some weeks ago I was tooling down I95 on the east coast, bringing my son to school in Baltimore after his Winter break. (I know! I can't believe I'm old enough to do that either!) Here was a golden opportunity to see one of the exhibits I've been waiting for, actually for years. The Howard Pyle show that marks a century since his passing. It was practically on our way, and I was not about to just pass by. I'd been making some noise about it, so everyone in the car knew we would be there for a bit.

The Delaware Art Museum in Wilmington, was founded in 1912 with the purpose of gathering and housing Pyle's work. It has become one of the premier museums in the country concerning Illustration, and they have a nice handle on Pre-Raphaelite works as well. I've seen a lot of Pyle's works over the years, and I'm familiar with a broad swath of his imagery— I was keen to see what might surprise me there.

Most of the important works are there, Attack on a Galleon, Marooned, and one on my favorites, The Flying Dutchman. I still can't get over the size of that piece, it's enormous, almost 6' tall! It's obvious that some pieces he did for love of painting, and some were assignments. Here's two that caught me off guard.

The first is a piece —the Angel—I used to close my Dover plate book on Pyle. Why seek Ye, the Living Among the Dead? is a real exercise in contrasts and value control. What surprised me was that the original, as photographed here, is so much lighter overall than the reproductions I've become familiar with. Another was this image in gray, or en grisaille, (Pyle and others painted this way sometimes to better suit works to be interpreted by engravers) from Hawthorne's Wonder Book (Stay tuned for more on that ...) The edition with the Pyle illustrations is quite scarce, and I hadn't had a chance to see these before. The light in the piece When All the World was Young was phenomenal, it absolutely glowed from across the gallery room. There is a homestead in the distance at the furthest visible point, very specific, I imagine it must be an actual location. Any ideas?

The show is at the Delaware Museum until March 4th, when it travels north to the Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, Mass., (where I will undoubtedly see it again) June 9th to October 28th. The book that accompanies the exhibit may be the best book on Pyle's work to date, I highly recommend it.

————

Lots to come in the next few weeks...including the new collection Alice Illustrated—back shortly.

New Pogány Book out from Dover

As promised...
When I started posting these entries back in February, my first comments were on a book that I have the highest regards for, as a book design, and as a collection of illustration—Willy Pogany's edition of Rime of the Ancient Mariner. It was nearby because I was in the midst of a large project to pull together some of Pogány's best illustration work. This week the book was just made available on Dover Publishing's website, and within a few days, it will be available elsewhere.

If you are not familiar with Pogány, (1882-1955) you are not alone. (Jim Vadeboncoeur's Pogany bio at Bud Plant is a good start) His most revered works are nearly a century old, and I am not aware of any serious attempt to reprint them, largely do to the complex methods originally used to achieve a wide variety of full color and partial color images. The cost of printing with these methods today would be astronomical. As I said months ago, if you can find a copy (in that rare-and-out-of print-bookstore) , ask to take a look at it. You will not go away without a new appreciation for Pogány.

What makes Pogány remarkable, is that whatever creative path he went down in his life-long career, he made it work. When British publishing was looking for the best new talents in book illustration, enter Willy Pogány. When art-deco was the look the public craved, he had no trouble simplifying and streamlining. When Hollywood became the next big means of visual storytelling, Pogány was there. Some will argue that his work feels more dated than that of his contemporaries, I think his work is more period. It reflects the taste of the era it was done in. It was Pogány's ability to change with the times that kept his career healthy his whole life.

Pogány did book work throughout his whole career, producing an amazing list of titles, and a unique portfolio of images. With this new title from Dover, I hope to bring him a bit of the respect I think he is due, and bring his vision to a generation of illustration fans that would have previously found it very difficult to obtain.

Top to bottom-
The title page of Tannhauser, 1911. Scanned and printed in 4-color process today, it was printed in 6 colors on a dark gray stock back in the day.

They instantly changed into snow-white birds, The Fairies and the Christmas Child, 1912. Makes me want to read the story....

Siegfried captures Ludegast, Myths and Legends of the Middle Ages, 1909. DIAGONALS.

Cadmus followed the Brindled Cow, from A Wonder Book and Tanglewood Tales, 1909. Great illustration of an ordinary thing...

On the hill-top stands one old Oak-tree.... The Tale of Lohengrin, 1913. What a tree!

------
Next week- another new release, over a year in the making....