Showing posts with label Media. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Media. Show all posts

Monday, November 30, 2020

The Versatile Philadelphian: Earl Horter

Earl Horter (1881-1940) was an illustrtor, art director, oil and watercolor painter, etcher and probably worked in other media as well.  He also was able to create a large eclectic, personal art collection that he was forced to gradually sell off during the Great Depression due to decreased income and the need to pay divorce settlement requirements (he married four times).

A quick Google search revealed little biographical information about him, though this site is fairly useful.

Besides working in many media, Horter used a variety of styles over the years, as can be seen in the images below.  So even though he was very competent, his work is not distinctly "his" due to all that variety.  That said, it should be noted that his subject matter was largely architectural or townscapes.  Almost no images featuring people could be found on the Internet.

Gallery

Packard poster from around 1914.   The setting is Paris' Avenue de l'OpĂ©ra constricted to suit the dimensions of the poster.

New York's Woolworth Building Under Construction, c. 1912.

Traymore Hotel, Atlantic City, c. 1915.


Two scenes of Toledo, Spain from about 1924.  Here we see a touch of Cubist influence.

Ditto for this Delaware River Scene.

Chrysler Building Under Construction - c.1931.

City scene, also a whiff of Cubism.

Gloucester, Massachusetts scene, 1932.  Here a touch of modernist simplification, common at the time.

The Old Barn, 1939. A conventional watercolor, but limited colors.

Still Life, also from 1939, but in a Cubist style.

Monday, July 9, 2012

Vanity Fair Does Jack Vettriano


I normally don't bother reading Vanity Fair magazine, but my wife does. Once in a while she'll call my attention to an article about a subject she thinks might interest me. So it seems that the July 2012 issue had a short piece about the Scottish painter Jack Vettriano. A link to the article is here. (I wrote about him most recently here.)

Here are two out-takes from the article:

* * * * *

In fact, Vettriano, anointed “the people’s painter” by the British press, is a man in full command of his fetishes, and he doesn’t mind sharing them with the world. He likes tough, voluptuous Ava Gardner-style brunettes: “Blondes,” he says, “have too much sweetness.” He favors earlobes and necks over the standard T&A. “I’ve painted maybe three or four breasts in my life,” he notes. He is morbidly fixated on lips and nails, lacquered a glossy blood red, and on eyelashes heavily coated with mascara. “I once tried applying it on a girl myself, but my hand was shaking—I got too excited.” Stilettos are required (he bid at auction on a pair of Marilyn Monroe’s), as are garters and some form of corsetry (as his Devotion and The Perfectionist make abundantly clear). “Every woman who knows me knows I will give them underwear for Christmas, and it won’t be conventional,” Vettriano advises. He has fixed ideas about stockings too; hosiery (as seen in Dancer for Money and countless other pictures) must be sheer black and fully fashioned with wide thigh tops, retro back seams, and reinforced heels.

* * *

At least Vettriano skeptics cannot accuse the prolific artist of sloth. “I like to look at a painting and see labor,” notes Vettriano, who usually works from photographs he himself has staged and shot. His virtuoso effects of moisture and light on flesh, sand, hair, and metal, which often recall the look of vintage Hollywood movie posters or pulp-fiction covers, are accomplished by dragging a small stiff brush through semi-dried, still-tacky pigments—a technique he modestly likens to blending makeup. Not surprisingly, Vettriano venerates the Ruskinian craftsmanship of midcentury American pinup master Gil Elvgren and, “dare I say, Norman Rockwell.” For Vettriano the idea that his easel paintings, which cost between $48,000 and $195,000, are more accurately classified as illustrations is meaningless. “I don’t make a distinction between painting and illustration, and we shouldn’t get hung up on arguing the difference.” He is more acerbically opinionated about the conceptual approaches of such acquisitions-committee darlings as Damien Hirst and Jeff Koons, both of whose hands-off methods he considers “morally corrupt.”

* * * * *

To bring readers unfamiliar with Vattriano up to speed, here are examples of his work.

Gallery

The Billy Boys

The Out of Towners

Games of Power

Yesterday's Dreams

Only the Deepest Red

A Valentine Rose

Angel

One Moment in Time

This analysis is going to be somewhat tricky to write and, in any case, should be regarded as preliminary. That's because (1) one reader of this blog who I greatly respect definitely does not like Vettriano's work, and (2) I've never seen a Vettriano painting in person -- only via images in prints, books and the Internet.

To begin, Vettriano's paintings are not subtle. They tend to have a simplified, poster-like appearance where strong colors are used. Most paintings have areas of flat, solid colors, though there are areas with modeling as well. Generally speaking, a Vettriano doesn't seem to have much in the way of painterly interest, so viewers who savor brushwork don't have much of it to work with.

On the other hand, I suspect that Vettriano's painting will have far better staying power than works by nearly all post-1960 modernists. That is because his images tell stories (or hint at stories, usually); he gets the "illustrator" rap for that aspect of his work. Yet most of the pre-1850 masters, when they weren't painting portraits and landscapes, were also illustrating stories of one sort or another. Furthermore, Vettriano's images have an odd, sometimes unsettling psychological aspect that viewers notice. This is a human connection absent from much contemporary painting. And I contend that connections to a painting via understandable human experiences and emotions are what will make it of interest to future generations. In-jokes, irony, allusions to early 21st century popular culture or politics and other staples of contemporary art lack the vital ingredients Vettriano puts into his works.

Friday, June 15, 2012

Are Newspapers Over-Designed?


Aside from buying a Wall Street Journal two or three days a week, flipping through a free USA Today from the hotel when traveling and barely glancing at the local paper each morning (until football season, when I hit the sports page harder), I spend a lot less time reading newspapers than I used to. Years ago, I was so into newspapers that I had the New York edition of the New York Times mailed to me daily.

Nowadays I mostly rely on the internet for news, avoiding television almost entirely. Obviously, I'm not alone in this. Newspaper circulation has been declining for many years in the USA, and so have ratings for the major broadcast network news programs.

Newspapers have been fighting the trend, but declining circulation has yielded declining advertising revenue. Fewer ads means smaller papers as publishers try to maintain a profitable advertising - news hole page relationship.

There's another thing newspapers are doing that has annoyed me for several years. I'm writing about it now thanks to this item on James Lileks' blog. Besides blogging, Lileks is a columnist at the Minneapolis Star-Tribune and writes books on the side.

Here is what he said:

* * * * *

I think a lot about newspapers every day, partly because I work for one, partly because I’m revising a novel set in the glory days of a medium-sized newspaper in a medium-sized metropolitan era that has four. Four papers. I invented one for the books, the Citizen-Herald; it’s obviously not the Star-Tribune, since that exists in the books as well. When I think what the pages of the Citizen-Herald might have looked like, I realize one of the things that did papers in:

Good design.

Or rather, design, period. Big headlines, explanatory decks, good pictures, careful layout, splashy graphics - everything that presents the content takes away from the content. If you have a thick news hole and you’re putting out a tab with 60 pages, chock full of ads, you have the luxury to play, to stretch, to impress. But the model for the Citizen-Herald is the old Star newspaper in the 30s and 40s, a wide-swinging scrappy trolley-reader broadsheet that captured the jostle and bustle of the town in almost molecular detail. Eight to ten stories on the front page, at least. Twice as much on the inside. Sure, half of it was inconsequential - chatter and trivia, minor mayhem on the road next to a squib about an election in Malay, but it presented the impression of a world so vibrant it could barely be contained in the thin columns of newsprint. A good newspaper isn’t one you read front to back; a good newspaper is one you regret you didn’t read front to back, because it’s simply impossible to read it all.

The Star was like that - the big stories at the top of the page, pictures of giveaway kittens or a kid in a cast because he fell off a roof, Loop shootings, auto wrecks on the parkway, holdup in a cafe, each story getting smaller as you went down the page, until the bottom items were a two-line piece on Siamese imports, and an ad for Sanitary Bread.

* * * * *

An example front page is below.


The design feature that bothers me the most is increased use of large, color photographs on the front page (the example above is smaller than many I've seen). To me, it's a waste of space that could be devoted to news.

Like Likeks, I am so old-fashioned!

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Incredible Shrinking Magazines


Time to add a few more points to the declining media curve.

Today's Sunday newspaper insert, Parade magazine, struck me as being a fragment of its former self. Years ago, if memory serves, its dimensions were someplace between those of a news magazine and a tabloid paper, edging in the direction of the former. I don't recall how many pages an issue typically boasted, but it had at least a little heft -- call it 36-48.

The latest Parade measures 9.5 inches high by nine inches wide when closed. The page count?: 16.

Meanwhile, over at a newsstand, I did something I almost never do any more: I examined Time and Newsweek. Their 23 August editions each had only 64 pages, which felt pretty thin. I grabbed three copies of 1955-56 Newsweek from my archive and their page counts ranged from 92 to 114. (Those issues had cover stories about cars. I'll probably get around to posting about what was written.)

I wonder why they bother to keep Parade alive when it contains so little in its page-deficient, small format. And if Newsweek was sold for $1 (yes, the buyer assumed debt), then what might Time be worth?