Showing posts with label art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label art. Show all posts
12/26/18
10/6/17
Rose's Fruit Squashes - Translating British.
Technically, Americans and The British speak the same language, but the dialects are miles apart. This is made plain by this 1952 ad for Rose's Fruit Squashes, which appeared in Picture Post (like LIFE magazine, but English). There's a lot to unpack in here, so let's translate some British to American.
Fruit Squashes - For one thing, there's the description of the product. Presumably, fruit "squash" is juice, right?
Good wicket - "Wicket" is a word that comprises about 75% of Cricket terminology (Cricket being the national sport of England, and massively popular throughout India, thanks to the propagation of the East India Company in the Nineteenth century.
Primarily, the "wicket" is the little assembly of wooden sticks that stand just behind the batsman. In effect, it serves as the strike zone in American baseball. The "bowler" has to knock down the wicket with the ball, while the batsman tries to hit the ball. The parts of the wicket are the three vertical "stumps" and the smaller "bails" that bridge across the tops of the stumps. It looks a little stonehengey.
Also, the pitch (field) upon which Cricket is played is called "the wicket".
Also also, "losing a wicket" refers to a batsman being dismissed by the bowler.
Shew! So, the ad having the title "Good wicket" might be interpreted as "nice play" or "nice hit".
"Bags I don't fetch the ball" - https://www.collinsdictionary.com/dictionary/english/bags
Good wicket - "Wicket" is a word that comprises about 75% of Cricket terminology (Cricket being the national sport of England, and massively popular throughout India, thanks to the propagation of the East India Company in the Nineteenth century.
Primarily, the "wicket" is the little assembly of wooden sticks that stand just behind the batsman. In effect, it serves as the strike zone in American baseball. The "bowler" has to knock down the wicket with the ball, while the batsman tries to hit the ball. The parts of the wicket are the three vertical "stumps" and the smaller "bails" that bridge across the tops of the stumps. It looks a little stonehengey.
Also, the pitch (field) upon which Cricket is played is called "the wicket".
Also also, "losing a wicket" refers to a batsman being dismissed by the bowler.
Shew! So, the ad having the title "Good wicket" might be interpreted as "nice play" or "nice hit".
"Bags I don't fetch the ball" - https://www.collinsdictionary.com/dictionary/english/bags
bags: children's slang , British and Australian
an indication of the desire to do, be, or have something
So, obliquely, the boy really doesn't want to go next door and get the ball... I think, since "Bags I don't fetch the ball" seems to imply he really wants to not get the ball. Something scary is next door.
"That man next door's got a long red beard and a black hat. Looks like an ogre." "No, idiot, he's a famaous artist. He draws pictures of ladies with one eye and three legs." - From the description of the artist's work, they should be describing Picasso. He did stay at a farmhouse in Sussex in 1950, which at the time was the home of his painter friend Roland Penrose.
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| Self-Portrait with Uncombed Hair, by Pablo Picasso. |
However, the part about the red beard and black hat sounds exactly like Vincent Van Gogh (which, for some reason, is pronounced "Van Goth" by every British person). A quick Google search shows that Picasso had brown-to-black hair. He wasn't a ginger.
Van Gogh. Red beard. Check. Long? Meh, not really. Black hat? I'm sure he had a black hat somewhere. Most people do.
However, the description of the painting style ("ladies with one eye and three legs"), sounds like Picasso. Van Gogh's style was a little more traditional than Picasso's.
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| Portraits by Van Gogh. |
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| Portrait of Woman, by Pablo Picasso. |
So, the question of which artist is the scary dude next door is a bit confused. Safe to say that traditional English society wasn't sure what to make of "the new painting style", which, at the time, had only been around for about a hundred years. They could be forgiven for confusing one scary painter for the other.
"Soppy, I call it." - http://dictionary.cambridge.org/us/dictionary/english/soppy Being overly emotional or sentimental. No surprise that a couple of kids would see any painting of a lady as "soppy".
"It's a cert." - http://dictionary.cambridge.org/us/dictionary/english/cert UK, informal. "Certain" or "certainly". Duh.
"But if he shows you his pictures, just say 'very interesting', like father does". - Oh, hah hah hah hah. Conservative English culture was freaked out by modernist painters. If only they had something more important to think about at the time, like finishing the rebuilding of London.
"Soppy, I call it." - http://dictionary.cambridge.org/us/dictionary/english/soppy Being overly emotional or sentimental. No surprise that a couple of kids would see any painting of a lady as "soppy".
"It's a cert." - http://dictionary.cambridge.org/us/dictionary/english/cert UK, informal. "Certain" or "certainly". Duh.
"But if he shows you his pictures, just say 'very interesting', like father does". - Oh, hah hah hah hah. Conservative English culture was freaked out by modernist painters. If only they had something more important to think about at the time, like finishing the rebuilding of London.
8/24/16
Tor Concrete Incinerators - The sweet smell of success.
Way back in Yore, and the days of it, society had a happy-go-lucky, it'll-sort-itself-out attitude toward pretty much everything. In order to find a period in history that was more deeply in denial, you'd probably have to go back to the Victorians, whose outward prudishness and conservatism was matched only by their depravity and their freaky-deakyness.
In 1963, lots of people had incinerators in their back yard, for burning leaves (okay, kinda bad), and for burning garbage (yikes).
YOU (Who? Me?) can cash in on a virtually untapped market with these almost universally needed "lifetime" concrete incinerators!
Yep. It used to be a common thing for people to have their own little Barad-dûr in their back yard that would spew stinking smoke into the neighborhood of a bright summer's morn. People would burn whatever they want in them. Leaves, sticks, rotten food, old televisions, newspapers, worn-out pets. But hey, it was The Sixties. Something that went up in smoke was real gone, baby. Like, gone forever and nothing to worry about gone. What was the big deal? It's just one of a rich tapestry of things that we were kidding ourselves about at the time.
My grandma had an incinerator in her back yard. It was always just a curiosity to me. She never used it, so it was just this derelict monolith from a mysterious bygone age. My brothers and I would just sprinkle leaves into it through the rusty grate on top, because we didn't have video games yet. Once you watched the leaves hit the bottom, the show was pretty much over. Time to round up some more leaves! We really needed someone to invent video games.
We're much more "eco" and stuff now. We don't have incinerators any more because they're gross and bad for pretty much everybody. Now we have "fire pits". They're like a really big wok on little legs that you drag out of the garage when company is coming over. Sure, people (probably) don't burn garbage in them, but it's surprising that these are legal. I suppose the fires, when you consider the big picture, are pretty small and inconsequential.
Side note: Somebody needs to make a backyard fire pit that looks like a lidless, staring eye. I would find excuses to invite my friends over for a singalong around the fire if I had a Sauron fire pit in my back yard.
Yes, we're so eco now that people aren't allowed to get rid of certain things but once or twice a year. When we were clearing out my dad's basement, there were loads of cans of paint and varnish and stuff like that. Some of it was still good, and now sits in my garage on the Shelf Of Things That Are Useful But Are Probably Making Me Dumber By Permanently Damaging My Brain Every Time I Open The Can. Why, just last weekend, I used some of my dad's lacquer thinner to remove the sticker residue from a new lug wrench. "Fanks, dad! Dat racqer finner weally came in hrandy buh gruh wuh wuhwuh...."
Anyway, so there I was, stuck with a car's trunkload of what officially qualifies as "hazardous waste". Being all enlightened and responsible, I went onto my town's website to see what Enlightened and Responsible steps I should take to get rid of the stuff properly. My town collects stuff like this on a very special day that comes in the spring time. It was July. Great. Alternately, I could drive it several towns over and drop it off at a recycling center that wouldn't mind taking it off my hands. Fine.
So, load crap into car trunk. Drive an hour to the address using GPS. Drive up and down the road for fifteen minutes in the industrial park I found myself in, eventually pulling in to the parking lot that was at the exact address and street name as described on the website. It was a warehouse-looking place with forklifts and a couple of guys standing around at the loading door. Get out and ask them if this is the place. Guys look at each other and tell me they never heard of the place, and that they're sorry. Fuck. This.
So, after wasting three hours of a perfectly good Saturday morning trying to do The Right Thing, I wound up back in my garage, with a trunk full of original sin, having been screwed over by standard municipal buffoonery. That's what I get for trying to do the right thing.
So, apparently, every house needs to have a closet-sized corner of their garage piled high with old electronics and cans of semi-dried up paint, waiting for the one day a year when they can get rid of it. This is not a proper solution. Until cities make it practical andeasy possible to get rid of evil stuff, I'll keep distributing cans of used paint to neighborhood children, which are roughly hobbit-sized, telling them to run off and cast them into the fires of Mount Doom. Kids are spoiled anyway, and they need quests. So, I'm helping.
Here's a couple of clip arts for your ever-growing stash of stupid images, courtesy of us. First, there's the awkward-viewing-angle pointing finger. You know, sometimes, people ask you to draw a a hand pointing right at the viewer, and fingers never look right when drawn foreshortened. As you can see, this hand has the index finger bending slightly downward, and it looks - you guessed it - weird. Enjoy!
You should always avoid trying to use the pointing-to-you finger as a graphical element. The only place it was ever gotten right was Uncle Sam. Hmm. That gives me an idea...
Now that even makes me laugh, and I'm a horrible person.
The other Graphic Gift is the elegant incinerator lady looking graceful and balletic as she dumps out her trash can. She makes it look fun and easy to burn filth in your own back yard. What's she dumping? Only you and Photoshop can decide! She's a PNG with an alpha channel background, and you're welcome!
In 1963, lots of people had incinerators in their back yard, for burning leaves (okay, kinda bad), and for burning garbage (yikes).
Yep. It used to be a common thing for people to have their own little Barad-dûr in their back yard that would spew stinking smoke into the neighborhood of a bright summer's morn. People would burn whatever they want in them. Leaves, sticks, rotten food, old televisions, newspapers, worn-out pets. But hey, it was The Sixties. Something that went up in smoke was real gone, baby. Like, gone forever and nothing to worry about gone. What was the big deal? It's just one of a rich tapestry of things that we were kidding ourselves about at the time.
 |
| Great. The neighbors are getting rid of their used diapers. Cancel the block party. |
We're much more "eco" and stuff now. We don't have incinerators any more because they're gross and bad for pretty much everybody. Now we have "fire pits". They're like a really big wok on little legs that you drag out of the garage when company is coming over. Sure, people (probably) don't burn garbage in them, but it's surprising that these are legal. I suppose the fires, when you consider the big picture, are pretty small and inconsequential.
Side note: Somebody needs to make a backyard fire pit that looks like a lidless, staring eye. I would find excuses to invite my friends over for a singalong around the fire if I had a Sauron fire pit in my back yard.
Yes, we're so eco now that people aren't allowed to get rid of certain things but once or twice a year. When we were clearing out my dad's basement, there were loads of cans of paint and varnish and stuff like that. Some of it was still good, and now sits in my garage on the Shelf Of Things That Are Useful But Are Probably Making Me Dumber By Permanently Damaging My Brain Every Time I Open The Can. Why, just last weekend, I used some of my dad's lacquer thinner to remove the sticker residue from a new lug wrench. "Fanks, dad! Dat racqer finner weally came in hrandy buh gruh wuh wuhwuh...."
Anyway, so there I was, stuck with a car's trunkload of what officially qualifies as "hazardous waste". Being all enlightened and responsible, I went onto my town's website to see what Enlightened and Responsible steps I should take to get rid of the stuff properly. My town collects stuff like this on a very special day that comes in the spring time. It was July. Great. Alternately, I could drive it several towns over and drop it off at a recycling center that wouldn't mind taking it off my hands. Fine.
So, load crap into car trunk. Drive an hour to the address using GPS. Drive up and down the road for fifteen minutes in the industrial park I found myself in, eventually pulling in to the parking lot that was at the exact address and street name as described on the website. It was a warehouse-looking place with forklifts and a couple of guys standing around at the loading door. Get out and ask them if this is the place. Guys look at each other and tell me they never heard of the place, and that they're sorry. Fuck. This.
So, after wasting three hours of a perfectly good Saturday morning trying to do The Right Thing, I wound up back in my garage, with a trunk full of original sin, having been screwed over by standard municipal buffoonery. That's what I get for trying to do the right thing.
So, apparently, every house needs to have a closet-sized corner of their garage piled high with old electronics and cans of semi-dried up paint, waiting for the one day a year when they can get rid of it. This is not a proper solution. Until cities make it practical and
Here's a couple of clip arts for your ever-growing stash of stupid images, courtesy of us. First, there's the awkward-viewing-angle pointing finger. You know, sometimes, people ask you to draw a a hand pointing right at the viewer, and fingers never look right when drawn foreshortened. As you can see, this hand has the index finger bending slightly downward, and it looks - you guessed it - weird. Enjoy!
You should always avoid trying to use the pointing-to-you finger as a graphical element. The only place it was ever gotten right was Uncle Sam. Hmm. That gives me an idea...
Now that even makes me laugh, and I'm a horrible person.
The other Graphic Gift is the elegant incinerator lady looking graceful and balletic as she dumps out her trash can. She makes it look fun and easy to burn filth in your own back yard. What's she dumping? Only you and Photoshop can decide! She's a PNG with an alpha channel background, and you're welcome!
1/8/16
Mercury Colony Park - You got to let thirds rule.
A bright-eyed intern from the Magazine Search Pool dropped this 1964 ad on my desk this morning. That kid's going to go places. Why? Because she immediately spotted the near-perfect layout of this ad. Check it out.
Man, look at that. A nice composition is like classical music for your eyes. You can feel it making you smarter. But maybe you're not seeing the magic? Let's help you out a bit.
Faced with yet another product shot of their car, the art director could have phoned it in. They could have gone with some kind of perspective thing, where they drop the car in a field or something and shoot it from the corner, to show you how big the car is. But when you read the copy, you can tell that Mercury was kind of proud of the design of the car.
The beauty of a fake wood paneled station wagon is debatable, but in any case, they looked at the rectangular, slab-sided profile of their car and lined up the camera directly at the profile. Then, they put the car in front of a building that echoes the wooden linearity. The net effect of this decision flattens the car and the building into simple graphic shapes that - if handled well - can form a bold and clear composition that catches the eye.
If you look at the roof of the car in relation to the overall length, you can see the roof line is about two thirds of the car's length. You can divide the car's length into threes, and the roof takes up two of them. Then, notice that the belt line of the car falls about two thirds of the way from the ground to the roof. This all recalls the "rule of thirds": an old and ubiquitous tool that artists and photographers use to arrange pleasing compositions. Your camera probably has a rule of thirds overlay in the LCD screen. Your phone's camera app probably has one too, if you find it and enable the option.
Essentially, the rule of thirds is this: if you drop a three by three grid over your image and try to place points of interest along the lines, or the intersections of those lines, you're most of the way to having a really nice composition. The easiest way to make the leap from just taking pictures to creating a little piece of art is to start paying attention to the rule of thirds. Same for traditional art, too. In a nutshell, putting the focal point right in the center of the frame is really boring. It's what a six year old would do. Asymmetry is more interesting to your eye. Don't believe me? Go look at some stuff and come back in an hour.
So, the form of the car itself adhere to the rule of thirds. That's a nice start. Now, back to the whole photo. Let's put a three by three grid over the ad.
Well, look at that. The Colony Park is centered on a line one third of the height of the frame. This is not an accident.
The other details of the photo add interest too, like the lady and the stuff in the window.No, the window is not one third the width of the photo, but that's okay. The other elements in the image don't all need to slavishly adhere to the rule of thirds in their arrangement. To do that would be a little obsessive, and missing the point a bit. The ROT is just a near-perfect tool to place the major focal points of your image in a position that's far more interesting than just dead center.
The rest of the ad is similarly simple and beautiful. The pavement is just a big black rectangle, with the pavement's texture nearly eliminated. That way, the visual relationship between the wood in the building and the car is clearer. Here's another handy rule for pretty much art of any kind. "If it's not needed, remove it." The pavement texture wouldn't be helping, so out it can go.
With regard to color, the photo basically consists of four colors: red, brown, white, and black. Again, simple and controlled.
I like the two-box shape of wagons and hatchbacks, but lots of people don't. Overall, the deft application of artsy-fartsy skill on display in this ad does a pretty amazing job of making the much-maligned station wagon seem sophisticated and elegant, which can't be that easy. Very impressive, Art Director.
That's a pretty cool looking building. I wonder where it is. The ad is considerate enough to use the address as a design element, and it's easy to read. 17600 Northland Park Court. That's a pretty uncommon name for a street. How many of those can there be?
Okay, it looks like there's a 17600 Northland Park Court in Southfield, Michigan. Could this be the place? Michigan makes sense, as it was still the center of American car production back in '64, and the art director may want to stay close to the office for the shoot. Let's assemble a Street View away team and beam down to have a look around.
Well I'll be darned. There it is, wood and all. The parking lot has been grassed over, but there's the shot right there, untouched... at least, as recently as 2012. Holy crap.
This whole area looks pretty much un-demolished since it was built in The Sixties. Across the street and one or two doors down, there's another cool building with a crazy uppey-downey roof that no one would build today. See?
Looks like there's lots of cool stuff to see in Southfield. Who's up for a road trip? We'll need to load up the station wagon...
Faced with yet another product shot of their car, the art director could have phoned it in. They could have gone with some kind of perspective thing, where they drop the car in a field or something and shoot it from the corner, to show you how big the car is. But when you read the copy, you can tell that Mercury was kind of proud of the design of the car.
The beauty of a fake wood paneled station wagon is debatable, but in any case, they looked at the rectangular, slab-sided profile of their car and lined up the camera directly at the profile. Then, they put the car in front of a building that echoes the wooden linearity. The net effect of this decision flattens the car and the building into simple graphic shapes that - if handled well - can form a bold and clear composition that catches the eye.
If you look at the roof of the car in relation to the overall length, you can see the roof line is about two thirds of the car's length. You can divide the car's length into threes, and the roof takes up two of them. Then, notice that the belt line of the car falls about two thirds of the way from the ground to the roof. This all recalls the "rule of thirds": an old and ubiquitous tool that artists and photographers use to arrange pleasing compositions. Your camera probably has a rule of thirds overlay in the LCD screen. Your phone's camera app probably has one too, if you find it and enable the option.
Essentially, the rule of thirds is this: if you drop a three by three grid over your image and try to place points of interest along the lines, or the intersections of those lines, you're most of the way to having a really nice composition. The easiest way to make the leap from just taking pictures to creating a little piece of art is to start paying attention to the rule of thirds. Same for traditional art, too. In a nutshell, putting the focal point right in the center of the frame is really boring. It's what a six year old would do. Asymmetry is more interesting to your eye. Don't believe me? Go look at some stuff and come back in an hour.
So, the form of the car itself adhere to the rule of thirds. That's a nice start. Now, back to the whole photo. Let's put a three by three grid over the ad.
The other details of the photo add interest too, like the lady and the stuff in the window.No, the window is not one third the width of the photo, but that's okay. The other elements in the image don't all need to slavishly adhere to the rule of thirds in their arrangement. To do that would be a little obsessive, and missing the point a bit. The ROT is just a near-perfect tool to place the major focal points of your image in a position that's far more interesting than just dead center.
The rest of the ad is similarly simple and beautiful. The pavement is just a big black rectangle, with the pavement's texture nearly eliminated. That way, the visual relationship between the wood in the building and the car is clearer. Here's another handy rule for pretty much art of any kind. "If it's not needed, remove it." The pavement texture wouldn't be helping, so out it can go.
With regard to color, the photo basically consists of four colors: red, brown, white, and black. Again, simple and controlled.
I like the two-box shape of wagons and hatchbacks, but lots of people don't. Overall, the deft application of artsy-fartsy skill on display in this ad does a pretty amazing job of making the much-maligned station wagon seem sophisticated and elegant, which can't be that easy. Very impressive, Art Director.
That's a pretty cool looking building. I wonder where it is. The ad is considerate enough to use the address as a design element, and it's easy to read. 17600 Northland Park Court. That's a pretty uncommon name for a street. How many of those can there be?
Well I'll be darned. There it is, wood and all. The parking lot has been grassed over, but there's the shot right there, untouched... at least, as recently as 2012. Holy crap.
This whole area looks pretty much un-demolished since it was built in The Sixties. Across the street and one or two doors down, there's another cool building with a crazy uppey-downey roof that no one would build today. See?
Looks like there's lots of cool stuff to see in Southfield. Who's up for a road trip? We'll need to load up the station wagon...
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| Click for big. |
12/7/15
Paperback Book Cover - When the Green Star Calls.
Today, we feature another great paperback book cover. It's a 1973 novel by Lin Carter called When the Green Star Calls. The cover art is by Luis Dominguez, and I have to say I like Dominguez' paintings more than his drawings. Nuff Said.
What's that? You say you'd like a special crop of this image with the text removed. Here, let the P.A.G! Graphic Blandishment and Photoshoppery Brigade get that for you. The original version is included too, at maximum-blogger-allowable 1600px height. You're welcome!
This is the book two in Carter's Green Star series. I don't know the series myself, but I know how to search Wikipedia. Here's a link to that article, if you're interested.
Based on my total lack of research on what the story is about, I can tell you that it involves a lucky young man being whisked away on a romantic date with a guy with a teapot on his head, in a golden hoverswan, soaring over the triceratops-infested swaps surrounding an alien dildopolis. Oh, such a time they'll have!
What's that? You say you'd like a special crop of this image with the text removed. Here, let the P.A.G! Graphic Blandishment and Photoshoppery Brigade get that for you. The original version is included too, at maximum-blogger-allowable 1600px height. You're welcome!
12/1/15
Borden's Promotional Cow Family Christmas plans.
It's been a while since we've checked in with Elmer and Elsie and the hideous Borden cow family. For those with morbid curiosity, use links like this one, this one, this one, or this one to make yourself lactose intolerant.
Today's ad allows us a lucky glimpse into the domestic squabbles of this family of unforgivable human-cow half breeds. They're arguing about how to save money on Christmas shopping. What ever shall they do? Urgently continue reading to find out!
First, we are given to wonder why a family of monstrosities like this are having financial troubles. Elmer claims to be the one that pays the bills in the family. Assuming he works for the Borden company, he must somehow sell his milk to the dairy. In the very same breath, the ad points out that he's a bull, and thereby incapable of producing milk. Soooo, let's just hope that not only has he been unnaturally cross bred with a human, but that he also has been genetically manipulated to have mammary glands. Yes, we will hope for that. The alternative possibility is even more horrible.
Gender-bending is the least of the Borden family's biological feats. Each family member has a weird neck wiener that the artist was very careful not to overlook, when drawing the comic. They must be important. This revelation raises more questions than it answers, but let's let sleeping wieners lie, shall we?
So, Elmer's upset about finances. This tension is nearly immediately defused by Elsie's Christmas gift-giving plan. She will make all the gifts! "How?", you ask? "Godammit, HOW?" Why, she'll make delicious things to eat with her own bodily fluids and give them to their friends! What would you do?
You're darn right. You would call everybody and tell them to skip the eggnog this year, because you are going to spend Christmas morning driving to everyone's house to give them nog made with juices squirted out of your body.
The ad goes on to give even more helpful Christmas hints. For example, here's a family portrait of ice cream... we hope.
Then there's the very extravagant party idea of serving specially aged Gruyere cheese. Imagine their faces when you point out that the delicious cheese was made from your own fluids and loving aged for a year.
Junior's helping, too! He's wrapping a gift for daddy. It's a festive holiday brick! Let's hope it's just a normal brick, and not one made from his own excretions... although his family's frugal habits tend to imply which way the wind is blowing on that little dilemma.
Near the bottom of the page, Elsie reveals that she and Elmer have a promotional record! This I gotta hear. However, the P.A.G! Research and Googling team was disappointed by The Ultranet. There seems to be no copy of that recording anywhere for us to hear. We'll have to make due with this weird TV commercial instead. The Ultranet owes us an apology, I think.
Today's ad allows us a lucky glimpse into the domestic squabbles of this family of unforgivable human-cow half breeds. They're arguing about how to save money on Christmas shopping. What ever shall they do? Urgently continue reading to find out!
Gender-bending is the least of the Borden family's biological feats. Each family member has a weird neck wiener that the artist was very careful not to overlook, when drawing the comic. They must be important. This revelation raises more questions than it answers, but let's let sleeping wieners lie, shall we?
So, Elmer's upset about finances. This tension is nearly immediately defused by Elsie's Christmas gift-giving plan. She will make all the gifts! "How?", you ask? "Godammit, HOW?" Why, she'll make delicious things to eat with her own bodily fluids and give them to their friends! What would you do?
You're darn right. You would call everybody and tell them to skip the eggnog this year, because you are going to spend Christmas morning driving to everyone's house to give them nog made with juices squirted out of your body.
The ad goes on to give even more helpful Christmas hints. For example, here's a family portrait of ice cream... we hope.
Then there's the very extravagant party idea of serving specially aged Gruyere cheese. Imagine their faces when you point out that the delicious cheese was made from your own fluids and loving aged for a year.
Junior's helping, too! He's wrapping a gift for daddy. It's a festive holiday brick! Let's hope it's just a normal brick, and not one made from his own excretions... although his family's frugal habits tend to imply which way the wind is blowing on that little dilemma.
Near the bottom of the page, Elsie reveals that she and Elmer have a promotional record! This I gotta hear. However, the P.A.G! Research and Googling team was disappointed by The Ultranet. There seems to be no copy of that recording anywhere for us to hear. We'll have to make due with this weird TV commercial instead. The Ultranet owes us an apology, I think.
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| Click for big. |
11/24/15
Esquire 1959 - Letter form Christmas Village
In the December 1959 issue of Esquire Magazine, Joseph Wechsberg wrote an article describing the cool Christmas traditions of an ancient region of Austria. Freaky costumes and a night time parade made their holiday celebration more like Halloween - and therefore, better - than it is today.
The illustrations look like Maurice Sendak drew them, but the signature is a real puzzle. If any of you can help make out the name, everyone here at GO! Tower would be grateful.
UPDTAE: Alert reader MisterFancyArtPants_2 found out the artist's name! Thanks MFAP!
Anyway, here is the full article, complete with brilliant illustrations. Please forgive the problems on one or two pages, caused by the stubborn binding and the difficulties of pressing it down on the scanner and scanning it in two halves.
Also, because this was 1959, the author dismisses the beliefs of the participants as "Medieval mysticism", which is pretty much how people label something when someone else's mythology doesn't line up exactly with your own favorite mythology. Anyway, these illustrations would be perfect for this year's Phil Are GO! Pointy Tree Day Gift Tags. We didn't do them last year for some reason, but this year, it's on like Tron. Stay tuned.
You'll have to click each image to open it in a new window at readable size.
The illustrations look like Maurice Sendak drew them, but the signature is a real puzzle. If any of you can help make out the name, everyone here at GO! Tower would be grateful.
UPDTAE: Alert reader MisterFancyArtPants_2 found out the artist's name! Thanks MFAP!
N.M. Bodecker 1922-1988 (the “N.M.” stands for Niels Mogens, though when asked he would say it stood for “Nothing Much” or “Never Mind”) was born, raised and educated in Copenhagen. He emigrated to the United States after World War II, where for many years his illustrations appeared in Harper’s Magazine, The Saturday Evening Post, Esquire and Holiday.
Also, because this was 1959, the author dismisses the beliefs of the participants as "Medieval mysticism", which is pretty much how people label something when someone else's mythology doesn't line up exactly with your own favorite mythology. Anyway, these illustrations would be perfect for this year's Phil Are GO! Pointy Tree Day Gift Tags. We didn't do them last year for some reason, but this year, it's on like Tron. Stay tuned.
You'll have to click each image to open it in a new window at readable size.
11/17/15
Vintage Paperback - C.S. Lewis - Out of the Silent Planet
The Phil Are GO! Antique Store and Garage Sale Assualt Force saw this really old paperback recently, so they seized it for your pleasure. Aren't they nice?
Out of the Silent Planet was originally published in 1938, but this paperback is from 1965... as if you couldn't tell from the terrific cover art. That cover art is what brought it home with the ASGSAF. Look at those cool space balls and those pointy space beams and that crazy "jughead's hat" triangle stripe around the ship.
This is not a review of the book. I haven't read it, but I will eventually. Or, at least I'll try to read it. C.S. Lewis is famously Christian, and his books are often thinly veiled attempts at evangelism. I've heard stories that this eventually was the cause of a parting of the ways between Lewis and his long-time friend J.R.R. Tolkien, who believed that a story should just be a story, and shouldn't have an ulterior motive. Tolkien's philosophy is one that I find agreeable. Anyway, I'll give it a try.
Here's some of the Lewis/Tolkien story, as found on atheism.about.com:
Right on, J.R.
This post's only purpose is to get a high res (at least as high res as Blogger allows, which is 1600px tall) image of this cover art into your hands, stat!
Here's a crop of just the painting, with some light color adjustment. Enjoy!
Out of the Silent Planet was originally published in 1938, but this paperback is from 1965... as if you couldn't tell from the terrific cover art. That cover art is what brought it home with the ASGSAF. Look at those cool space balls and those pointy space beams and that crazy "jughead's hat" triangle stripe around the ship.
This is not a review of the book. I haven't read it, but I will eventually. Or, at least I'll try to read it. C.S. Lewis is famously Christian, and his books are often thinly veiled attempts at evangelism. I've heard stories that this eventually was the cause of a parting of the ways between Lewis and his long-time friend J.R.R. Tolkien, who believed that a story should just be a story, and shouldn't have an ulterior motive. Tolkien's philosophy is one that I find agreeable. Anyway, I'll give it a try.
Here's some of the Lewis/Tolkien story, as found on atheism.about.com:
Although Lewis was very proud of his first Narnia book, The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, and it would spawn a massively successful series of children's books, Tolkien didn't think very highly of it. First, he thought that the Christian themes and messages were far too strong - he didn't approve of the way Lewis seemed to beat the reader over the head with such obvious symbols.
There was certainly no missing the fact that Aslan, a lion, was a symbol for Christ who sacrificed his life and was resurrected for a final battle against evil. Tolkien's own books are deeply imbued with Christian themes, but he worked hard to bury them deeply so that they would enhance rather than detract from the stories.
Furthermore, Tolkien thought that there were too many conflicting elements that ultimately clashed, detracting from the whole. There were talking animals, children, witches, and more. Thus, in addition to being pushy, the book was overloaded with elements that threatened to confuse and overwhelm the children for whom it was designed.
Right on, J.R.
This post's only purpose is to get a high res (at least as high res as Blogger allows, which is 1600px tall) image of this cover art into your hands, stat!
Here's a crop of just the painting, with some light color adjustment. Enjoy!
11/3/15
Air-Wick - Classin' up the joint.
One of our wee little interns dropped this ad on my desk this morning, adorably wondering if the illustration could be of interest. She had no idea it was a stylistic dead ringer for something from my childhood, and is of massive interest. Good thing I maintained a solid poker face. You can't let these kids get a big head. Gotta keep 'em hungry. "I'll have a look at it." I grumbled, and waved her away.
Check it out! This uncredited 1957 drawing, without any clues or tipoffs to otherwise give context, could not look more The Late Fifties, which were a great sweet spot for commercial illustration.
Notice there are no outlines on any of the forms. Line work is all internal, with just blocks of color to describe the silhouettes of objects. Super cool. This is counter-intuitive by and large. What's a line for, if not to show the edge of a shape? Not in The Late Fifties. Lines are for wrinkles in clothes, and hair and stuff, but not edges. This, combined with the wiggly, clearly-hand-drawn look of the line work, keeps the illustration feeling really loose and fun. That's good whimsy, baby!
In trying to make the people in the illustration seem elegant and sophisticated, the artist gave them all rigid postures and really long necks. The lady in the middle with the white dress looks like Homestar Runner's broom-shaped girlfriend, Marzipan.
This drawing rings a bell - both in the subject matter, and in the art style. If you're like me, you are over a hundred years old, and your family had some board games that were purchased before you were born. We had an early edition of Clue (or "Cluedo", if you're in Europe, because you're frikkin weird), which I have deduced was from 1963. It looked like this:
Here's the game board from the 1963 Clue (or "Cluedo"if you're in Europe, where "Cluedo" is actually a portmanteau of "Clue" and "Ludo", which is Latin for "I play", because Europeans have more education than us Americans, who would never grasp the Latin reference in a bazillion years).
This is a pretty good match for our Air-Wick illustration, but if we go back a little earlier to the 1957 edition of the Clue box, we see this glorious little picture. It could not be found in a larger size, sadly.
There we go. There's our match. This was not the version we had in our house during my kidhood, so I don't know why I remember it - probably because the art style was pretty close on the '63 version and I got a lucky match when I glanced at an even older game box.
Good job, Eager Young Intern. You've got a bright future here at GO! Tower... but no way am I telling you that.
Notice there are no outlines on any of the forms. Line work is all internal, with just blocks of color to describe the silhouettes of objects. Super cool. This is counter-intuitive by and large. What's a line for, if not to show the edge of a shape? Not in The Late Fifties. Lines are for wrinkles in clothes, and hair and stuff, but not edges. This, combined with the wiggly, clearly-hand-drawn look of the line work, keeps the illustration feeling really loose and fun. That's good whimsy, baby!
This drawing rings a bell - both in the subject matter, and in the art style. If you're like me, you are over a hundred years old, and your family had some board games that were purchased before you were born. We had an early edition of Clue (or "Cluedo", if you're in Europe, because you're frikkin weird), which I have deduced was from 1963. It looked like this:
Here's the game board from the 1963 Clue (or "Cluedo"if you're in Europe, where "Cluedo" is actually a portmanteau of "Clue" and "Ludo", which is Latin for "I play", because Europeans have more education than us Americans, who would never grasp the Latin reference in a bazillion years).
This is a pretty good match for our Air-Wick illustration, but if we go back a little earlier to the 1957 edition of the Clue box, we see this glorious little picture. It could not be found in a larger size, sadly.
There we go. There's our match. This was not the version we had in our house during my kidhood, so I don't know why I remember it - probably because the art style was pretty close on the '63 version and I got a lucky match when I glanced at an even older game box.
Good job, Eager Young Intern. You've got a bright future here at GO! Tower... but no way am I telling you that.
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