BARBELITH underground
 

Subcultural engagement for the 21st Century...
Barbelith is a new kind of community (find out more)...
You can login or register.


The rolling "Oh, wow, I've just discovered (such-and-such artist)!!11" thread. (er, PICS, almost certainly)

 
 
Bed Head
22:45 / 18.06.06
Yes! Rolling thread for uncovering obscure or forgotten artists, and shining a spotlight on them, and/or revelling in the THRILL of discovery, or something. New artist whenever someone finds one. Sound good?

Damn right I’m going first. Because I’ve been reading this little book of short stories, The Freaks Of Mayfair, by EF Benson - it’s great so far, ta - and it’s illustrated throughout by a chap called George Plank. They’re the rather fantabulous original illustrations from 1916, very Aubrey Beardsley, and I’m oohing and ahhing at how well they fit the stories. Have a look at a couple:

"The Grizzly Kittens”
Image Hosted by ImageShack.us

”The Climbers”
Image Hosted by ImageShack.us

“Aunt Georgie”
Image Hosted by ImageShack.us


So, then I google George’s name and discover he was a long-standing illustrator for Vogue magazine. That once upon a time, yr standard Vogue cover was an illustration rather than a photograph, and that this George Plank was responsible for cover after cover after cover of quite astonishing jazz-age Vogue loveliness.

I’ll just link you up to a gallery, shall I? Mix yrself a highball and brace yourselves.


...Aren’t they too wonderful? Like I say, Beardsley, but with 20 more years of life, without the whole frantic, furtive adolescent vibe, and in full, vivid, reeeeaaally lush colours. It’s super-weird to suddenly find this stuff - I’ve always assumed Beardsley was, well, certainly stylish and fab, but also a kinda dead end, an artistic cul-de-sac. Not that that makes any sense, but I think I just hadn't realised that anyone then went on and took his influence into any sort of proper mainstream success. But here’s someone who was building on all that fin-de-siecle stuff, and merrily taking that line - that ‘underwater’-ish Beardsley line, where limbs and hair and fabric are all sort of floating there in the frame rather than having been caught snapshot-style - well into the next century, and moving in fashionable artistic circles and having a good time. Which makes me happy, because poor Aubrey Beardsley's end was so miserable, and I like the idea of his art going somewhere and then ending up the toast of Society after all.


But, having said all that, that’s about it for George Plank. This site gives all sorts of tantalising biographical details and promises that Plank’s ‘papers’ have been collected and filed away somewhere, including copies of his own magazine and his stage designs and an unpublished set of illustrations for Shakespeare’s sonnets, and all sorts of things like that. But as far as I can see, there’s been no book about his work, there’s been no revival, no exhibition and accompanying exhibition catalogue, and there doesn’t seem to be any proper biography, either, despite his having been a proper scenester who knew everyone who was everyone in 1920s/30s Britain. And so I don’t think there’s any way to actually get reproductions of his stuff, other than by buying a super-expensive print from Conde-Nast, (and god help me for entertaining thoughts of how much food I’d have to skip for how long in order to buy however many of these prints).


So. Does anyone know any more/can anyone dig anything up better than I can? My search-fu is rather rubbish, and yet I’m really rather interested in this guy right now. Also, has anyone ever seen any of his work reproduced in any books anywhere?

Oh, and apart from anything else, would anyone just like to join me in squeeing over *this* sort of thing?

 
 
Shrug
00:08 / 20.06.06
Thanks for this Bed, brightened up my day a little more as I had encountered neither Aubrey Beardsley nor Plank before.
I like the mixture of a somewhat flat yet vibrant figures. Frontality, centrality and reliance on profile coupled with some riotously skewed perspective. Reminiscent of Klimt in some of the Vogue pieces. So just a short squee and thanks from me.
 
 
All Acting Regiment
14:16 / 20.06.06
I think I still prefer Beardsley but yeah, these are nice.
 
 
Bed Head
22:49 / 20.06.06
Well, I absolutely love Beardsley too. But still, there *is* something about Beardsley’s art, and it’s tied up with his very young age, that makes you wonder what he’d be drawing if only he’d lived a little longer, no?



My favourite Beardsley story, as an aside, is in Pennell’s biography of Whistler. Now, I'm a big fan of Whistler, but he’s soooo prickly and supersensitive to any criticism or attack, and one of Beardsley’s Salomé drawings does rather rip off one of his drawings of peacocks, and also, young Aubrey’s been trying to be all decadent and waspish, Wilde-style, and the Wilde connection probably irks a bit because those two aren’t friends any more..

One night when Whistler was with us, Beardsley turned up, as always when he went to see anyone, with his portfolio of his latest work under his arm. This time it held the illustrations for The Rape of the Lock, which he had just made. Whistler, who always saw everything that was being done, had seen Yellow Book, started in 1894, and he disliked it as much as he then disliked Beardsley, who was the art editor; he had also seen the illustrations to Salomé, disliking them too, probably because of Oscar Wilde; he knew of many other drawings....and he no doubt knew that Beardsley had made a caricature of him which a follower had carefully left in a cab.

When Beardsley opened the portfolio and began to show us Rape of the Lock, Whistler looked at them first indifferently, then with interest, then with delight. And then he said slowly, ‘Aubrey, I have made a very great mistake – you are a very great artist.’ And the boy burst out crying. All Whistler could say, when he could say anything, was ‘I mean it – I mean it – I mean it.’


I’m sorry, but I *love* that bit. The thought of my two favourite artists in each other’s arms, the older man and the younger, both unable to speak, such is their admiration for the other’s art... Yes, yes that would be right, it’s a bit slashy. Yes it is. In the next paragraph they’re going around Paris together and Beardsley is wearing a straw hat just like Whistler’s. It’s too sweet. Oh, that's what being really fucking good at drawing should get you, a big slashy clinch with your hero/rival, and a new hat.
 
 
Shrug
16:01 / 21.06.06
I found some reasonably informative writing in "The Bookplates of George Wolfe Plank and a Selection of his illustrations" compiled by John Blatchly (foreword by John Craig) (The Bookplate Society 2002), which strangely was located in The Early Books Section of our library. After travelling deep under the library's belly and then up numerous flights of curving staircases I really expected a dustier, older tome.

But anyway the collection had a nice if small collection of snippets, letters, writing on G.W Plank, some of which I'll reproduce (and if anyone has a problem with the length of these snippets please pm me and then delete).

• For some light biographical information George wrote, "mother was unhappiness, my father pride-crippled & crushed; I knew not either one, both gone".

• Despite being a mostly self taught artist Plank did attend life classes for half a term under William Chase at The Pennsylvania Academy of Arts in 1906.

• He started his working career as a "dry goods clerk" in a store owned by William F. Gable (where his sister Anna also worked). Plank had a life long friendship with Gable who became his patron (in a way) and he often made advertisement woodcuts/prints for Gable's stores.

• Also, there seems to be some consternation as to Craig's (another lifelong friend whose prints Plank greatly admired) advice as quoted in Bed's link. The compendium gave this quote: "My own work is not good. Be careful to avoid my mistakes. It is wrong to make grey tones as I do, & all should be line [rather than live]." (Not amazingly important but mildly interesting nonetheless).

• Other influence's cited (but barely touched upon throughout the compendium) were the fascinatingly named "Beggarstaffs", Aubrey Beardsley, Jessie M. King and (something that reads like) Joseph Crewhul (in my own pretty illegible scrawl).


******************************************

"Art of Vogue Covers" William Parker (1983)

Of the American artists to work for Vogue in those exclusively American years, only George Wolfe Plank produced with any regularity images that could match, in their high finish, in the, firmness and resolution of the drawing, in the boldness and invention of the design, the work of such men as Rackham and Dulac. There is too, a certain shadow in his work, just a whiff of fin-de-siècle Paris and Vienna, not so much a suggestion of Lautrec but rather, in the richness of its decoration and the (word illegible) of its line, of Alphonse Mucha and even Gustav Klimt. Still, enjoyable through it undoubtedly is, influence spotting is a misleading game if taken too far, too literally. To suggest a reference of comparison that might encourage the curious reader to look again, for himself, to draw his own conclusion, is one thing, to be over-definite is so speculative a field, is quite another, for influences work upon artists, as they do upon all of us; insensible; and a few they know of, they do not always care to admit.

Olive Percival in Shedon Cheney’s "Bookplate Booklet" (1939)

The talent of which Mr. Plank is possessed is an unusually distinguished arc. It combines, and very ideally, as appreciation of the traditions, the limitations of his art, with a modernism that is beautifully informed and discriminating. In the use of the graver, Mr. Plank shows distinction in the management of his lines and masses. He draws with certainty and his masses are arranged with the unerring taste of a 18th Century Japanese print designer. Ugliness absents itself from all his designs and, while vigorous, they never affect a medieval crudity which, to so many, seems always to characterise this particular art.
..............
Surely our ante-bellum world was very unbeautiful but, interpreted by the blocks of Mr. Plank, it is suddenly a delightsome place, decorated with persons who, in spite of chimney-pot hats & side-whiskers & hoopskirts & round shoulders, are very engaging indeed.


*******************************************

There was also a post humous appraisal written by Perditta Schaffner (Hilda Dolittle's daughter whose novella "The Hedgehog he illustrated) which I'll write up or pm to anyone who's interested).

Despite the caveat in William Parker's piece, I feel validated in some small way by the above snippets, as upon viewing the Vogue pieces I immediately thought of Klimt, 18th Century Japanese art or even religious iconic art. Still enjoying the Vogue pieces, probably, as said before, because of the slightly Klimt(who I'm completely enamoured with)-esque slant to them. Unfortunately, the compendium I found had none of the Vogue covers and they're something I'd definitely like to see compiled/own off web so I could have a leisurely flick through now and again.
 
 
Shrug
23:33 / 18.12.06
Bed (or, indeed, any other wandering 'lither), I can't quite imagine that you haven't encountered Harry Clarke. But, just in case. Follow the (lazy) linkage:

Whatever I'm calling the link

Whatever I'm calling the link v2

I tried to find an image of my favourite stained glass piece, "The Song of the Mad Prince", but alas.
 
 
ORA ORA ORA ORAAAA!!
02:02 / 21.12.06
Possibly not 'just discovered', more a re-discovery, but: Nicholas Roerich. I recently recovered an old harddrive which had some of his images on it, and was once again tremendously impressed with the mountains. They're so sharp, crisp, beautiful. I've never really noticed air in art, but roerich gets mountain air and light exactly right.

Also, his series of Tibet, and of significant events of religious history/myth are wonderful.

So, yes. I am very excited, but I don't have much else to say, lacking the vocabulary for art-talk.

For air example, see:

Mount of Five Treasures
(warning, links are very large images)


Three Glaives


Command of Rigden Djapo


Also, I have a question: he signs his pictures with either a cross-tailed P, or a P with a forked tail and a crossbar (and, later, the P-thing, with the three dots of the 'Banner of Peace') - does anyone know what the P is for? I see it painted around town, sometimes, and quite often drawn in still-wet cement around university campus, but I don't know what it means.
 
 
*
02:20 / 21.12.06
A "P" on top of an "X" (or as one of the arms of the "X") is a combination of Chi and Rho, which stands for Christ. Commonly found in early Christian amulets.
 
 
ORA ORA ORA ORAAAA!!
03:02 / 21.12.06
Thank you! That would probably explain why it's around the Christian college at uni more than elsewhere, I guess.
 
  
Add Your Reply