My BFF Dick!

Apparently, we baby boomers still managed to read despite the criticism heaped upon the Dick and Jane readers back in the 1950s and 60s and later. I knew their world was perfect because it sure wasn’t anything close to my family when I started first grade in 1958. In Dick and Jane’s world, daddy always had a job, mom had no need to work, the Russians weren’t aiming their nukes at them and their houses were not being foreclosed on. The myths of the American way of life were continued when we went home at night to TV shows like Leave It to Beaver and Father Knows Best. At the time, I liked Dick and Jane and all the kids in their two-dimensional fantasy world. And to be truthful, I wanted to live in their world. The Dick and Jane books were one happy little neighborhood on Prozac and I wanted in.

One early critic to the series was Rudolf Flesch, a reading expert during the 50s and 60s. Flesch was the author of numerous books on literacy, but he is probably best known for his book: Why Johnny Can’t Read. It was there that he skewered the Dick and Jane series as “horrible, stupid, emasculated, pointless, tasteless little readers.”

The illustrator of the books was a woman named Eleanor Campbell (1898 - 1986). She studied at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts. Today, original illustrations by her are rare, as most of the original art was thrown into the trash by Ms. Campbell herself. Oops.

Still, count me in amongst the legions of nostalgic fans of Dick and Jane. We don’t really care that we were being sold a dream back in grade school. We boomers have come to terms with the fact that Jane is on her third marriage, Dick is an alcoholic and did some time for tax evasion, and that Spot was run over long ago by the milk truck.

An AM repost from 12/9/08.

Plowshare of a Post-war Germany

THERE IS SOMETHING MAGNIFICENT and poetic about this humble object. Only great words can describe it and there, I fall short with things of such raw beauty. I purchased this from my friend Joshua Lowenfels, who found it at a flea market in NYC. He purchased it from an old German fellow who was parting with a few things from his life. The handle is only about two feet long, so it appears to have been used as a sort of ladle for scooping and pouring wet concrete. I got weak-kneed when I saw it. If this isn’t the most perfect statement on the whole failed Nazi experiment, and of war in general, I don’t know of one. You can see more great things at in Josh’s online shop at: http://www.joshualowenfels.com

Peace.

George Widener: Calculations and Numbers in Art

(Above) Megalapolis 21 - 2005, ink on paper, 26 x 40 inches
(Above) Census Ship - 2004, ink on paper, 26 x 24 inches
(Above) Month of Sundays -- 2004, ink on paper, 10 x 7.5 inches
(Above) Sunday’s Crash - 2005, ink on paper, 36 x 52 inches
(Above) Megalapolis 2077 - 2005, ink on paper, 26 x 38 inches

WHEN I FIRST MET GEORGE WIDENER at the Outsider Art Fair some years ago, it was by happen chance. I was immediately drawn to the magnificent drawings on the walls of the Henry Boxer Gallery, drawings unlike I had seen in some time… maybe ever. Complex, complicated and filled with numbers, lists, tables and calculations of all kinds, I knew that I was looking at something fresh and different. On one wall, facing one of the main corridors, was an incredible cut-away style drawing of the HMS Titanic, the White Star Line’s greatest ship and greatest tragedy. The ship, which was drawn in profile with it’s skin peeled away, showed all the many levels of the ship and revealed the inventory of it’s contents: 2411 lbs. of flour; 12.5 lbs. of black pepper; 161 lbs. of salt; 903 lbs. of cured beef; 2023 lbs. of swordfish; and on and on. [ For reference in this example, I used bogus numbers—but George could correct me with the actual numbers at first glance. ]

Standing nearby was Henry Boxer who said “It’s quite remarkable, isn’t it?” Still wide-eyed, I agreed. He went on to tell me that the artist was sitting nearby, that his name was George Widener and that George actually knew and had memorized ALL the facts, figures, and details of the Titanic contents after having read the information only ONCE at one time in his life. This was quite jaw-dropping, seeing as I cannot remember 5 grocery store items if not written down, and even then, I have a good chance of misplacing the list before I get to the store. I eventually learned that George was a high-functioning savant, diagnosed with Asperger’s. George could tell me the zip code of any city in the United States and he knew the day of the week that I was born when I gave him my birth month, day and year. And, he knew what the weather was like across the country for that single day in 1951!

I was convinced I was looking at something phenomenal without even having met George, who was a delightful man to talk to. I actually bought a piece, right then and there, the first year his work was shown to the Outsider Art Fair public. Widener’s work stands, in my opinion, as a singular creative style on the merit’s of it’s content and vision. There is nothing else like it. And THAT is what makes a great artist.

Contact The Henry Boxer Gallery to see more of George’s work.

Early Infographics: The Path of a Jaywalker

I purchased this several years ago from photo dealer James Lampkin, who occasionally sells photographs on eBay. His store is called VINTAGE PHOTOGRAPHS, and he looks far and wide for great pictures. James has a deep understanding of the history of photography and puts each photo he lists into its historical context. This press photo, by photographer Ray Platnick, was taken in New York in 1946 for Picture Magazine. What I like about this photo is the added, painted-on arrows, showing “the path” a jaywalking woman took in her crazy path across the street. With the retouchers addition of the arrows, the photograph enters a more conceptual place—without the arrows we are looking at another busy street.

An AM repost from 11/27/08.

Stamps, Part Deux: Arranging the Page

Click any image for larger view.


Click any image for larger view.


STAMP COLLECTIONS ARE SOMETHING AKIN to scrapbooks. How you arrange the stamps on a blank page can be an entirely personal design exercise. Some of the most beautiful arranged collections I have ever seen are arrowheads. Since they are pointed, displays usually end up with some unique, creative arranged designs. With the exception of the top image, these pages showcase unusual cancellation marks of stamps, which I think is a highly artistic collecting focus.

These stamps were part of the 2009 Heritage Auction Galleries Inaugural Signature Stamp Auction. Heritage Auction Galleries is the world’s largest collectibles auctioneer. The auction is online, through Live Auctioneers.

An AM repost from 2/7/09.

The Bonus Side of Cabinet Cards

All of us have seen cabinet cards, those 19th century portraits on heavy card stock you find for a buck in almost every antique shop in America. Did you ever consider the backs of these cards? Almost all have beautiful and graphic typographic or pictorial examples that advertised the photo studio or photographer. While many cabinet cards portraits (the fronts) can be relatively bland, you might want to flip the card over. Like a second chance lottery ticket—you just might have a second chance at something wonderful. These images are from Luminous Lint, the most comprehensive Web site on photography in the world. Luminous Lint is a labor of love by Alan Griffiths. (alan@luminous-lint.com)

These cabinet card backs are from the private collection of Anthony Davis, and were part of an online exhibition on Luminous Lint.
Antiq-photo Rainbow Creations
(www.19cphoto.com)

An AM repost from 2/11/09

Richard Serra at The Nasher Sculpture Center

Photos by John Foster.

My Curves Are Not Mad, 1987 Cor-Ten Steel, Overall: 168 x 539 3/8 x 139 in. (426.7 x 1370 x 353.1 cm.) Each plate: 168 x 539 3/8 x 2 in. (426.7 x 1370 x 5.1 cm.) Raymond and Patsy Nasher Collection, Dallas


RECENTLY I HAD THE OPPORTUNITY to visit The Nasher Sculpture Center in Dallas, Texas. Besides being able to view the installation of a major exhibition of monumental works by British artist Tony Cragg—the building itself was a stunning piece of architecture by Pritzker Prize winner Renzo Piano.

Though The Nasher Sculpture Center provided plenty of art to discuss, I want to write about the incredible work I viewed by Richard Serra (born 1939), entitled “My Curves Are Not Mad.” Imagine the fabrication process of bending and twisting two, 44 feet long, 14 feet high pieces of Cor-Ten steel, metal that weighs over 50 thousand pounds. But this is just the mechanics, the behind-the-scenes part. What I really want to address is the art of Richard Serra.

Choose a vantage point. Pick a time of day. Open your mind and your eyes to the subtle shifts of color and light, in a massive, immovable object that is in no way static. Shape and form become organic, steel becomes inviting and warm, and rust and light speaks to change. My photographs were taken about 1:00 in the afternoon, and the sun was nearly directly overhead. Still, under the Texas sun, these “gently” twisted and flexed sheets of steel fit beautifully into the formal outdoor sculpture garden of the Nasher Sculpture Center.

The Nasher is a lovely place, inside and out. And on this beautiful day—Richard Serra—a man of steel, warmed my heart.

Note: St. Louis is home to two Richard Serra pieces, one of which, entitled “Joe,” is housed at the magnificent Pulitzer Foundation for the Arts and the second, which is in a public space at Market Street and 11th, entitled “Twain”.