Everyday is like Sunday

April 18th, 2013 by Beth Kleber

Milton Glaser Collection Box 34 Folder 1. "Milton Glaser after Seurat" mechanical, undated.

Throughout his career, Milton Glaser has made a project of creating not-quite-faithful reproductions of the work of the masters he reveres: works after Giorgione, Degas, Monet, and Piero della Francesca are all part of his collection in the Glaser Archives. “Milton Glaser after Seurat” is unique among the group in that he adapts the subject but not the technique. Glaser replaces the original’s dots with Push Pin-style thin black lines and broad swaths of bright, flat color (achieved with cello-tak in this, and many other, mechanicals from the time); yet, Seurat’s and Glaser’s slightly distorted figures are perfectly compatible, and Glaser does hit upon the conspicuously missing element – a comfy lawn chair. Overall, the effect is far sunnier, and though this piece is not dated, I’d be surprised if it weren’t created around the same time Glaser and Push Pin were advancing their influential brand of pop-psychedelia.

Transparent things

February 11th, 2013 by Beth Kleber

James McMullan Collection Box 3 Folder 11. Tearsheet for Esquire, 1971.

Nabokov’s Transparent Things was first published in the December 1971 issue of Esquire, accompanied by watercolor illustrations by James McMullan (the novella, sans illustrations, was published in book form the following year). McMullan sometimes works in a kind of adapted hyperrealistic style, but the result often carries elements of surrealism; other pieces are fully committed to incongruous juxtapositions. McMullan’s dreamy paintings for Transparent Things were printed in black and white (or, rather, black and green), but we’re lucky to have one original piece.

James McMullan Collection Box 3 Folder 11. Original art for Esquire, 1971.

James McMullan Collection Box 3 Folder 11. Tearsheet for Esquire, 1971.

In a 1972 interview, Nabokov addressed critical misperceptions about the book:

Reviewers of my little book made the lighthearted mistake of assuming that seeing through things is the professional function of a novelist. Actually, that kind of generalization is not only a dismal commonplace but is specifically untrue. Unlike the mysterious observer or observers in Transparent Things, a novelist is, like all mortals, more fully at home on the surface of the present than in the ooze of the past.

Odd bird

November 21st, 2012 by Zachary Sachs

Looks like a regular ocellated fellow, with one significant difference. Cross-reference for flowers sprouting from heads: Utopia Records, and this poster for Push Pin Graphic. (Typeface is Glaser Stencil, which appeared on other Poppy productions as well.)

Skeleton key

November 13th, 2012 by Beth Kleber

Milton Glaser Collection Box 19 Folder 5. Columbia Records. Album cover art for "Death & the Maiden", undated.

Forever potent and still open to interpretation despite its ubiquity, the skeleton has surfaced many times in the early work of Milton Glaser. Glaser has exploited its (sometimes comic) menace with both expressive rendering and exploration of the shape of the skull. His art for Schubert’s “Death and the Maiden”, which would make an excellent album cover for several other musical genres, incorporates powerful swirls of flat color similar to his Dylan poster, but to a vastly different effect.

Below, a sketch and the printed final work for a magazine article on the economics of the international drug trade.

Milton Glaser Collection Box 61 Folder 19. Vista Magazine sketch, late 1960s-early 1970s.

And hey, a couple of poppies are growing out of that skull.

Vista magazine illustration from Milton Glaser: Graphic Design (Penguin, 1973).

For the great iceberg lettuce boycott of the early 1970s (entering the 1972 Democratic National Convention, Ted Kennedy welcomed the crowd with “Greetings, fellow lettuce boycotters!”), Glaser sketched one threatening head of lettuce. I’m not sure this art ever made it into production, but he used a similar idea for the grape boycott a few years earlier.

Milton Glaser Collection Box 40 Folder 12. Poster sketch, c. 1972.

Finally, a sketch and printed final piece from an unidentified publication.

Milton Glaser Collection Box 63 Folder 8. Sketch, undated.

Glaser traded in the gestural fairy of his sketch for a more traditional version.

Milton Glaser Collection Box 93 Folder 2. Illustration unknown publication.

See also: Henry Wolf’s x-rays.

Paris in your pocket

September 14th, 2012 by Beth Kleber

Seymour Chwast Collection Series 7. Bic Parfum slide, c. 1989.

In 1988, Bic launched a fragrance line, hoping, somehow, to bring the convenience of their pens, lighters, and razors to the world of perfume. The French company touted their product as “the world’s first fine French perfume that combine[s] high quality with affordable pricing and a stylish, portable design.” Four fragrances were produced: “Jour” and “Nuit” for women, plus “Bic for Men” and “Bic Sport for Men.” The pocket-size bottles were designed to resemble Bic lighters and sold for $5 in the same drugstores and supermarkets where other Bic products were made available.

It was a classic case of overreach (despite the “Paris in your pocket” pitch of their advertising) and Bic Parfum tanked, because it turns out people don’t want to buy French perfume from the same people who make their disposable lighters and plastic pens. Production and distribution in most markets ceased in 1991, though apparently it is still produced and sold in Iran.

However, let us not find fault with the charming packaging for the US designed by Seymour Chwast. His typically bright and playful illustrations adorn several versions he developed for the brand.

Seymour Chwast Collection Series 7. Bic Parfum slide, c. 1989.

Seymour Chwast Collection Series 7. Bic Parfum slide, c. 1989.

Seymour Chwast Collection Series 7. Bic Parfum slide, c. 1989.

Chwast experimented with several different approaches; the examples below are more type-centric.

Seymour Chwast Collection Series 7. Bic Parfum slide, c. 1989.

This one gets closest to the glamor and exoticism generally favored by fragrance companies in the 80s.

Seymour Chwast Collection Series 7. Bic Parfum slide, c. 1989.

All Together Now

August 1st, 2012 by Beth Kleber

Milton Glaser Collection. "Gian Carlo Menotti's Help, Help, The Globolinks!" adapted by Leigh Dean and illustrated by Milton Glaser (G. Schirmer, 1970).

Gian Carlo Menotti’s sci-fi opera for children Help, Help, The Globolinks! tells the story of instrument-wielding children who ultimately fight off an alien invasion. The Globolinks land on Earth in front of a school bus to a score of sinister electronic sounds, seeking to destroy all they touch. Humans who come into contact with the Globolinks are rendered speechless and are ultimately transformed into one of them. Only music can save the day, as the children from St. Paul’s School discover they can defeat the Globolinks with their voices and instruments. Menotti’s opera premiered in Hamburg on December 21, 1968 (here’s a clip from a 1969 production); it was performed in English at the New York City Opera in December 1969. The libretto was adapted for a children’s book in 1970, complete with illustrations (based the original production) by Milton Glaser.

Sound familiar? Though somewhat more earnest in tone (but not without an element of camp), Help, Help, The Globolinks! set up much the same conflict as 1968′s Yellow Submarine; it’s not much of a leap to imagine the children of St. Paul’s School taking on the Blue Meanies. Looking at the broad swaths of flat, eye-popping color, the bulbous shapes, even the human figure proportions, it’s easy to see the stylistic similarities shared at the time by Milton Glaser and Yellow Submarine‘s art director Heinz Edelmann (though Edelmann made a sharp turn away from psychedelic art after the success of that film).

Offset German film poster by Heinz Edelmann, 1969 from "Electrical Banana" by Norman Hathaway & Dan Nadel, 2011.

Still from "Yellow Submarine" (1968).

Milton Glaser Collection Box 45 Folder 6. Original art for "Gian Carlo Menotti's Help, Help, The Globolinks!"

Milton Glaser Collection Box 45 Folder 10. Original art for "Gian Carlo Menotti's Help, Help, The Globolinks!"

Milton Glaser Collection Box 45 Folder 4. Original art for "Gian Carlo Menotti's Help, Help, The Globolinks!"

Milton Glaser Collection. "Gian Carlo Menotti's Help, Help, The Globolinks!" adapted by Leigh Dean and illustrated by Milton Glaser (G. Schirmer, 1970).

Milton Glaser Collection. "Gian Carlo Menotti's Help, Help, The Globolinks!" adapted by Leigh Dean and illustrated by Milton Glaser (G. Schirmer, 1970).

Layer upon layer

July 25th, 2012 by Beth Kleber

James McMullan Collection Box 3 Folder 10. Mechanical for Esquire or GQ illustration.

These drawings from the James McMullan Collection caught my eye as we were preparing for McMullan’s Masters Series exhibition coming up this fall. McMullan’s art will often incorporate fine pen lines with gentle watercolor but this is one of the few examples I know of where he (like Chwast and Glaser) utilized actual layering for the mechanical; in this case, the pen drawing was printed on a transparent overlay on top of an original watercolor. I love this piece because it’s so carefully constructed; the reader of the magazine article has no idea how each layer stands so beautifully on its own. The colorful base layer is a slightly more abstracted version of McMullan’s trademark watercolor illustrations. The top layer is more unusual (for him): a highly detailed, cross-hatched comic strip style line drawing.

James McMullan Collection Box 3 Folder 10. Original art for Esquire or GQ illustration.

James McMullan Collection Box 3 Folder 10. Original art for Esquire or GQ illustration.

James McMullan Collection Box 3 Folder 10. Original art for Esquire or GQ illustration.