Showing posts with label Princeton University. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Princeton University. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

F. Scott Fitzgerald at Princeton

by Stephen J. Gertz


F. Scott Fitzgerald was not a good student. At age sixteen he was expelled from St. Paul's Academy. At seventeen he entered Princeton University after a brief stint at a prep school to get his grades up.

At Princeton he became friends with future critics and writers, Edmund Wilson and John Peale Bishop. He became absorbed in the Triangle Club, Princeton's theater group, the oldest touring collegiate musical comedy troupe in the U.S., and renowned for featuring an all-male kick-line in drag.

Fie! Fie! Fi-Fi! was the first Triangle Club production written by Fitzgerald, a freshman whose book and lyrics were selected for 1914-15  production.


"Fitzgerald was cast in the role of Celeste, but due to his poor grades could not appear in the show and the role went to one of the composers, Dudley Griffin. That did not stop him from having his picture taken as a chorus girl. Being a chorus girl in a Triangle show was by far the sought after role. At a time when co-educational schools were rare, both sexes in a play were portrayed by the available student body. Therefore, it was not unusual to view a Princeton show with men dressed as women" (Ellwood Annaheim, opening remarks to the 1998 Musical Theater Research Project performance of Fie! Fie! Fi! Fi!).

His witty lyrics won high praise.

Fie! Fi! Fi! We're shocked that you are married.
Fie ! Fi! Fi! Your little plan miscarried.
I only did what I thought best,
The place for  you is way out West
From manicuring take a rest
For far too long you've tarried

You had to be there.


Fitzgerald was a Junior in the class of 1917. There are at least three  photographs of him in the Bric-A-Brac for that year. He's in the center rear of his class photo, one of the few in class not wearing a top hat or bearing a cane. He's also pictured in the Triangle Club, as well as credited with the lyrics for the club’s annual musical Fie! Fie! Fi-Fi (coverage for which takes up several pages), and he's again pictured on the staff of the Princeton Tiger. He is also listed in several other places, including as a member of the Cottage Club, The American Whig Society, and the Minnesota Club. Classmates Edmund Wilson and John Peale Bishop are pictured in the book.

Fitzgerald, at rear center.

In the The Nassau Herald, Class of Nineteen Hundred and Eighteen, Fitzgerald is mentioned as a member of several clubs, and is pictured in a group photograph of the Board of the Princeton Tiger. Edmund Wilson has a separate class entry.




In 1919, the war effort presumably interfered with timely publication of the Bric-A-Brac, and this yearbook seems to cover five classes instead of the traditional four. Fitzgerald was in the Senior Class and sits front, dead center in the class photo. He is also pictured in the Triangle Club, (as well as credited with the lyrics for the club’s musical, Safety First) and as a member of the Board of the Princeton Tiger. He is also listed as a member of the Cottage and Frenau clubs.

Ever the lazy student, Fitzgerald was on academic probation and unlikely to graduate when he left Princeton to enlist in the Army for WWI. Commissioned as a second lieutenant, he was convinced he would not survive the war. The Armistice intervened.
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Images courtesy of Between the Covers, currently offering these Fitzgerald items, with our thanks.
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Of related interest:

The $150,000 Dust Jacket Comes to Auction (The Great Gatsby).

In Paris With Scott, Zelda, Kiki, Ernest, Gertrude, etc., and Georges Barbier.
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Friday, December 24, 2010

Tigers Burn Bright At Princeton

By Nancy Mattoon


Max Bolliger.
Der goldene Apfel: Eine Geschichte
.
Illustrated by Celestino Piatti.
Zürich: Artemis Verlag, 1970.
(All Images Courtesy Of Cotsen Children's Library.)


Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

William Blake, 1794.


André Hellé. Grosse bêtes & petites bêtes.
Paris: Tolmer & Cie, ca. 1912.


According to The Cambridge Companion to William Blake (2003), The Tyger is "the most anthologized poem in English." And when the Animal Planet television network conducted a poll in 2004, asking viewers to name "their favorite animal," the tiger came out on top at 21%, beating out even man's best friend. (Dogs came in second at 20%.) Moreover, various species of tigers are the national animal for the countries of Bangladesh, Nepal, India, Malaysia, North Korea and South Korea. (Finally something both Korea's can agree on!) All of which proves the enormous tabby cat we call the tiger is a very popular fellow around the globe. That's one reason why Princeton University's Cotsen Children's Library devoted an exhibition to tigers as depicted in its historic picture book collection.


Samuil Marshak. Detki v kletke [Children in a Cage].
Illustrations by Evgenii Charushin.
3rd ed. Moscow: Detgiz, 1947.


Of course, Princeton University had another reason to celebrate Panthera tigris. Like the Detroit Major League baseball team, the English rugby club of Leicester, and the Louisiana State University football team, among many others, the Princeton athletic team mascot is the tiger. According to the Princeton Parent's Handbook, "Originally, Princeton's mascot was the lion—seen by the administration as the most regal animal. However, in 1867 the sophomore baseball team decided to adorn orange ribbons with black numerals. The orange and black combination stuck and by the early 1880s florid sports writers began to refer to Princeton's teams as the Tigers."


Book of Animals. Mounted on Linen.
Springfield, MA: McLoughlin Bros. Inc.,

[between 1920-1929?].

The adoption of the tiger as Princeton's mascot may have been accidental, but that hasn't made it any less beloved. In 2007, after over 125 years of having a nameless tiger symbolize their sporting excellence, Princeton's Athletic department sponsored an online contest to "Name The Tiger." The overwhelming response was: "Don't Name Princeton's Mascot." Students and faculty alike resented the fact that the naming contest took place over the summer, when most of them weren't even on campus. And a Facebook page was created to complain that "commercialization" of the mascot would be an unnecessary break with tradition. In the end, the nameless Princeton Tiger got a graphic "facelift" of its official logo, but remained, as always, unnamed.


Bentsyion Raskin. Di hun vas gevolt hobn a kam.
[The Hen Who Wanted a Comb].

Illustrated by El Lissitsky.
Kiev: Yidisher Folks-Farlag, 1919.


William Ralston and C.W. Cole.
Tippoo: A Tale of a Tiger etc., etc.
(Routledge's Shilling Toy Books 115)
London, New York: G. Routledge & Sons, [1886].

Princeton's Tiger may be forever nameless, but many named tigers have graced the pages of literature. In The Jungle Book (1894), Kipling's deadly Shere Khan got his name from a combination of the Urdu/Hindi name for "tiger "(shere) and that language's word for "king" (khan). At the other end of the spectrum from Kipling's menacing lord of the jungle, A.A. Milne created the ever-bouncing Tigger, one of the happiest creatures in Winnie The Pooh's hundred acre wood, in 1928. And more recently, the Man Booker Prize-winning, Life of Pi (2001) by Yann Martel featured a tiger stranded on the Pacific Ocean named "Richard Parker." That name, in turn, came from a novel by Edgar Allan Poe, The Narrative Of Gordon Pym (1838), which featured a dog named "Tiger," and a mutinous sailor named "Richard Parker."


Harry B. Neilson, author-illustrator. An Animal A B C.
London, Glasgow, Bombay: Blackie and Son Ltd., 1901.


Popular culture hasn't shied away from the majestic tiger, either. The bookish, artistic, and conscientious, Hobbes the tiger makes up the smarter half of the comic strip duo of Calvin and Hobbes. In a much darker cartoon depiction of the tiger, famed political cartoonist Thomas Nast used the big cat to symbolize the evil political machine known as "Tammany Hall." Nast notoriously depicted the corrupt "Tammany Tiger" devouring American democracy. Back on the lighter side is Kellogg's famous "Tony The Tiger." Tony apparently thrives on sugared corn flakes, making him the world's only vegetarian tiger.


Qi hu yongshi: yi zu min jian chuan ji
[Brave Tiger Rider: I Tribe Folk Tales].
Illustrated by Qinchu Guo.
Shanghai: Shao nian er tong chu ban she, 1963.

The ubiquity of the tiger as an image of beauty, strength, and majesty makes it easy to forget that this magnificent, striped cat is a highly endangered species. According to the website Big Cat Rescue, "Tiger numbers in the wild are thought to have plunged from 100,000 at the beginning of the 20th century to between 1,500 and 3,500 today (2009)." There are now more tigers in captivity than living in their natural habitat. The tiger has become a worldwide symbol of conservation, and one can only hope its popularity with its greatest enemy, man, will allow this amazing creature to escape extinction.
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Monday, November 8, 2010

Coloring Books Go Highbrow At Princeton Library

By Nancy Mattoon


PARAIN, Nathalie. Ribambelles [Paper Chains].
Paris: Flammarion, 1932.

(All Images Courtesy Of Cotsen Children's Library, Princeton University.)

A craft book for ages five to twelve with instructions for accordion-folding paper, and designs to trace and cut around. The paper chains are used to decorate table settings and other objects. Natalie Parain was one of the first Russian artists employed by Paul Faucher, and illustrated a dozen books in the Pere Castor series.

Children's literature in general doesn't get much respect from academia and university libraries. But the true "Rodney Dangerfield" of kid's books--even lower than the lowest of low-brow comic books--has got to be activity books. Coloring books, puzzle books, dot-to-dot books, and paper doll books are basically paper-bound Highlights magazines, minus Goofus and Gallant. Meant to be written in, cut up, and thrown away, they are probably the most inherently disposable books ever printed. But even these pedestrian tomes can become high art in the right hands, and Princeton University's Cotsen Children's Library has created an online exhibition of rare books to prove it.

ROJANKOVSKY, Feodor?
Detail from rear cover of :
Je fais mes jouets avec des plantes
[I Make My Toys with Plants].

Paris: Flammarion, 1934.

Two examples of the use of the Pere Castor logo. Feodor Rojankovsky was well known as an illustrator of children's books and also as an erotic illustrator.

LALOUVE WOLFF, Kate.
Title page vignette from: Le beau jeu des vitraux

[The Great Game of Stained Glass Windows].

Paris: Flammarion, 1934.


Wolff was a Jew who narrowly escaped the Holocaust, and later emigrated to the United States.

In 1931, French author and educator Paul Faucher (1898-1967) took on the pen name Pere Castor (Father Beaver) to write and produce a series of "albums" for children. The intention of the Albums Du Pere Castor was to stimulate a child's imagination and creativity. Craft projects featuring high quality artwork which enhanced hand eye-coordination were the hallmark of the series, published by Flammarion, the well-known producer of the Tintin books. Faucher believed that "creative play with highly stylized or abstract forms, colored paper, paste, and scissors" could promote self-expression, cooperation, and "communicate human values." The busy and industrious beaver, associated with the construction of dams and lodges, was chosen as the mascot of the series, and appeared in a wide variety of logos throughout the albums.

COLMONT, Marie.
Panorama du fleuve [Panorama of a River].

Illustrated by Alexandra Exter.

Paris: Flammarion, c1937.

Alexandra Exter was an avant-garde painter and theatrical designer. The Panorama du fleuve–nearly six feet long when opened out– was published in English translation reformatted as a conventional picture book, instead of in the original accordion-folded strips with text on one side and illustrations on the other.

Panorama's First Double Page Spread.

Faucher chose the perfect moment to begin such an ambitious project. Paris was the refuge for a large number of avant-garde artists who had fled the Soviet Union when the government decreed that the only acceptable art style was Socialist Realism. Unwilling to restrict their work to pieces which faithfully educated "workers in the spirit of socialism," these progressive artists were forced to reestablish their careers in France. In order to create portfolios of published art, they worked cheap.Their need for quick visibility in the public eye meant Faucher could afford to employ artists of a much higher quality than would normally be willing to work on a series of children's activity books.

BELVES, Pierre.
Back cover of:
Les métiers en images lumineuses
[The Trades in Illuminated Pictures].

Paris: Flammarion, 1953.

The child is instructed to cut away the white space in the picture and fill in the cut-outs with pieces of colored paper. The completed picture can be pasted on a window to create the effect of stained glass. The back cover shows all the outlines colored in as samples. Pierre Belvès created seven "stained glass" books on different subjects for the Albums Du Pere Castor series.

The Outline Of "The Miner."

Faucher was a forward thinking educator, and the innovative Russian artists were a perfect match for his theories of l'Education Nouvelle. Faucher stressed that education must enhance the child's natural spirit of exploration and imagination, and that artistic and physical skills were as important as book learning. His perfect blend of sound education theory and magnificent artwork led to the Pere Castor series being recognized almost immediately as worthy of serious attention and study.

LEBLONDE, Victorine.
Animaux domestiques articulés: Découpage et montage sans collage.

[Articulated Domestic Animals: Cutting and Assembly Without Glue].
Paris: Flammarion, 1941.


The child cuts and folds paper pieces for assembly into 3D animals. The instructions are surrounded by a border of the completed figures. The paper cut-outs are stabilized with matchsticks, making this the perfect project for budding firebugs. (Young glue sniffers must look elsewhere...)

Pieces to create the chickens and the donkey.

But more importantly to Faucher, the albums were tremendously popular with kids. And because they were published as low cost pamphlets, they were affordable even for children whose parents couldn't buy them hardcover books. The result was that cheap, inherently ephemeral publications wound up being, according to the Cotsen exhibition,"some of the most striking and influential Modernist books for children of the last century." In their pristine state, untouched by the grubby little hands they were meant to entertain and educate, the Albums Du Pere Castor are also extremely rare.
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Friday, August 27, 2010

Old Money Shows At Princeton

Detail From: Czechoslovakia, 50 korun, 1929. (Front.)
Designed by Alfons Mucha, engraved by Karel Wolf.
Collection of Vsevolod Onyshkevych.
(All Images Courtesy Of Princeton University Numismatic Collection.)

It makes the world go around, it talks, it can't buy happiness, and the only sure way to double it is to fold it over once and put it in your pocket. Yes, we're talking a mark, a yen, a buck, or a pound, but minus that clinking, clanking sound. In other words, currency. While vintage coin collections are a dime a dozen, it is more unusual, and more difficult, to accumulate historical paper money. Almost as quickly as they disappear from the average checking account, banknotes become victims of the wear and tear of circulation. The average life span of a one dollar bill is 22 months according to the Federal Reserve Bank. By contrast, the average coin stays in circulation for 25 years. But the design and creation of printed bills dates all the way back to 7th century China, and a new exhibition of archival currency at Princeton University's Firestone Library proves making money really can be a fine art.

Robert Deodaat Emile Oxenaar,
Dutch 100 Guilder Note, 1977.
(Front)
Collection of Vsevolod Onyshkevych.

Detail From Obverse.

Robert Deodaat Emile Oxenaar,
Dutch 100 Guilder Note, 1977.
(Back)
This Beautiful Note Has Since Been Replaced By The Euro.

The exhibit, Money on Paper, features American currency from Princeton's Numismatic Collection, one of only three such comprehensive collections at a U.S. university. (The others are at Yale University and the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.) Princeton's currency collection includes over 650 U.S. Colonial/Continental notes, roughly 2,000 Confederate States of America bills, and nearly 1,200 19th century American "Broken Bank Notes," so named because of the frequency with which the issuing banks closed up shop, leaving the bill holder with a fistful of worthless paper. Supplementing the display are rare items on loan from the world class banknote collection of Princeton Class of 1983 alum, Vsevolod Onyshkevych, which is particularly strong in European currency.

New Jersey, 1 shilling, December 31, 1763.
Designed By Benjamin Franklin.
Printed by James Parker, Woodbridge. (Front)

New Jersey, 1 shilling,
December 31, 1763. (Back)


Beginning in 1684, British colonies were barred from minting their own coins. This led to the American colonies becoming one of the earliest regular issuers of paper money. Both Paul Revere and South Carolina engraver Thomas Corum were notable designers of colonial currency, but the most inventive note printer of the era was, not surprisingly, Benjamin Franklin, who even penned a 1729 treatise on the subject. Beginning in 1730, Franklin was the printer of all paper money issued by Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Delaware. Franklin's license to print money proved extremely lucrative, and he devised several ingenious ways to prevent counterfeiting. These included a secret process for transferring the irregular patterns and fine lines of tree leaves onto printing plates, and the creation of a unique paper stock infused with mica particles.

John James Audubon,
Grouse Vignette, c. 1822.


The star attraction of the Princeton exhibit is the first public display of what has been called the "holy grail of Audubon scholarship," the recently discovered banknote engraving of a grouse by the great wildlife illustrator, which is his first published work. Audubon had made two references to the illustration in his diaries, but some researchers doubted its existence. It was even suggested that Audubon lied when he wrote of it to enhance his, then nonexistent, reputation. Eric Newman, a numismatic historian, and Robert Peck, a senior fellow with Philadelphia's Academy of Natural Sciences spent ten years searching for the long-lost illustration. They discovered it on a sheet of sample images produced in 1824 by a New Jersey engraver who specialized in illustrations for banknotes. Although it is unsigned, the image is "Vintage, quintessential Audubon," according to Roberta Olson, curator of drawings at the New York Historical Society, which houses all 435 original watercolors for Birds of America. On display with a sample sheet containing the vignette will be an original watercolor by Audubon, a steel printing plate from Birds of America, and the Princeton first edition of the elephant folio book open to the page with Audubon's drawing of the pinnated grouse.

Who Knew George Had Such Great Gams?

New York, New York, The National Bank, $5,
Unissued Proof (c. 1829).Vignettes of George Washington,
and the Mythological Figure Hebe by Asher B. Durand.


Imagine The Uproar If Today's Treasury Department
Issued A Five Featuring This Scantily-Clad Beauty?

One of the premier banknote designers of the first half of the 19th century was renowned Hudson River School painter, Asher B. Durand. Durand began his career as an engraver. He produced the well-known engraving of the signing of the Declaration of Independence for portraitist John Trumbull, which in 1995 became the obverse design on the two-dollar bill. Durand, along with his brother, Cyrus, pioneered the classical, patriotic designs which still hold sway over American currency today. Their intricate borders and highly detailed designs were also a delightfully decorative way of discouraging would-be forgers.

John C. Calhoun,
7th Vice President Of The United States.

Confederate States of America, $1,000,
Montgomery, Alabama, May 22, 1861.

Andrew Jackson,
7th President Of The United States.

Another section of the exhibit compares the imagery of Northern and Southern currency before and during the American Civil War. Included is a complete set of six notes printed by the National Bank Note Company of New York and smuggled into the Confederacy in 1861 for distribution as currency of Alabama and Virginia. These notes are in Extremely Fine condition, making them exceedingly rare.

Obverse of the Series of 1896 Silver Certificate:
"Electricity as the Dominant Force in the World."

And The Image That Got It Banned In Boston.

The American section of the exhibition ends with the Educational Series of 1896, a group of Silver Certificates featuring allegorical motifs, and considered to be the most beautiful currency ever produced in the United States. Designed and engraved by some of the most important illustrators of the day, the series featured the infamous five-dollar bill "banned in Boston" due to its depiction of bare-breasted women on the obverse.

Czechoslovakia, 50 korun, 1929. (Front.)
Designed by Alfons Mucha, engraved by Karel Wolf.
Collection of Vsevolod Onyshkevych.

The European section of the show includes Czechoslovakian currency produced by Alfons Mucha, better known for his Art Nouveau posters of actress Sarah Bernhardt, among others. When Czechoslovakia won its independence after World War I, Mucha designed the first postage stamps, banknotes and other government documents for the new state. By the late 1930's Mucha's art, and his Czech nationalism,were denounced in the Nazi press. When German troops invaded Czechoslovakia in the spring of 1939, the 79 year-old artist was considered so dangerous he was among the first persons detained by the Gestapo. During his imprisonment and interrogation, Mucha contracted pneumonia. Though eventually released, his health was ruined, and he never recovered. Broken-hearted at the takeover of his homeland by Hitler, Mucha died on July 14, 1939.

Czechoslovakia, 50 korun, 1929. (Back)
Designed by Alfons Mucha, engraved by Karel Wolf.
Collection of Vsevolod Onyshkevych.


Something For The Ladies:
Money Featuring A Beefcake Shot.


A publication entitled Money on Paper, by Princeton's Curator of Numismatics Alan M. Stahl, accompanies the exhibit. It contains a full catalogue of the bank notes on display, with many illustrated in full color. There are also three illustrated essays in the catalogue: Mark Tomasko writing on "Bank Note Engraving in the United States," Francis Musella on "Benjamin Franklin's Nature Printing on Bank Notes," and an edited version of the headline-making article by Robert Peck and Eric P. Newman entitled "Discovered! The First Engraving of an Audubon Bird." The Money on Paper exhibit at the Leonard L. Milberg Gallery for the Graphic Arts of the Firestone Library opens August 30, 2010 and continues through January 2, 2011.

Monday, August 23, 2010

Princeton Library Puts Art On The Map

Detail From: Jansson, Jan, 1588–1664.
“Mar del Zur Hispanis Mare Pacificum.”
Copperplate map, with added color, 42 × 52 cm.
(Amsterdam, 1650) (All Images Courtesy Of Princeton University Libraries.)


According to an August 20, 2010 article in Britain's Daily Mail, "Men clock up an average 276 miles a year aimlessly driving around lost rather than asking for directions." And women drivers, despite a million jokes about men being too proud to ask for directions, don't fare much better, averaging 256 miles a year aimlessly spinning their wheels. All of which seem to indicate that even with the advent of GPS technology, a good old-fashioned map, and the ability to read it, still comes in handy.

Cartouche From: Jansson, Jan, 1588–1664.
“Mar del Zur Hispanis Mare Pacificum.”
Copperplate map, with added color, 42 × 52 cm.
(Amsterdam, 1650)

The road maps we use today, whether digital or on paper, are strictly utilitarian. We glance at them only long enough to figure out how to get from "point a" to "point b." But there was a time when the map was an object of beauty, and a work of art. Princeton University's Historic Maps Collection and Firestone Library Department of Rare Books and Special Collections have combined forces to create three exquisite online exhibits centered around maps from the Age of Discovery, roughly the early 1400's through the late 1600's. These exhibits contain a wealth of information about the exploration of the Pacific Ocean, The African Continent, and North America. There's an embarrassment of riches here, so this article concentrates on only one intriguing aspect of the maps: their ornamentation and embellishment.

Cartouche From: Blaeu, Willem Janszoon, 1571-1638.
"Regiones Sub Polo Arctico" [ca. 1638].
Copperplate map, 39.4 x 51.1 cm.,
handcolored, with French text on verso.


The word "cartouche" has its origins in Egyptian hieroglyphics, but to Europeans it meant a paper encasement, coffin, or scroll, often bound with a rope. The term is used in everything from armaments to architecture, but in cartography it is any decoration on a map that is self-contained. This frame with a decorative border may contain the map's title, its scale, a dedication, the printer's address, and/or the date of the map's publication. The cartouche depicted here is from a map containing the major English discoveries of Henry Hudson and William Baffin, as well as those within Hudson Bay of Thomas Button and Thomas James. The images surrounding it include a cannibal enjoying a tasty snack, and a European cooking his own food, who may represent Hudson after he was cast adrift by mutineers.


Detail From: Blaeu, Willem Janszoon, 1571-1638.
"Regiones Sub Polo Arctico" [ca. 1638].
Copperplate map, 39.4 x 51.1 cm.,
handcolored, with French text on verso.


This is a vignette, with a cartouche within. In the vignette figures, flora, and fauna leave their frame and blend into the map. Here the fanciful, wolf-like creature atop the scale is intended to be a polar bear. Map makers sometimes relied on modest sketches or verbal descriptions to create their versions of the strange creatures encountered by explorers. Other times they added animals they were familiar with, whether or not they could actually be found in the location depicted on the map.

Detail From: Blaeu, Willem Janszoon, 1571-1638.
“Africae nova descriptio.”
Copperplate carte à figures map, with added color, 35 x 45 cm.
(Amsterdam, 1644).

This border is from one of the most accomplished and popular early maps of Africa. Its fine engraving and calligraphy, ornate cartouches, delicate hand coloring, and exquisite pictorial detailing all mark it as one of the most artful maps ever produced. It was first issued in 1630, and reprinted repeatedly in Latin, French, German, Dutch, and Spanish atlases as late as 1667.

Detail From: Blaeu, Willem Janszoon, 1571-1638.
“Africae nova descriptio.”
Copperplate carte à figures map, with added color, 35 x 45 cm.
(Amsterdam, 1644).

Another section of Willem Blaeu's map of Africa, which was drawn in a format called carte a figures. Its decorative border contains meticulous renderings of native costumes from each of the coastal nations depicted. The oval panels contain views of major port cities and their landmarks. A wide variety of animal life decorates the map's interior, including lions, elephants, ostriches, and flying fish.

Detail From: Levasseur, Victor.“Afrique.”
Steel engraved map, with some added color, 21 x 23 cm.,
set within a larger pictorial framework. (Paris, 1852).

This map, first published in 1845, is a cartographic failure but a decorative delight. Considering its relatively late publication, the map is singularly lacking in geographic detail. Its lavish decoration makes it a throwback to an earlier age of elaborately embellished cartography. In the section above, a French officer presents what may be some form of treaty to an armed Arab, as both Westerners and natives look on with concern. The detailed depiction of fruits, flowers, animals, and landscape vignettes mark this as one of the last great decorative maps ever produced.


Detail From: Hondius, Hendrik, 1597–1651.
“Polus Antarcticus.”
Copperplate map, with added color,
44 cm. in diameter on sheet 44 × 50 cm. (Amsterdam, 1638).

As the geographical accuracy of cartography progressed, the ornamental and decorative aspects slid further and further off the map. Soon, today's functional but uninspiring maps became the norm, perhaps leading us to spend less time consulting them, and more time pretending we have understood their meaning. If the data we got from Mapquest was beautifully illustrated, would we more quickly grasp the content, and spend less of those fuel inefficient hours proudly taking pointless journeys down the road to nowhere? Or would we become so intrigued by the likenesses of the plants, animals, and people inhabiting place we are trying to reach, that we might never arrive at our destination at all?

Monday, January 25, 2010

Famous Authors Drawn Not Quartered

Martin Droeshout's 1623 Engraving Of William Shakespeare.

The purpose of any portrait is to capture the essence of the subject. To somehow convey in a single image not just the outward appearance of the sitter, but his soul. But if the subject is a great writer, does that task become impossible? Poet Ben Jonson thought so, and maybe the curators at Princeton University's Firestone Library do, too.

Those curators have just opened a new exhibit of 100
paintings, drawings, prints, photographs, marble sculptures, and plaster death masks, depicting literary giants. The title of the gallery show is: The Author's Portrait. But the subtitle, O, could he but have drawne his Wit, is loaded with irony. Those words are from a 1623 lament by poet Ben Jonson, published in the First Folio of the works of William Shakespeare. Jonson bemoans the fact that the engraver, Martin Droeshout, cannot possibly capture the genius of Shakespeare in a portrait. He ends with these lines: "Reader, looke, Not on his Picture but his Booke." But the Princeton curators do want viewers to look at the images of authors collected from their Department of Rare Books and Special Collections. So here's a sampling of the exhibit, and readers are invited to decide for themselves if the souls of the writers have been well depicted by the artists.

William Marshall's 1645 Engraving Of John Milton.

This portrait, produced for John Milton's first published book of verse, includes the writer's opinion of his likeness in the caption. Written in ancient Greek--which the artist could not understand--Milton invited the reader to "laugh at the artist's botched attempt" at portraiture.

Martin Droeshout's 1633 Line Engraving of John Donne.

Think this portrait of John Donne looks a bit funereal? The author--perhaps knowing the bell was about to toll for him--showed up wrapped in a burial shroud for the sitting. What's an artist to do but oblige the subject by creating a memento mori?

William Blake's 1803 Engraving Of Author William Cowper. Based On A Pastel Portrait By George Romney.

Today, the artist-poet who made the engraving is by far more well known than the subject. But at the time, William Blake was a hired gun, employed by his patron,William Hayley, to create a frontispiece for his book "The Life and Posthumous Writings of William Cowper." A relative of Cowper's found the Blake's initial attempt at the portrait so poor she begged Hayley never to allow it to be shown in public. Apparently this version passed muster, but Hayley and Blake eventually had such a bitter falling out over paid commissions that Hayley wrote: "Blake appeared to me on the verge of insanity."

William Finden's 1839 Engraving Of Charles Dickens, Based On A Painting by Daniel Maclise, And Published In The Life and Adventures Of Nicholas Nickleby.

Charles Dickens was a notoriously difficult portrait subject, and literally tore apart Finden's work time after time until he was satisfied. The author was later quoted as saying: "There are only two styles of portrait painting, the serious and the smirk." It is unknown into which category Dickens placed this particular image.

Rackell's 1938 Pastel Of George Bernard Shaw.

This last one is a real head scratcher. Not only do the Firestone Library's curators not know what playwright George Bernard Shaw thought of the caricature, as of August 2009 they hadn't identified the artist. On August 17, 2009 the following query was posted on the University's Graphic Arts Blog: "Coming up this winter is an exhibition of author portraits. Included will be this pastel caricature of the Irish playwright G. B. Shaw, created in 1938 by an artist using the pseudonym Rackell. Who is Rackell? This name does not turn up in any of the standard art history sources, or in Shaw biographies. Surely someone out there knows someone who can give us some information on this artist or the making of this drawing?" No comments were left on the blog entry, and since the checklist for this exhibit isn't available online, there's no way of knowing if the curators got an answer without shelling out $17.50 (including shipping and handling) for the printed catalog. If anybody reading this has the information, I'd be grateful if you'd post a comment here and save this curious Book Patrol writer a few bucks.

The Firestone Library's exhibit,The Author's Portrait: O, Could He But Have Drawne His Wit opened on January 22, 2010 and continues through July 5, 2010.

 
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