Thursday, September 26, 2019
Sunday, September 22, 2019
A Crowded Life in Comics –
Down the Bunny Trail
Rick Marschall
I have
just returned from the 14th annual Symposium of the Theodore
Roosevelt Center at Dickinson State University. I recently was named their Cartoon
Archivist, as noted here, and indeed the keynote was a “Cartoon-Off,” with the
honorable Clay Jenkinson and myself showing 15 cartoons each, commenting, and
inviting the registrants’ votes.
Among
many things to which my “mind” raced back was not Roosevelt specifically, but
peripherally:
When I
was very young I already had twin obsessions – more than a couple, really – but
two were Roosevelt and vintage cartoons. My mother’s mother was born in New
York City of German parentage. She moved from Manhattan when young and quickly
acquired and never lost a Brooklyn accent. “Berl the water” and “Don’t get boined,”
were such footprints of speech.
Perhaps
her ears were affected, too; or maybe my famously quiet voice, but one day in
the kitchen I wanted to ask if she ever laid eyes on Theodore Roosevelt in her
youth. An “excuse me” and a “what?” and
“speak up” had me repeating “Theodore”… until she thought I was asking if she
attended the theater as a girl.
An
unconscious shift to my second interest. Her face lit up, and she recalled
being taken to a Broadway musical as a girl. It was one of several musical
comedies staged around the pioneer comic-supplement character Foxy Grandpa. She
didn’t remember much about the plot or the songs… but she remembered that there
were moments so funny that a fat man sitting on the aisle laughed and laughed.
“His face
turned so red when he laughed that I thought he was going to pop!” she told me.
So that was tattooed on my memory, too, and through years since I cannot think
of Foxy Grandpa and his two grandsons without thinking of little Augusta Vagt
watching that man almost laugh himself to death.
Foxy
Grandpa commenced
in 1900 in the color pages of the Sunday New York Herald. The artist was
Carl Emil Schultze, who had signed his cartoons in Life magazine with
his surname, but his newspaper work as “Bunny,” often beside a furry
mascot. His other features for the Sunday funnies were random gags or short
strips under the title Vaudevilles, and were collected in a book of that
name.
An
immediate hit was Foxy Grandpa. Its premise was simple – indeed, a
one-gag premise. Oddly enough, the early strips virtually all were variations
on a single joke. Happy Hooligan was a well-meaning tramp whose kindly efforts
backfired. Hans and Fritz would conspire, execute a prank, and be punished. Little
Jimmy was distracted from every errand, with comic results. Buster Brown’s
pranks went awry on their own. Maud the Mule kicked people – usually her owner,
Si – into the next county to assert her dominance. Alphonse and Gaston’s politesse
inevitably resulted in chaos, not order.
… and so
on. In all, a remarkable but ironic foundation for commercial successes and a
viable and pliable art form. Yet such was the early days of the comics. Foxy
Grandpa’s formula was, simply, the mirror-image of the Katzenjammer Kids.
The grandsons plotted a trick on the old boy, who predictably outsmarted them
in the ultimate panel. It is amazing that for almost 20 years the boys were
surprised each week. And each week.
And in
various formats, appearances, books, and Broadway musicals. As far as I have
seen, or remember (having the complete run in the Herald and Hearst’s American
to which he moved amidst much fanfare soon afterward; and ultimately to
Munsey’s Sun) neither Grandpa nor the boys had Christian nor surnames.
Neither “Little Brother” who eventually joined the cast. No intermediate
generation of parents were ever seen, beginning tradition that a homonymic
namesake, Charles, continued. (On stage, Grandpa had a name: Goodelby Goodman;
and the boys were Chub and Bunt.)
I will
share here memorabilia including buttons and songsheets generated by the stage
sensations. Not pages nor reprint-book covers here; maybe later.
“Bunny”
had a sad ending to his life and erstwhile successful career. He died in
poverty in New York City’s West side in 1939, filling his last years with
occasional pages for early comic books, a couple of children’s books, and
drawing sketches of Foxy Grandpa for neighborhood businesses and kids.
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Wednesday, September 18, 2019
Saturday, September 14, 2019
Western Illustrations of Arthur H. Lindberg
Arthur
Harold Lindberg
1895 Born in Worcester, Massachusetts, the
son of an immigrant Swedish Metal Worker.
1909 At 14 years old, worked his first job
at the Goddard works of the Wickwire-Spencer Company, Worcester. (Worked 54
hours a week at 10 cents an hour)
1915
Graduated from high school at the
age of 20, took art classes at the Worcester Art Museum School, then studied at
the Pratt Institute, Brooklyn.
1917 During his senior year at Pratt,
enlisted in the US Air Force and served 14 months in France as a Sergeant-Major
during World War I.
1919-22 After the war, returned to Worcester,
worked at Wickwire-Spencer and resumed evening art classes at the Worcester
Museum School, and then moved to New York City.
1922-30 Studied nights at the Grand Central School
of Art, and the Art Students League of NY, where he was awarded a life
membership for his superior work.
Studied under Harvey Dunn, Dean Cornwell, Frank Vincent Dummond and
George Bridgeman. Worked as a commercial
artist. Became friends with Girard Delano
and a student of Walter Beck, who advised him in making his own pastels.
1927 Married Esther Perry Barlow, who
learned to paint under his tutelage and became and accomplished watercolorist
and was also an award winning quilter.
They moved to Long Island, NY, the new headquarters of Wickwire-Spencer.
1928-29 Illustrated Western Magazines – now
referred to as pulps
1931 Daughter, Perryann born
1933-37 instructor & Registrar at Nassau
Institute of Art
1937-38 Did illustrations for Gulf Oil Company weekly
cartoon strip about the Mayan Indians.
1939 Received BFA at the Pratt institute
1941 Received BE in Art at the Pratt
Institute, and moved to Buffalo, NY.
Took Art Instructors position at Kenmore Senior High School.
1942-43 Worked steel production in the summer in
Western NY factories doing war production.
1944-45 Taught private art classes, did illuminated
scrolls, started doing art restoration of paintings.
1946 Summer study, received MA at Columbia
University
1946-48 Obtained permission from the City of
Buffalo to enter industrial site (previously restricted due to defense work)
and executed a series of fifty paintings.
He found beauty and color even in the blast furnaces of Bethlehem Steel.
1947 One man show at Carl Bredemier
Gallery, Buffalo, “Our Industrial Waterfront”.
Received Frontiersman Award from Buffalo Business Magazine for the time
and effort he had given to the presentation of Buffalo Industrial scenes in oil
paintings.
During the mind 1940’s was
voted into the Buffalo Society of Artists by its members. Exhibited in the society’s membership shows
and served as its president in 1954 and 1955.
Arthur H. Lindberg
devoted his retirement years to art, private art classes, illuminated scrolls, cleaning
and restoration of paintings, commissioned portraits and Fall painting trips to
New England. Increasingly frustrated and
disillusioned by emphasis on and the support of abstract art in the Buffalo Art
Community, he refused to exhibit his work for fear of being misunderstood and
rejected for continuing as a realist in such pro-abstract surroundings.
He was commissioned to do
illuminated scrolls for many groups and people in the Buffalo area. He was especially proud of the scroll which
was presented in 1955 to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth of England.
Art was active with the
Buffalo Society of Artists and was president for a couple of years. He sketched with Art Kowalski, Bill Ludecke
and Walter Prochoniak.
Art painted in oil,
watercolors and pastel. He loved to
include water in his paintings and was drawn to the shipyards in New England,
as well as the waterfront in Buffalo.
Another series of his paintings represented the area around Stowe, VT
with its’ brilliant fall color.
1953 Did independent study in Sweden and
Denmark, and was included in Who’s Who of American Artists.
1977 Died in Kenmore, NY.
1980 Retrospective show at AAO Gallery,
Buffalo, NY.
1982 One man show, “Beauty in Buffalo
Industry”, held at the International Institute, Buffalo.
1984 Included in exhibit “Buffalo
Waterfront”, at the Charles Burchfield Center, State University College at
buffalo, Buffalo, NY.
1987 Included in exhibit and catalogue “The
Wayward Muse: A Historical Survey of Paintings in Buffalo”, The Albright-Knox
Art Gallery, Buffalo, NY.
1987-88 One man show of industrial paintings of
Buffalo’s waterfront, Linda Hyman Gallery, NY City, NY.
1988 Retrospective exhibit of drawings,
watercolors, pastels, lithographs and oil from 1916 to the late 1960’s, at Art
Dialogue Gallery, Buffalo, New York.
2009 Six of Arthur H. Lindberg’s pieces are
in the Burchfield Penney Collection, Burchfield Penney Art Center, Buffalo, NY
and one piece is in the permanent collection of the Albright-Knox Art Gallery,
Buffalo, NY.
[3]
[4]
[5]
[6]
[7]
[8]
[9]
[10]
[11]
[12]
[13]
[14]
[15]
[16]
[17]
[18]
[19]
[20]
[21]
[22]
[23]
[24] Mimi and Papa
[25]
[26] Shields & Co. Mural
[27] Courtyard Art Show
[28] Richard Nixon Scroll
[29] Arthur H. Lindberg Article Pg. 1
[30] Restoration Before and After
Previous Post:
Cartoonist Arthur H. Lindberg (“Lyndell”) and Gulf Funny Weekly
Arthur H. Lindberg’s Gulf Funny Weekly comics and artwork
have been donated to Ohio State University
Special thanks to Pam H.
⚪
Sunday, September 8, 2019
A Crowded Life in Comics –
A Mock Feud In the Pages of Puck.
by Rick Marschall.
Show
business, sports, and politics are replete with stories of feuds. I say
“stories of feuds” because many of them are manufactured for the public’s attention
if not enjoyment. There are, of course, bitter and long-running rivalries that
have poisoned the wells of comity, certainly within families. In other spheres
of life, self-interest or self-preservation usually triumph.
The old
Jack Benny-Fred Allen “feud” attracted listeners and gossip for years, but the
radio comedians were friends. Likewise W C Fields and Charlie McCarthy; but it
is difficult to stay angry at a piece of wood for too long.
And we
remember Ralph Kramden’s threat (in The Honeymooners) to a momentary
opponent: “When I see you walking down the street, move to the other side!” And
Norton’s response: “When you walk down the street, there ain’t no
other side!” Somehow the perfect squelch, the mot juste, resonates more
than love lines do.
In the
supposedly staid Victorian Era, there was an example of “inside jokes,”
sarcasm, camaraderie, and a mock feud that is funny today. I will share brief
details here.
Puck Magazine commenced as an
English-language weekly in 1877, a few months after founder Joseph Keppler
launched the German-language edition. It became America’s first successful
humor magazine, although dozens had existed, with varied acceptance, since the
1840s. Puck featured lithographic color cartoons – an attractive wrinkle
– on its front, back, and middle-spread pages; usually political themes. The
bulk of the cartoon work, including black and white social cartoons on interior
pages, soon fell to Frederick Burr Opper.
Opper
(1857-1937) was a workhorse of incredible talent and native humor who followed
Keppler from Leslie’s Weekly, and known to comics fans today as the
creator of many seminal comic strips around the turn of the century into the
1930s (Happy Hooligan, etc).
Almost
from the beginning, the fecund H C Bunner was the mainstay of Puck’s
editorial columns. He wrote the paper’s editorials and provided ideas to
cartoonists; he signed poems and funny stories, and contributed many anonymous
works; he recruited and trained a host of talented humorists for the succeeding
generation. Unjustly neglected and forgotten today, Bunner was a master of the
short story in the manner of Frank Stockton (another forgotten genius). The
American short story of the day was a wonderful genre, now scarcely
commemorated by limp rose petals tossed toward O Henry and Saki, but whose
ranks were populated by clever writers like Bunner.
Many of
Bunner’s books were in fact collected short stories originally written for Puck,
and illustrated by Opper (and, chiefly, by C J Taylor).
In 1884,
amidst the fury of the nation’s most contentious Presidential election,
Cleveland vs Blaine, Opper and Bunner conducted a sideshow for readers through
a mock feud. The national election was in fact mightily influenced by the
“Tattooed Man” cartoons in Puck, depicting the Republican Blaine
stripped to his skin, on which was festooned his many political scandals and
sins.
The
editorial fusillades that season mostly were Bunner’s, but the cartoons were
Keppler’s, Opper’s, and Bernhard Gillam’s. Opper, relatively young, drew
cartoons that sometimes were less than polished. In a letters column – “Answers
For the Anxious,” probably manufactured
within the offices – notice was taken of an awkward cartoon by Opper of
politicians attempting to stop a water wheel at a mill.
Puck’s reply (surely written by
Bunner) thanked the reader but also criticized his spelling and grammar. Opper
the cartoonist, however, was defended with faint praise.
In the
next issue, “the artist” responded, angrier at the Editorial Office’s weak endorsement
than of the critical reader. And the following week, the Editor shot back in
mock dudgeon, stating that it was barely worth the time to wallow in matters concerning
mere mortals – cartoonists. In subsequent weeks Opper fired his shots through
cartoons more than words.
It was
grand fun. Claiming the dignity of an Oxford Union debate, it spilled itself
before readers like a barroom brawl. As I say, grand fun – no reader would have
thought otherwise. But, again, in the stuffy Victorian era, such entre-nous
peeks behind the curtain of kidding and elbow-poking sarcasm was rare. Still
fun.
Some day,
somewhere, I will reprint all the exchanges, insults, and mock threats. Here,
however, Opper’s drawing of the theatrical “truce.” Naturally, he cannot keep himself
from depicting H C Bunner (with fair accuracy, trademark cigarette and pince-nez
specs) as a coiled viper; and himself as
an artiste crowned with a laurel wreath.
Original art
from my collection, first the half-finished pencil sketch; and the “finish” as
it appeared in the happy pages of Puck through the Summer and Fall of
1884.
RM 52