Showing posts with label Eadweard Muybridge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Eadweard Muybridge. Show all posts

Monday, October 14, 2024

THE ANTECEDENTS, RELATIVES, FOREBEARS, COUSINS, AND GODPARENTS OF THE COMIC STRIP

 
... THAT IS, THE HISTORY OF THE KINETOGRAPH, KINETOSCOPE, AND KINETO-PHONOGRAPH.

Whew. A project on which I have worked for years -- whether it will be a book or several volumes, ultimately; or articles in NEMO Magazine and here in Yesterday's Papers -- will trace representational art and the written/printed word and how their functions originally were conjoined; their separation at Gutenberg's hands; and how myriad experiments, creations, inventions, even toys, reconciled the these modes of expression.

And how those expressions were manifest in the comic strip, the cinema, and the animated cartoon. Interesting to me (and confirming the evolutionary imperative that was at work) is that, at least in the United States, these three disciplines largely came into existence in a period of a half-dozen years... in a few-square-mile space in Manhattan... and except for only one or two people, by people who neither worked together nor knew each other. Remarkable, really.

The story is not of mere synchronous events and coincidences. The results of the very exciting experiments are fascinating -- inheriting the culture's patrimony of what Prof E H Gombrich called the psychology of pictorial representation; varying degrees of sophistication when story and art partnered their wares; and (what I think is an essential component) the role of commerce, business, and profiteering in their development. Commercial factors were inspirations, enablers, and wet-nurses to these art forms that both mirrored and defined Western Civilization of the 20th century. 

Thomas Edison played a part, as he did in many spheres of life, but so did others associated with him. Typically, these people did not always receive credit (hence, the man you will meet, and his sister, in a moment)... or, largely had their contributions copied, denigrated, or outright stolen. The Patent wars often were hilarious; and the slander, or worse, endured by people like Eadweard Muybridge and Nikola Tesla is sad.

The stories of the early contraptions of Edison and his assistants are fascinating. The Wizard of Menlo Park was a gifted inventor, yet his motivations frequently were commercial -- not impulses that are mutually exclusive. But his priorities were displayed in efforts like his (failed) obsessive pursuit of a substitute for butter, and artificial mother-of-pearl. Many of his dreams and experiments were devoted to exploiting his phonograph. The motion picture (in his mind) would somehow expand the appeal, and profitability, of the phonograph. And when motion pictures themselves were developed, Edison resisted theatrical projection, believing that greater profits would be realized by "peep shows" -- coins dropped into single-person devices.

As the industry grew, in the hands of inevitable rivals, his rejection of theater-projection slowed him... but he caught up with a vengeance, and became a major producer of movies and movie stars in the first years of the form. 

The history's cast of characters is as interesting as any primitive cliff-hangers (often filmed in Fort Lee NJ, the "first Hollywood") --  Muybridge; the cartoonist and film pioneer J Stuart Blackton; Albert E Smith; Grey Latham (one of cartoonist Rose O'Neill's husbands) and... world-wide readers take note, I am well aware of parallel developments, particularly in France at this time; I am focusing on the American aspects of this creative revolution. But an assistant of Edison named William K L Dickson was responsible for many innovations claimed by and developed by Edison.

Dickson (1860-1935) was a Scottish-American inventor whose work for Edison was fecund and entreprenurial... perhaps too ambitious for him to want to remain under Edison's wings. But before he left Edison to pursue his own movie concepts and inventions and partnerships, around 1895, Dickson was either grateful enough, or hero-worshiping, or wily, to kiss up to the Wizard of Menlo Park.

In an article in The Century monthly magazine, subsequently printed as a slim book, Dickson -- or rather his sister Antonia, who was a better writer and promoter -- explained to laymen the theory of moving pictures (we learned of it as persistence-of-motion), the technical challenges of photographing action, the challenge of inventing cameras and projectors, the need of malleable film, etc. He praised Thomas Alva Edison to the skies; and Edison wrote a commendation of Dickson, and himself.

I reproduce here the cover of my copy of his book, printed in 1895. For all of its persiflage and self-promotion, it is a remarkable record the challenges, experiments, solutions, and technical variations undertaken by Edison, Dickson, and others in the 1880s and '90s. Shortly after publishing his paeans and promos, Dickson left Edison's employ and worked with varying degrees of success and accomplishment, on the fringes of the emerging industry.

Meanwhile, across town so to speak, other inventive people were doing with drawings what Edison and Company were doing with photographs -- comic strips in newspapers, and animated drawings on film and in flip-books.

Beneath the cover is a link to the Dicksons' entire short book, a PDF with illustrations including the methodical frame-by-frame sequences of humans and animals in motion. 


       

https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=mdp.39015002595158&seq=62            

Friday, September 6, 2024

Frost Bite

In the Early Days of cartooning and illustration's Golden Era, there were a fair number of A.B.s -- A B Frost; A B Shults; A B Walker, A B Wenzell; and I suppose we can add the vintage comic-strip character Abie the Agent.

We will spend a moment here and tip our YP hat to Arthur Burdett Frost. He was an artist whose immense talents and achievements arguably are the most neglected of American cartooning's pivotal figures. He certainly was a major progenitor of the comic strip format, both experimenting and codifying the language and structure of graphic narration.

If Frost was not the father of the American comic strip, he must be recognized as a godfather, a major branch on the family tree, a prophet who entered the Promised Land he espied.


 An early version of A B Frost's most famous "series," drawn in the late 1870s. "A Fatal Mistake -- The Tale of a Cat" was redrawn in 1884 (detail below), showing the unfortunate cat eating rat poison. 


He lived between 1851 and 1928, literally spanning -- and often dominating -- the fields of illustration and cartooning otherwise identified with F O C Darley and Frank Bellew through to Norman Rockwell and John Held, Jr. He studied under the great painters Thomas Eakins and William Merritt Chase; he illustrated a Christian (Swedenborgian) novel written by his sister and then scored a national sensation with hundreds of spot illustrations for Out Of the Hurly-Burly by Max Adeler; he joined the staff of the Daily Graphic, America's first illustrated daily newspaper; he drew for many magazines including Puck, Life, Scribner's, Collier'sHarper's Weekly and Harper's Monthly; and he illustrated more than a hundred books.

Frost was not merely prolific; many cartoonists and illustrators manage to keep busy. It seemed that everything he touched was significant. The authors whose works he illustrated were among the most prominent of his day: Mark Twain; H C Bunner; Frank Stockton; Theodore Roosevelt; Thomas Bailey Aldrich. He illustrated two of Lewis Carroll's books in the wake of the latter's Alice successes. If Frost never had drawn humorous illustrations and strips he would be remembered today for his hunting and wildlife work. Or, perhaps, his gouache paintings of rural life. Or, certainly, his classic folklore and ethnic themes as exemplified in illustrations for the Uncle Remus stories; their author Joel Chandler Harris paid tribute to Frost in one of the books, "you have taken it under your hand... The book was mine but now you have made it yours." The US Golf Association was founded in 1894, and Frost was an early addict of the links; his many drawings, illustrations, and books helped popularize the sport.


But a special mention must be made here of Frost's contributions to the development of the comic strip. In (primarily) the back pages of the "literary monthlies" Harper's, The Century, and Scribner's, Frost drew what were called "series," not termed strips, in the 1880s and '90s. It is possible that these multi-panel cartoons were fashioned in order to accomodate the advertisements between which they were nestled; or perhaps they were designed to encourage readers not to neglect those ad pages.

It is more likely that Frost's multi-panel strips were an organic outgrowth of his desire to tell stories -- freeing himself from staid depictions of moments in time. The great Punch cartoonists in England invariably drew frozen images with lengthy multi-line dialogue underneath; Frost was about presenting unfolding action. And "action" was his watchword. In his series there was movement, agitation, motion, perfervid activity. These tendencies virtually dictated that a story would progress from panel to panel, bursting the confines of a single image.

Regarding the "animation" in Frost's art, it is clear that he was inspired by the photographic experiments of the eccentric genius Eadweard Muybridge, whose studies of human and animal figures in motion -- captured in thousands of images like isolated frames of motion pictures -- largely were financed by Leland Stanford and published in several weighty volumes. In the course of things, Frost flawlessly captured shadows, correctly understood anatomy, and composed his scenes as arrestingly as did any fine artist.

It was "fine art" that lured him to France and away from his pen-work and myriad thematic preoccupations between 1906 and 1914. He was charmed by the Impressionists -- who wouldn't be? -- and despite his color-blindness he painted among the masters around Giverny, hoping to capture their "feel." Ironically, Frost met one mode of expression he could not master. His attempts at oil-on-canvas Impressionism was flat and uninspired. He returned to the United States, drew some series but mostly panel cartoons in pen and ink, especially for Life in the '20s. He died in 1928 in Pasadena CA.

There is much to share of A B Frost's impressive work; and we shall, perhaps category by his various categories, in days to come. As I have said, his "series" heralded the birth of the comic strip; as precursors they usually were pantomimic, and when he employed dialog it was in traditional typeset captions, not speech balloons. But the early signs of Frost all pointed to graphic excellence and comic strips.    




Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Four Watercolors by Walter M. Dunk



by John Adcock

Walter M. Dunk was born in Philadelphia in 1855. In the 70s he attended the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts where he was a pupil of Thomas Eakins. By 1882 he was president of the Philadelphia Sketch Club, a director of the Philadelphia Art Club, and ‘prominent in the literary circles of the Quaker City.’ About 1890 he inherited $100,000. 

[1] Watercolor painting, January 28, 1885.
As author-illustrator, in addition to his watercolor painting, Dunk contributed ‘serials’ (strip cartoons) to the Harper Brothers chain of magazines. Examples of his comic work are HERE and HERE. Thomas Eakins had taught his students about motion photography, following the example of Eadweard Muybridge. He used a zoetrope in his classes, a cylindrical device which animated photographs. Muybridge was very influential on 19th century comic strip artists and Dunk, via Eakins, could probably be added to the list of the influenced. See ‘Muybridge and the Comic Strip’ HERE and HERE.

[2] Watercolor painting, November 2, 1886.
In 1886 Dunk married Eleanore Gilmore, one of his models. It is possible she was the model for some of these paintings. The couple divorced in 1891 (see ‘She was an Adventuress’ HERE) and Dunk then married Laura V.M.H. Dunk and lived in Rye, New York, Westchester County. The date of Dunk’s death is unknown and may have happened overseas. Research by the owner of the paintings turned up the death of one Walter Dunk in 1925 in West Redding, Yorkshire, England.

[3] Watercolor painting.
Dunk illustrated The Goddess of Atvatabar; being the history of the discovery of the interior world, and conquest of Atvatabar by William R. Bradshaw, New York: J.F. Douthitt, 1892. In 1893 he illustrated All or Nothing, a novel based on the assassination of Alexander II, from the Russian of Count Nepomuk Czapski, published by Robert Bonner and Sons.

These four beautiful watercolors are from the collection of Catherine Pape, who generously offered to share them with Yesterday’s Papers readers. The paintings are for sale, anyone with an interest can send me an email for contact details.

[4] Watercolor painting, Bushkill, 1892.
[5] Down in Bom-Bombay, sheet music cover, 1892.
[6] Dunk’s initials, 1886.
[7] Dunk’s signature, 1885.
[8] Bird Lore, Vol. 718, 1915-16.
[9] ‘Art in the Quaker City,’ illustration in The Continent, Vol. 3, No. 1, Jan. 3, 1883, p.14.
[10] ‘The Goddess of Atvatabar,’ 1892.
Detail of watercolor [4].

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Muybridge and the Comic Strip II



A British cartoon by George Roller from Pick-Me-Up, 1890, which is indebted to the motion-photography of Muybridge. Roller's illustrations appeared in Pall Mall Magazine during the nineties. See also Muybridge and the Comic Strip HERE.



Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Muybridge and the Comic Strip


While cartoonists A. B. Frost and Henry Stull left undeniable proof of their indebtedness to the work of Eadweard Muybridge others were less obvious about his influence on their comic strip work. One way of identifying Muybridge influence is by imagining that an animator’s in-betweener could fill in the spaces between actions to create a free-flowing cinematic animation. Charles Green Bush’s “At the Photographer’s,” HERE, is a case in point. The cartoon above by Frederick Burr Opper, “Some Studies of a Character Artist at Work,” was published in Puck 30 November, 1887.

Eadweard Muybridge’s photographs of humans and animals in motion made a world-wide stir in scientific and artistic circles and he went on the lecture circuit to explain his earth-shaking discoveries with the aid of a zoopraxiscope, which an English writer described as “a magic lantern run mad.” On 18 November 1882 Muybridge lectured on “The Romance and Reality of Animal Motion” for a packed house in a show sponsored by the New York Turf Club.

He illustrated his lecture by projecting his stationary photographs on a canvas screen and afterward, as a New York Times columnist wrote, “displayed the figure of the animal, first at a walk across the canvas, then pacing, cantering, galloping, and even jumping the hurdle. The effect was true to life, and the spectator could almost believe that he saw miniature horses with their riders racing across the screen.” He followed up with animations of a running bull, a goat, a deer, and a man, all walking, running, jumping, and in the case of the man, turning somersaults.

The first silent movie, “The Great Train Robbery,” was not produced until 1903, and the first animated cartoon was J. Stuart Blackton’s “Humorous Phases of Funny Faces,” in 1906, but comic strip artists were already anticipating animation in work done in the 1880’s and 1890's.

Below is another Frederick Burr Opper cartoon on caricature from Scribner’s circa 1883.




See also part II HERE

Sunday, March 28, 2010

Charles G. Bush and the Comic Strip


“While drawing weekly cartoons for the New York Telegram Bush made a few hits that brought him fame. One of these was his “Klondike,” a powerful sermon against the lust for gold which even the religious papers copied. Then he gave David B. Hill the little hat with its big streamer reading “I am a Democrat.” Being well read in the classics, Bush draws upon history and mythology for characters and settings, while the main idea of the cartoon is often developed in a chance conversation or even worked up after the artist sits down to his task with the feeling that something must be done. “Study, appreciation, and hard work” is his stereotyped advice to beginners who burn for fame and yearn for emoluments around the art sanctums of the New York press.” -- Cartoonists of America. The Funny Fellows who Furnish Pictorial Political Sermons to the Newspapers. Dubuque Sunday Herald, 21 October 1900.

Charles Green Bush, a contemporary of Homer Davenport’s, was born in Boston in 1842. He began contributing political cartoons to Harper’s Weekly in the 1870’s and in 1875 studied art in Paris with Léon Bonnat, the portrait painter before returning to New York in 1879 to continue at the Weekly. Both Harper's Weekly and Harper's Magazine were pioneers in the early use of sequential art in America, most importantly in the work of A. B. Frost.

Bush was not known for his comic strip work but in 1890 he drew a series of comics for Harper’s Weekly that show the influence of A. B. Frost, and, in the case of the animated ‘baseball’ strip, probably Eadweard Muybridge, whose photographic studies in human and animal locomotion (1878) had a seminal influence on both the cinema and the comic strip.

Charles Green Bush (1842-1909) illustrated Canadian writer James De Mille's novel The Lady of the Ice (1870), Adeline Dutton Train's Faith Gartney's Girlhood, (1891), and Rhoda Thornton's Girlhood by Mary E. Pratt.(1874). In his book The Political Cartoon, Charles Press argues that the first use of Uncle Sam in a cartoon was by Charles Green Bush on February 6, 1869 in Harper's Weekly, as Frank Weitenkampf showed in "Uncle Sam Through The Years : A Cartoon Record, Annotated List and Introduction," an unpublished manuscript in the New York Public Library, 1949, 24 pg. By 1900 Press states Bush was known as the "dean of American Political cartooning."





Top to Bottom: Harper's Weekly, 30 August, 1890, 25 January 1890, 27 September 1890.

See also A Master Cartoonist HERE