You know you're an artist when ...

... you find your work posted somewhere, without your knowledge.

I was doing a random Google search tonight, because I wanted to show a friend how I was intending on doing an illustration (hopefully tonight's Daily Sketch Edit: Daily Sketch is here.); namely, in the style of David Macaulay.

The image I had in mind was from his amazing book Great Moments in Architecture, specifically plate XXIV, "Homage to the Revolving Door."

I had, many years ago, done several studies of Mr. Macaulay's work, particularly the way he depicted miniature people in his drawings of architecture (rather like Piranesi's etchings, wherein the structures are so massive that the people are reduced to stick-like blobs), and had done a drawing from that particular plate.

In amongst the bad Facebook photos and other unrelated things the Google search pulled up, I found this image:

It was the one I was looking for! So I opened it in a new tab and then got a look at the actual name of the image ... no wonder it looked familiar: it was the self-same study I had done years ago [originally posted here.], now used on a blog about (I think) the revolving door feeling of the American Health Care system [or somesuch. This is the site—if you go, I recommend turning your sound down/off, as the author has music embedded].

I'm not mad, and actually thought the whole affair was rather hilarious. Though in retrospect, it is a little unnerving how easy it is for one's work to be re-purposed like that, with no credit given, no permission asked. And, of course, it's not even the original work. At least I make plain the fact that my drawing is a copy, an exercise.

It's amazing what you can find on the internet.

David Macaulay's website
My original post.
His book: Great Moments in Architecture
Wikipedia's entry on Piranesi

On the end of an era...

Well, it's over. The last Harry Potter movie. Granted, it was over in 2007 when the final book was published, but there's something different about the Potter movies.

More than Lord of the Rings (8 movies is more than 3), more than Star Wars (because there was so much of a gap—in time as well as style and story—between the two trilogies), the Harry Potter series created a world with rules. Especially as the visual technology improved (just compare the quality of special effects in HP1 to those in HP7pt2), it was a world in which we came to expect certain things.

Stairways shifted, paintings were alive (and that's an idea I particularly love), space was malleable to an almost-cartoony sense (see the Room of Requirement), other people's memories could be experienced first-hand, and even typography was mobile.

It was a world rich in history (as clearly emphasized by the thick layering of paint on Ollivanders) and full of life. I will miss exploring the halls of Hogwarts, wondering where the next secret panel or hidden doorway will be.

If nothing else, it was immersive. I'll miss it.

p.s. I did like the books better, but there's something to be said for seeing the worlds you've read about.

Books I've Read: J.C. Leyendecker

J.C.Leyendecker by Laurence S. Cutler & Judy Goffman Cutler

This was easily one of the best art history books I've ever read, thanks—in no small part—to the massive amount of "pretty pictures" contained therein. For example, the book collects every one (or very nearly so) of Leyendecker's 322 Saturday Evening Post covers, ranging from 1889 to 1986 (published posthumously, of course). But, aside from the wealth of illustration depicting Leyendecker's finished work and preliminary sketches, the book also contains a well-written text documenting the artist's life and struggles.

Yes, Leyendecker was not only gay, but lived with one of his models—the Arrow Collar Man, Charles Beach—from the 20s until Leyendecker's death in 1951. In their early years together, they lived a lavish life that can easily be seen in Leyendecker's paintings of fabulously graceful women and haughty, confident men (as well as being the inspiration for The Great Gatsby).

But what really comes through in the text and illustrations is a sense of Leyendecker the artist. While there was a "Leyendecker style," he always seemed to come up with a new twist on a problem: one need look no farther than his magazine covers, each one different, no matter the holiday. It is Leyendecker we have to thank for the icons of Thanksgiving turkey and football, for the baby New Year, for Santa in red and white, for the way in which nearly every American holiday is observed (especially by way of greeting cards).

And that's what makes a good book: learning something new. I highly recommend this text to anyone with an interest in the history of American culture, or advertising, or illustration. It chronicles the life and times of one of the greatest forgotten artists of the Golden Age of American illustration, and best of all, shows his sketches and works-in-progress, allowing us a peek into his techniques.

This is definitely going on my bookshelf.

Available on Amazon: here.

Typographical Thursday

One of the things that really energizes me about being a designer is all the cool type I run across now and then. The work of Alphabet Soup (created by designer and illustrator Michael Doret) is truly wonderful, a blend of early twentieth century nostalgia with present day digital sensibilities. Most of the typefaces he has created are packed with alternates, swashes, ligatures, that give them a hand-lettered feeling.

But what is truly astounding are the sample posters he has created for his typefaces:

What can I say but that I really want these faces now! A testament to what can be done with a little ingenuity, and a lot of design sensibility.


Alphabet Soup on MyFonts.com here.
Michael Doret's portfolio site here.