{art nouveau} – Page 11 – { feuilleton }

Antony Little’s echoes of Aubrey

The Dancer (1967) by Antony Little.

My thanks to Sweet Jane this time for alerting me to her post about a series of Beardsley-inspired illustrations from 1967 by Biba designer Antony Little. The Wandering Jew and Other Stories was the first translation in English of Apollinaire’s 1910 collection L’Hérèsiarque et Cie. I’ve known about this book for a while but few of the illustrations have been on view anywhere until this post. There are eight in all, each of them very adeptly capturing different phases of Beardsley’s drawing style, from the spare black-and-whites to the more detailed renderings seen in his later work. The drawing below is another in the series from a post of Callum’s which also includes a favourite of mine by Beresford Egan.

Little’s designs, and the prominence of the Biba stores, did much to make Art Nouveau in general, and Beardsley in particular, a crucial component of London fashion in the late 1960s. For more on that subject see this Sweet Jane post featuring yet more Beardsley borrowings and monochrome design, plus Osborne & Little’s fantastic Chinese Dragon wallpaper which made a memorable appearance last year in Only God Forgives.

Elsewhere on { feuilleton }
• The Aubrey Beardsley archive
• The illustrators archive

The art of A. Reinheimer

Who was A. Reinheimer? That’s a good question to which I have no answer other than telling you that he or she was an illustrator for German humour periodical Fliegende Blätter circa 1900. These drawings caught my eye for being rare examples of the Art Nouveau style deployed for comedic purposes. The intent was no doubt to poke some fun at the style itself—most of these pictures depict contemporary scenes in the “modern style”—but they’re also good compositions which could easily work as more typical Art Nouveau illustrations if their cartoony qualities were reduced. All the pages are from the University of Heidelberg digital archives which has a complete run of the magazine from 1844–1944.

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More Art Nouveau

The Poetry of József Kiss (1897), design by Nándor Gottermayer.

There’s always more Art Nouveau. Searching for term at the Google Art Project turns up a surprising number of paintings, drawings and other objects which are nothing of the sort, as well as many things which are, of course. These are a selection of the latter (mostly), and a reminder that it’s worth returning to the site every so often to look for new additions. Nándor Gottermayer’s book cover is a gorgeous design I’ve never seen before.

Vase (before 1890) by Émile Gallé.

Flower of Death (1895) by Akseli Gallen-Kallela.

The Offering of Mephistopheles (c.1930) by Roland Paris.

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Bird Gods

Why, I asked myself, should certain birds have been allotted to certain gods and goddesses in the Greek and Roman mythology? Why should the eagle go with Zeus, the peacock with Hera, the dove with Venus, the swan with Apollo, the woodpecker with Ares, the owl with Pallas Athene? It could not be mere chance that so many gods and goddesses had each their attendant bird; the attribution was too regular; it was done too much on a system. What was the original meaning of it all?

Charles de Kay attempts to answer his question in Bird Gods (1898), a study of the mythological and religious import of birds through the ages. Illustrator George Wharton Edwards was an American artist who worked in the Impressionist style when painting but here deliveries a range of bird portraits embellished with bits of imitation Celtic knotwork. The interlacings of Celtic art underwent a resurgence of interest with the development of Art Nouveau. Edwards’ illustrations aren’t the best examples of this (Mucha’s Hamlet poster is much better) but they give an idea of the trend. Browse the rest of De Kay’s book here or download it here.

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Summer

Summer (1896) by Alphonse Mucha.

With the temperature rising inexorably throughout the week—today it hit 30C—it’s been easy to identify with Alphonse Mucha’s languid spirit of summer, and the urge to drape yourself on a branch beside some water. Mucha produced many picture series on different themes, with several attempts at depicting the seasons. This is from the first series in 1896, and is the one I prefer over all the others. The 1903 version deploys all the traditional harvest iconography but also looks much too sedate and overdressed for warm weather; Summer 1896 is suitably enervated and dishevelled. She even looks as though she may be a little horny although it’s unlikely she’d want to do much about that. Her sister spirits may be seen here.