100 Years of Illustration

Frank Millet: An Appreciation

Portrait of a Russian peasant. from Through the Caucasus. written by Ralph Meeker.

As competent as these drawings are, Frank Millet was every bit as good a writer as he was an illustrator. In fact, he wrote articles and stories which he did not illustrate. There were other times when his illustrations appeared in stories written by others. The portraits are a case in point. Obviously, Millet had travelled to the Caucasus but whether it was in the company of the writer is not known. A search on the Internet for Ralph Meeker will only turn up links to the well-known actor of Hollywod films and the Broadway stage.

The Cornell Library online has the articles by Meeker in two parts that appeared in the April and the May 1887 issue of Harper’s New Monthly Magazine.

Portrait of a Russian Jew.

As Henry James has written of Frank Millet,

“. . . . he sent striking sketches from the East, as well as capital prose to the journals I have mentioned. He has always been as capable of writing a text for his own sketches as of making sketches for the text of others. He has made pictures without words and words without pictures. He has written some very clever ghost stories, and drawn and painted some very recognizable realities. [Millet exhibited paintings at the Royal Academy exhibition of 1888 in London.] . . . .

Millet's 1877 portrait of author Samuel L. Clemens (Mark Twain). Clara Clemens Gabrilowitsch donated the portrait to the Hannibal, Missouri Free Public Library. Photo courtesy of Dave Thomson.

“He knows the art schools of the Continent, the studios of Paris, the ‘dodges’ of Antwerp [we can only guess what that means], the subjects, the models of Venice, and has had much aesthetic as well as much personal experience.

Portrait of a young Circassian woman.

Portrait of a Circassian.

“He has draped and distributed Greek plays at Harvard, as well as ridden over the Balkans to post pressing letters, and invented English villages [Broadway, one can assume from the title of the article] where susceptible Americans may get the strongest sensations with the least trouble to themselves. . . .”

“Springing from a very old New England stock, he has found the practice of art a wonderful antidote, in his own language, ‘for belated Puritanism.’ He is very modern, in the sense of having tried many things and availed himself of all of the facilities of his time . . . . he is a striking example of what the typical American quality can achieve. . . .”

A bit jingoistic, and predictably said for an American popular press. However flowery, it was appropriate for the time when it was common for a dozen words to do the work of two or three.

Millet's home was in the town of East Bridgewater, Massachusetts, a village not historically significant since 1676 when Capt. Benjamin Church and its plucky citizenry drove the marauding Metacom (King Philip) out from the town to be eventually captured and slain to end the bloodiest war in colonial history.

Frank Millet's life ended abruptly on 15 April 1912 as a first-class passenger on Titanic when it struck an iceberg in the North Atlantic enroute home to the United States. His body was recovered and logged as No. 249, male, estimated age 65, hair-grey. His remains are buried at East Bridgewater Central Cemetery.

We are indebted to Encyclopedia Titanica (www.encyclopedia-titanica.org) for this information and that which follows.

In a letter to a friend, posted at Queenstown (now Cobh) Ireland, he described his fellow passengers in the same manner he reported skirmishes in a war:

"Queer lot of people on the ship. There are a number of obnoxious, ostentatious American women, the scourge of any place they infest and worse on shipboard than anywhere."

"Many of them carry tiny dogs, and lead husbands around like pet lambs."

However, he was last seen on deck giving up his life preserver to women passengers.

Next: Norman Rockwell's Pretty Women

Frank Millet: War Artist and Writer II

In Ambush is the title of this page illustration (click on image to enlarge) from Campaigning with the Cossacks that appeared in the January 1887 issue of Harper's New Monthly Magazine. The drawing was from an adventure that had taken place ten years earlier when Millet joined Cossacks fighting Turks in the last Russian-Turkish War.

In the second article which appeared in the February 1887 issue of the magazine, Millet illustrates the capture of a plump and reluctant Turkish officer. Click on image to enlarge.

This drawing (click on image to enlarge) appeared in the January issue entitled A Mortal wound.

Click on image to enlarge this final drawing on the last page of Campaigning with the Cossacks-II.

Next: Frank Millet: An Appreciation.

Frank Millet: War Artist and Writer I

Cossacks raiding a Turkish village. The illustration shows Cossacks using their lances to search for Turks hidden in their dwellings.

These illustrations are from Millet's illustrated article entitled: Campaigning with the Cossacks: I. A Summer Campaign, that was published in Harper's Monthly Magazine for January 1887. Millet begins his narrative with:

"A close acquaintance with the Cossacks lasting for nearly a year, the friendship of many of their officers which a lapse of nearly tn years has scarcely weakened, an intimate knowledge of their peculiarities of temperament, character, and modes of life, all had their origin in a little incident at the beginning of the Turkish War. . . .

"During one of the frequent duels of artillery and infantry between the hostile entrenchments on opposite sides of the lower Danube in the month of June, 1877, curiosity and a mild love of adventure tempted me into an isolated, detached post, where my only companions for the whole day were a major of Cossacks and two of his men. . . ." And the extraordinary tale goes on. For more about Cossacks, click on this link, which contains their music as well.

An enlarged view of Millet's great draftsmanship. I doubt if he had a camera along with him in 1877. The figures are stiff enough to suggest a photographic source but my guess would be that he drew the horsemen individually and then worked the sketches into the finished drawing.

Click on image to enlarge. Millet: "One fat Turkish officer on a pony much too feeble to carry the weight on his back made frantic endeavors to escape, and one of the major's orderlies started in sharp pursuit. . . but instead of drawing his carbine he swung his lariat around his head in true Mexican style, lassoed the Turk, and dismounted him. The pony was left for me to catch. . . ."

You may read the entire article by linking to this site:
Cornell Library.

Next: More campaigning with the Cossacks.

Frank Millet: Denmark and Northern Germany

In direct contrast to Frank Millet's spirited drawings as a war artist and writer, the following four illustrations are examples of Millet as travel writer and illustrator. The articles appeared in Harper's New Monthly Magazine for April, May and June of 1885 in articles entitled A Wild Goose Chase I, II, and III. I have only been able to access links to the April and June issues at Cornell's online library where you may view the entire articles with corresponding illustrations.

Skagen Fisher-Girls was published in the May issue that dealt with Millet's travels in Denmark. (For some unknown reason it doesn't appear in the May issue of Cornell's collection, though my copy is imprinted Vol. LXX-No. 420 and the April issue Vol. LXX-No. 419. These volume numbers may help you track down the May article somewhere, should you be that interested.)

Flower Girls of Vierlande from the third instalment in the June issue is not any more lively than the fisher-girls. It's typical of the genre painting of the time and Millet seems as capable as any of his peers but just as lukewarm about his subjects. The production process of the time required that these drawings be adapted for printing by an engraver who prevented the printed work from being an actual reproduction made directly from the illustration. I suspect that engravers were better at engraving than they were at drawing. Certainly the faces in fisher-girls are just this side of awful, the faces above better but not recognizable as Millet's drawing style.

In this case we have a reproduction from a pen-and-ink drawing by Millet (also in the June issue) with no intervention by an engraver. Millet's craftsmanship is evident and his attention to detail considerable but the pose is boring and the drawing without any tension created by blacks and whites playing off each other.

An enlargement from Friendly Call Personally, I think Millet was bored with the assignment. I feel he would much rather be covering a battle in an alien and exotic land.

Click on image to enlarge this pen drawing entitled A Rope-walk which depicts a Vierlande maid crafting rope in the traditional way. It's one of the most interesting of Millet's illustrations in the series of articles but it could also be described as a dull pose.

Next: Frank Millet as war artist and writer.

Frank Millet: An Introduction by Henry James

Portrait of Frank Millet by his contemporary, author and illustrator George Du Maurier, from Harper's New Monthly Magazine for June 1889.

Francis Davis (Frank) Millet was born in Mattapoisett, Massachusetts, on 3 November 1846 and died by drowning on board the Titanic, when it sank after hitting an iceberg in the North Atlantic, on 15 April 1912. He served as a drummer boy, and later as assistant to his surgeon father, in the American Civil War. He was a brilliant student at Harvard, later a reporter and city editor for a Boston newspaper. He then decided to devote himself to art and enrolled at the Royal Academy of Fine Arts in Antwerp, Belgium, where he won silver and gold medals for his work.

Millet couldn't resist the adventure of covering the Russian-Turkish war for the American and British press. He was decorated by the Russian and Rumanian governments for his bravery under fire and for treating the battlefield wounded. Eventually his illustrated accounts were published by Harper's New Monthly Magzine.

Herewith, in the same publication, are comments about Millet by the distinguished author and expatriate, Henry James (1843-1916):

"It is characteristic of Mr. Frank Millet's career, with opposites so much mingled in it, that such work as he has done for these pages should have had as little in common as possible with midland English scenery. [James had written 'Our Artists in Europe' in which he described the picturesque village of Broadway where Millet had taken a cottage.] . . . There was a time when he drew little else but Cossacks and Orientals, and drew them as one who had good cause to be vivid.

Cossack Types. Individual sketches probably drawn from life. Click on image to enlarge.

Of the young generation he was the first to know the Russian plastically, especially the Russian soldier, and he had paid heavily for his acquaintance. During the Russo-Turkish war he was correspondent in the field (with the victors) of the New York Herald and the London Daily News– a capacity in which he made many out-of-the-way, many precious, observations. . . ."

The entire article by Henry James may be uploaded at this link:
Our Artists in Europe

More to follow.

Ludwig Hohlwein: An Appreciation

This is my favorite Hohlwein. Click on the image to enlarge it. I love it because of the design of the piece and the exquisite illustration, the restraint he used in dropping in the bright blue highlights in the hair. I don't think design and illustration can compliment each other much better than this does. Published in the period 1906 to 1914, it is a remarkable piece for that time.

Even when Hohlwein was given a mundane assignment, Man at Portable Typewriter, for example, his mastery of watercolor transcends the banality of the layout that is made further chaotic with the insert of product, no doubt at the insistence of a sales manager. Hohlwein's handling of it proves his disdain.

This is so good that it's almost reckless. This is from a much later period, from 1920 to 1926 and it's done with a much more loose technique than the Riquetta poster, above, or Gipsy, below.

A beer poster from the early 1920s. The design and illustration are harmonious and powerful without being overbearing. The simplicity of a highly developed style leaves much to the imagination of the viewer and consequently increases the interest and appreciation of a splendid poster.

One of his most popular posters, it is also a masterful combination of design and illustration. The distinct hand-lettering that also identifies so much of Hohlwein's work is perfect for its time and place, so avant garde without detracting from the illustration.

I'll end this homage to the master with this very fine portrait. Ludwig Hohlwein's characters are rendered so human and without artifice that we have no doubt we have seen them somewhere in the flesh.

Ludwig Hohlwein: and Norman Rockwell as model?

Poster for Springtime in Wiesbaden circa 1920-1926. (Click on image to enlarge.) Hohlwein was born there, in the Rhine-Main region of Germany, though he and his work are associated with Munich and Bavaria in southern Germany. There were two schools of Gebrauchsgrafik in Germany at the time, North and South. In the north, the great designer and illustrator was Lucian Bernhard, whose poster for a 1931 auto show appears below.

Bernhard's style is totally different.

Click on this Mercedes poster of the period (1920-1926) to enlarge it. In this, and prior examples, Hohlwein's work seems to be dependent more and more on photographic images. However, he takes his adaptations to another level seeming to know when to let go of any hold the photo may have of him. His leaving images to the imagination of the viewer and creative use of color dispels any suggestion that he might be just another illustrator who uses photos as a crutch. (That's a term we used to hear a lot of fifty years ago until photographic realism just about destroyed tasteful illustration -- and much of gallery painting as well.)

A lavender bus? I can't believe the colors he used here. The background is very similar to a technique art directors used for sketches to show clients for approvals. Hohlwein has rendered the Mercedes and the bus in a sketchy technique rarely seen in the U.S.A. to sell automotive products. This is from the period between wars, 1920-1926, when Hohlwein was enjoying great popularity. The style also indicates a simple, quick solution to honor as many commitments as possible.

In this poster the technique is much more deliberate but it still achieved with a great deal of restraint. I l have always had the feeling that Hohlwein used a photo of Norman Rockwell for the subject. Circa 1925.

This photographic profile of Norman Rockwell, albeit taken late in his life, bears an uncanny resemblance to the profile in Hohlwein's illustration.

Were these two great icons of illustration aware of each other? Most certainly. Hohlwein had an exhibition in New York in 1923. Perhaps they visited and corresponded with each other. At the very least, I would like to think that Hohlwein was paying homage to his American colleague with the very famous profile.

Ludwig Hohlwein: Reliance on Photography?

Continuing with the English translation, we read: "When our artist informs us that he has never had a single pupil, and that he employs no assistants, since all of his patrons have the right to demand an honest original, then our amazement and admiration know no end. It was no light task to carry out unaided every commission from A to Z during all these years, and bring each to a happy conclusion by virtue of his own right hand. It was alone his love of his work, his devotion and fidelity to his work, which gave the Hohlwein poster that degree of perfection which has placed it in the very center of universal interest and universal demand. Nor need we believe for a moment that the creator of these superb designs simply shakes them out of his sleeves in complete, ready-made series. Hohlwein, on the contrary, works almost invariably from a model. . . ." Illustration circa 1910.

The text continues, "He first prepares a drawing which follows Nature [sic] faithfully, sometimes making use of photographic studies to this end. And only after these preliminary sketches does he proceed to evolve a decorative design as a basis for the work at hand."

I have put that text in bold face because I think that Hohlwein made extensive use of "photographic studies" as these examples suggest. The lighting of the subjects in these posters from the period 1914-1920, and the one above from around 1910, show features that could only have been lighted in direct sunlight or from tungsten lamps. The lighting and shadows form patterns peculiar to photographic prints. Compare these patterns of light with the illustrations of Sarah Stilwell and Edward Penfield in prior posts.

It seems improbable that Hohlwein would want to make his drawings in direct sunlight, even if he worked under an umbrella or in adjacent shade. While it's possible to paint brightly lit landscapes, it would be very uncomfortable attempting to paint such expressive illustrations from live models. Of course it could be done, but why bother? Especially when photos were already relied on by illustrators everywhere to record facial expressions, accurate body movements and gestures, folds, patterns, and textures in clothing and decor.

An enlarged image of the monk's head. Could it be that Hohlwein had no pupils or assistants because he wanted to keep his technique secret? My mentor, Harold Smith, was very generous with tips, suggestions, and advice, but I knew of other illustrators who covered up their work when strangers entered their studios unannounced and would never explain how they did things. They were–and are–much like cooks who refuse to share recipes.

Ludwig Hohlwein: Introduction

This is the famous Hohlwein signature that appeared on just about all his work. The umlaut over the u in München (Munich in English) is connected by a double slash to his name. Of course it looks like a Z and I have no idea why he chose it. It is discussed in the book Ludwig Hohlwein, (by Professor H.K. Frenzel, with an introduction by Dr. Walter F. Schubert, and translated by Herman George Scheffauer, and published in Berlin in 1926 by Phonix Illustrationsdruck und Verlag. The illustrations which follow are from the book.)

I don't know if it is the fault of the translation, which is almost as unintelligible as computer translation, or the ponderous obfuscation of German academia of the time, but to quote from the text:

"It goes without saying that this . . . like dozens of other original conceits of Hohlwein's, was seized upon by the petty pirates of advertising art, watered and botched and ruined. This passion for imitating the inimitable even went so far as attempts to ape the characteristic signature of the great Munich artist, that is, the two diagonal lines which run from the 'ü' in the word München and which connect the personal name with the place name. . . .

"But these poor-spirited imitators who clung to his heels everywhere, never felt a single trace of the essence and spirit of the master. The Hohlwein style may, of course, be copied like all others, that is, up to a certain degree, but the mystery of its great and magic power of attracting, which carries even the sober Briton and in a still greater degree the American along with it, remains a sealed book to them."

Well, it's nice to know where we stood in the great scheme of things. Speaking of books, the signature reproduced above was scanned directly from the hotstamped foil of the cloth binding.

This is a photograph from the book pages printed in gravure. Ludwig Hohlwein was born on 26 July 1874 in Wiesbaden, Germany, into a patrician family. After a privileged childhood he pursued the study of architecture, and we are told that he avoided recreational student drinking in favor of sports such as horseback riding and hunting. His study of architecture was soon dismissed in favor of illustration.

These magnificent examples of design and illustration are living proof of Hohlwein's prodigious talent. Click on the bear for an enlarged view.

These posters were published between 1906 and 1914. Berchtesgaden is a famous German Alpine resort where Adolf Hitler created his infamous "Eagle's Nest." Many expected it to be the final redoubt of the Third Reich until it was learned that Hitler had committed suicide in his Berlin bunker.

Sarah S. Stilwell: An Appreciation

I apologize for the poor quality of reproduction in this piece for Scribner's Monthly Magazine for December 1907. Stilwell received top billing but something went awry in the production. There's a bit more Howard Pyle and N.C. Wyeth influence in these.

A close-up of the inset which spares us the overpowering page design and allows us to concentrate on the delightful illustration.

Click on image to enlarge Stillwell's illustration for The Water Babies.

This is what I meant by a Pyle and/or Wyeth influence. Look at the story-telling going on here. The text, by Edith B. Sturgis, reads:

. . . . They were sort of elfin-fairies, and yet as big as me,
Their hair was dark and shiny, and as wet as it could be.
At first I thought it would be fun to go with them and play,
And watch the little fishes, and make bubbles all the day.

But then I grew quite frightened, they pointed at me so,
They knew I had been a naughty girl, and the biggest one said "O–oh!". . . .

Click on image to enlarge this illustration entitled, The Fairy Godmother.

Look at those faces. That is fine painting, let alone great and wonderful story illustration. I wish we knew more about this remarkable woman. If any of you have any information, please post it as a comment.

Addendum

Reader V. Pillard comments on 21 December 2004: I have just received a gift of a painting by Sarah Stilwell that I would like to know more about. It is a painting of a girl sitting in bed with a colorful quilt over her. She is looking out a window. It is an oil 15 x 20 inches. On the back are the numbers 3193 which might be 3/91. Were painting[s] dated in that way back in the 18th century. What does anyone know of her early work. I could post the picture but am not sure how. Can I email it to someone?

PG reply on 23 December 2004: Is this it? It appeared in the December 1899 issue of Harper's Monthly Magazine and my scan is at it was reproduced in black and white. The proportions match pretty well with the 15 x 20 inch size you have given me.