100 Years of Illustration

Roy McKie

Roy McKie, Simon and Schuster, The Dog, 1954. A gift to Ruth and me, with best wishes.



Roy McKie, Bon voyage drawing "for "Ruth and Giam" 1955

My young wife Ruth and I visited Roy and his first wife Lois at their home in New Hope, Pennsylvania, just before we went off on a seven-month trip of discovery to Europe west of the Iron Curtain.

Roy and I were both fortunate to have as a mentor in our younger days of the tremendously talented Bruce C. Anderson who founded Bruce Anderson Associates, a major force in advertising art and design from the early 1940s through the 1960s in Boston. Roy had been discovered by Charles Coiner, art director of N.W. Ayer Advertising in Philadelphia and immediately hired. I was taken on as a cartoonist to fill Roy's shoes, which I must confess I failed to do, though my cartoon work under Andy's direction was the best I ever accomplished. 


This appeared in This Week Magazine, with the largest circulation of any publication in the USA, a Sunday supplement carried by 37 newspapers. Circa 1954.


Roy McKie, This Week Magazine, More for your money, 8 September 1957


Roy McKie, This Week Magazine, Your Money, 10 November 1957


Roy McKie, This Week Magazine, Your Money, 10 November 1957


Roy McKie, This Week Magazine, 17 November 1957

Appearing in This Week was a great gig, not only for the pay, for it was a top market for cartoonists, but it was a unique accomplishment to appear in the same publication with Roy, two guys from Medford, Massachusetts, a city hardly anyone had ever heard of until another and much younger local boy, Mike Bloomberg, earned a zillion dollars and became mayor of New York City.

Oh, yes, what did I do? A weekly pantomime cartoon about a grounded invisible angel called Angelino that ran until I asked to copyright the character and that marked the end of my tenure there.

Roy McKie, full page ad for Travlers Insurance Co., 1958

These drawings reflect a more controlled pen style, as opposed to energetic brush strokes, above. At the same time, Roy was drawing a series of ads for the Lady's Home Journal magazine entitled "Never Underestimate the Power of a Woman."


Roy McKie, from Capricorn, circa 1972


Roy McKie, from Libra, circa 1972

Next: Books by Roy McKie.

These drawings are courtesy of Gatochy, a remarkable collector from Lisbon, Portugal, from whom I hope to upload more wonderful examples from her extensive collection of art and photography through the centuries.

You can find more about Roy McKie's published childrens books by Googling his name. Among the links is blog which includes a good interview along with more examples of his published books.

Robert Osborn, 1904-1994

Osborn was famous as an illustrator of books and magazines throughout a long and successful career, but did you know he was the creator of another Dilbert, who appeared in thousands of posters and service manuals describing all sorts of hazards to U.S. Navy pilots during World War II.

Robert Osborn was born in Oshkosh, Wisconsin on 26 October 1904, the second son of a saw mill owner whom he jokingly described as a "lumber baron". The elder Osborn introduced his young son to the great outdoors, hunting and fishing on Lake Winnebago.The boy’s artistic mother kindled his imagination with gifts of books and visits to the theater. Osborn confessed in his autobiography Osborn on Osborn (see below) published in 1982 by Ticknor &Fields, that his early loves were airplanes and cars. It wasn’t long before he became personally acquainted with the grand Bugattis, Delahayes, and Hispanos in pre-World War II France; and World War II aircraft of the United States Navy, which figured prominently in his Dilbert series of humorous instructional drawings.

Osborn entered the University of Wisconsin, a state school, in 1923, but was forced to leave when stricken with a duodenal ulcer. In 1924 he was accepted at Yale University and reentered another freshman year only to fail his course in art.

Upon graduating he left in 1927 for Rome via London and Paris where he pursued his studies in drawing and painting for several years, at one time returning to the USA to teach at Hotchkiss, a preparatory school in Connecticut. He was not very successful in selling his paintings, and in 1940 he sold three cartoon paperback books to American publisher Coward McCann.

Osborn tried to enlist in the Royal Canadian Air Force but was turned down because of his medical history. He was more successful when friends helped him connect with the Navy Department in Washington where he received orders to report to a unit which published books, pamphlets, and posters dedicated to educating personnel of the many hazards involved in flying.

It was here that Osborn created Dilbert, sitting next to the desk of legendary photographer Edward Steichen, a pioneer in the use of aerial photography for the U.S. Army in World War I, now serving in his second war as an officer in the U.S. Navy. Steichen also introduced Osborn to Elodie Courter, a visiting department head from the Museum of Modern Art, who later became Mrs. Robert Osborn.

Photo of Robert Osborn by Edward Steichen.

   

August 1944

  
August 1944

This booklet was all about keeping secrets from the Axis enemy during World War II. Though it was never made public, the Axis forces had espionage agents and their sources diligently gathering information within the U.S., the armed forces, and defense industries. It wasn’t widely known to the general public beyond an admonition of caution and restraint in discussing sensitive information. Loose Lips Sink Ships was a memorable phrase from that period. May 1944.
 

Inga Arvad, 28, a beautiful Danish journalist who wrote a gossip column for the Washington Times-Herald had a love affair with 24 year-old naval intelligence officer John F. Kennedy. J. Edgar Hoover suspected her of being a Nazi spy and was instrumental in getting  JFK sent off to the Pacific. Osborn knew nothing of this, of course, but he knew how a cool young officer should comport himself in a delicate situation. Click to enlarge. Don’t miss the curled toes.

July 1943




July 1943









May 1943

Booklet back cover 

August 1944


1943




May 1945


May 1945


May 1945


May 1945

E. McKnight Kauffer 1890-1954

E. McKnight Kauffer, The Early Bird, poster for the [London] Daily Herald, 1920

On a personal note, I had the good fortune to be in London in early November of 1955, and while visiting the Victoria and Albert Museum saw that a Memorial Exhibition of the work of Edward McKnight Kauffer was being held. The following images have just been scanned from the monograph I have saved since then.

In 1955 I had illustrated brochures for a Boston agency for their American Airlines client, where his work was very well known and much appreciated by the agency art directors. I knew his style but nothing about the man, who was born in Montana, had worked in a San Francisco bookshop, washed dishes to pay his tuition to art school, traveled with a theatre company working as a scene painter, and eventually found himself in London (see below) where he eventually established himself as an extremely influential designer and illustrator.

E. McKnight Kauffer, poster for London Transport, 1924


E. McKnight Kauffer, poster for London Transport, 1938


E. McKnight Kauffer, poster for Shell-Mex, 1931


E. McKnight Kauffer, poster for Orient Line Cruises, 1935


E. McKnight Kauffer, poster for Friends of Greece, USA, 1946


E. McKnight Kauffer, poster for American Airlines, 1949



The Victoria and Albert published a book about McKnight Kauffer that is still available.

He was the most celebrated graphic designer working in Britain in the twentieth century. He left America before World War I to travel in Europe and observe the work of Cubists and the famous German poster artist Ludwig Hohlwein. When war broke out, he settled in London as a painter, associatng with the London Group and the Vorticists. He worked at Roger Fry's Omega Workshops with Vanessa Bell and Duncan Grant, and in 1915 was commissioned by Frank Pick, then ad manager of the London Underground. Thus began a client-designer relationship which continued throughout the 1920s and 1930s, ending when Kauffer returned to New York in 1940, where, unfortunately, he was not as successful as he had been in London.

The introduction to the monograph, described above, included this paragraph by Ashley Havinden, O.B.E: ". . . Steeped in the best traditions of fine art, [Kauffer] considered the poster as an art form, in the belief that if a poster were not worth looking at it would fail to attract people's attention. If it were, people would remember it and the quality of the design would enhance the reputation of the company responsible for commissioning it. The regard in which the public holds the London Undergrund is surely due in no small measure to the outstanding series of posters for it by Kauffer under the aegis of the late Frank Pick."