Wearing Graphic Messages

The Sand­wich Board I found this photo, below, as just one early example of graphic adver­tising that gave the wearer an income. In 19th century England there were Sand­wich Men or Human Bill­boards. This was also a common sight during the “Depres­sion” years in the USA. Persons who wanted to convey their own personal state­ments or “causes” also used the “sand­wich board” method for commu­ni­ca­tion.

The next biped adver­tise­ment surface for displaying a message was the T-​shirt. The orig­inal short sleeve under­shirt became outer­wear for the army and then many laborers began to work, wearing only their T-​shirt. Adults and chil­dren knew the “T-​shirt” by 1920. Consensus seems to say that the first time that a T-​shirt was used to send a message, was in the 1939 movie, “The Wizard of Oz”. In the Emerald City of OZ, the three OZ workers, the ”Wash & Brush Up Co.” who re-​stuffed the scare­crow with his own hay, wore green shirts showing only two letters : “OZ”.By the early ‘50s there were other printed t-​shirts, produced in Florida.

Then in the early ‘60s Marget Larsen who was designing for Weiner & Gossage’s client, Rainier Ale of Seattle, created the 1961 ad with the offer of possibly “the first sweat­shirts ever!” to have silk-​screened photo­graphic portraits. This also was where Howard “Luck” Gossage created his very “wordy” ads. His low-​key plug for Rainier Ale was in the top line : (Rainier Ale Strikes a Blow for Culture ; a Public Service Adver­tise­ment).

This ad ran in the New Yorker. It offered a sweat­shirt for $4 to wear while listening to the San Fran­cisco clas­sical music station, KSFR. The ad suggested that this would include the recip­i­ents into the realm of “High­brows”. Later the entire Boston Symphony Orchestra wore the Beethoven sweat­shirt on Beethoven’s birthday. Lith­o­graphing half-​tone images on a sweat­shirt started a whole industry !

Cotton Shirts T-​shirts and sweat­shirts are woven and soft enough to not require much care so for most sports it is ideal. Cotton and thinner mate­rials are usually used for bowling shirts. The team name or image can be lost in the wrin­kles. Dick Moore gave the art for this “Rolling Toads Shirt” to the bowling team. He never saw the shirts in person but did receive this photo.

Also shown is Dick’s design and illus­tra­tion for a T-​shirt for a fishing tour­na­ment. (He produced some commer­cial work as well as being a fine art water­col­orist while in Hawaii.) As I write this, Dick’s is sending his orig­inal art to be printed on (yes) “The Sons of Cham­plin : Home Grown in Marin” T-​shirt.

As I began my life in adver­tising, I never knew that I would be involved with clothing. Spon­sored Bene­fits The public’s partic­i­pa­tion in cycling and running events has required apparel to empha­size the popular events. Here is a shirt design that was repro­duced for Houston’s Amer­ican Rheuma­tism Asso­ci­a­tion, a 1988 Benefit Run. Also shown, three possible designs for the Amer­ican Lung Asso­ci­a­tion of San Mateo’s Fund Raising, Sofitel Bastille Tour. The French theme was initi­ated because The Hotel Sofitel (later, Pullman Hotels & Resorts) contributed their loca­tion as part of the cycling tour.

Product Promo­tions As a layout artist for an agency for phar­ma­ceu­tical prod­ucts, I was to design sweat­shirts for persons within the compa­nies. In some cases, jackets and base­ball caps were offered.
Jack Davis was known espe­cially for his illus­tra­tions for MAD Maga­zine. To sell the client, Naprosyn, on the visual for a sweat­shirt for their employees, I tried to guess what Davis would do. Next you see his b/​w layout and, lastly, his full colored art printed on a sweat­shirt.

Under-​Stated Iden­tity Some­times the client’s iden­tity was small, as this shirt for Apple Univer­sity. Apple University’s Molly Tyson and I created a series of items in the same style. There were many sketches to develop the “Lead­er­ship” image.

Just for Fun Next, body-​promo could be for private events. These items were created for fun and for free. “Vicom” Asso­ciate had begun as Barnum Commu­ni­ca­tions, and then became Vicom Asso­ciates and finally, FCB Health­care. These designs are cred­ited to many in the agency’s art depart­ment. I have no record on who did what. These were for agency events : The Vicom Asso­ciates soft­ball team,
I previ­ously showed the agency’s bowling shirt and then there was the “Ship of Fools”, an agency party of some sort, on The Ruby, which was hired for the night on the SF Bay. It all was so very foolish ! In the star-​less, moon-​less night, no life preservers to be found, no deck shoes on the decks, no sober words from the captain, and no calm water. At times the deck was almost perpen­dic­ular to the bay. The trip from San Francisco’s China Basin to Sausalito and back was scary and still great fun, having survived to tell about it.

Socks That Say Some­thing I didn’t even know that this could be a possi­bility. (Dick Moore wears’um.)

Bodies as Bill­boards, Tattoos ! I have nothing to show, here. I have read that persons have sold areas of there skin to adver­tise prod­ucts and websites !

Ann Thompson

Geezers Gathered 2017

click on the photo for a larger view.

1970 Anti War Project

In early 1970s I was a writer at McCann-​Erickson Adver­tising Agency. The Agency was asked to create a Pro Bono Anti-​Vietnam project for Clergy and Laymen Concerned. The Creative Dept. submitted adver­tising against the War in Vietnam. I wrote a full page print ad that ran in the Chron­icle, N.Y. Times, etc. The head­line said Our Government’s Peace Plan is a Bomb…with a slogan that read End the Endless War.

I also created a radio and tele­vi­sion commer­cial featuring Direc­tion by Haskell Wexler and actor Henry Fonda’s Voice Over. We recorded Henry Fonda in the billiard-​room of his house. When we first drove to his house Henry Fonda greeted us in his front yard wearing jeans and gardening gloves. He said he was doing some “weeding”.

At one point during the recording of the commer­cials, Mr. Fonda commented on the script, saying, “Jane should talk more like this when she talks about the War”.

Later, Haskell Wexler said he was hearing too much noise on the recording. We went to Mr. Fonda’s deck which over­looked the U.C.L.A. campus below and saw mili­tary heli­copters and tear gas smoke across the Univer­sity below. We patiently waited until the Anti-​Vietnam Student Protest ended before contin­uing to film our Anti-​Vietnam radio and tele­vi­sion commer­cials.

This is the submis­sion I made to KQED. They didn’t use it…but, it does seem to be appro­priate for Geezers.

Todd Miller

Imitating The New Yorker Cartoonists

Imita­tion is the sincerest form of flat­tery.” This is the famous quote used since it was stated by the English cleric and writer, Charles Caleb Colton who lived from 1780 – 1832. Artists, through the years, have learned from each other and often there is an obvious simi­larity achieved in their work. I found that it was chal­lenging to imitate the art styles of others. As a layout artist, I could present a partic­ular artist’s style- — with the plan of the client hiring the artist known for that style.

In 1968, Charles Matheny Adver­tising was located on the second floor of the Belli Building (where I was begin­ning my graphic art career) we both admired James Thurber who was an Amer­ican writer with a unique style of wit and humorous illus­tra­tion. Thurber’s cartoons and short stories were published mostly in The New Yorker, and he was also a jour­nalist and a play­wright—

–but he could no longer be reached :
James Grover Thurber (December 8, 1894 – November 2, 1961).

So imita­tion was our answer.
I offered a similar “look” (not truly copying his style — not really fooling Thurber fans). Charles Matheny had a long career in copy­writing for adver­tising. There were various campaigns for his client, Cali­fornia Casu­alty. These ads, folders and counter card show the art style that didn’t take much time to execute so it fit the client’s sched­ules and budget for this campaign.

In 1975, there were two ad campaigns, promoting the use of BankAmeri­card. I was to study Robert Weber’s cartoon style. His work was easy to find as his cartoons were also published often in The New Yorker maga­zine. Robert Maxwell Weber (April 22, 1924 – October 20, 2016 Known for over 1,400 cartoons that appeared in The New Yorker from 1962 to 2007 – this was an artist that could be reached in the 1970s ! The first ad shows Weber’s style. Next, my layout (imitating Weber’s style) and the final ad by Weber as printed in many publi­ca­tions.

With the second BofA ad — I again tried to guess the image that would sell the concept to the client, National BankAmeri­card Inc. (that I knew as NBI). (After all these years, my files are incom­plete and I cannot remember the creative director that guided me.) I was not able to have a copy of the second final printed ad showing Weber’s final art — but here is the Xerox from those days that shows his plan. I was able to use this image in preparing the type and place­ment of the art before his final illus­tra­tion arrived.

Charles David Saxon (November 13, 1920 — December 6. 1988)

Maxwell “Bud” Arnold formed an adver­tising agency in 1970. He was creating effec­tive adver­tising campaigns for clients but he also felt that he could use adver­tising to reach an audi­ence on socially conscious issues. In September of 1976, for Maxwell Arnold’s client, Golden Gate Transit, I was asked to imitate a Charles Saxon style. (This was the only time that I had free-​lanced for Mr. Arnold. He died May 24, 2013.)

After being an editor for Dell Publishing before and after his service in WW2, Saxon began his career as a very well know cartoonist — first for The Saturday Evening Post and in 1956 he started producing his outstanding 92 covers and 700 cartoons for The New Yorker.
Following the two SAXON covers, below, this was my “Saxonish” drawing that’s Bud Arnold submitted to Golden Gate Transit for an approval of style—

—but the finished art was assigned to still another artist who was showing in several popular maga­zines and also worked for year for Disney : Henry ‘Hank’ Syverson (October 5, 1918 – August 12, 2007) Besides being a constant cartoonist for the Saturday Evening Post, This Week and The New Yorker maga­zines, his draw­ings reached other coun­tries with PAN AM Airways ads.
Here are some of Syverson’s creations :

The last ad appeared in October in the Marin County’s Inde­pen­dent Journal. It was then that I found out that the client had changed the artist from Charles Saxon to Hank Syverson.

Ann Thompson

Lunch With Dugald

Lunch With Dugald
by Newell Alexander

Rose­mary and I had flown to San Fran­cisco from L.A. to act in a series of commer­cials for a now defunct Bay Area amuse­ment park. In the first shot of the day, Rose­mary, two little kids and I were riding in a basket on the back of a huge elephant. We were stuck as the animal proceeded to go rogue, he ran through a large part of the park before he could be stopped with us unable to get off. Later, in another shot I was supposed to stand next to a Tiger who decided to lie on top of me, I was trying not to panic. The trainer kept screaming at the cat and jerking on a long chain. I was begging him, “Don’t make him mad.” The Tiger finally lost interest, stood up and saun­tered away. The produc­tion was a disaster, the director quit in the middle of the day, the whole thing was a wash, I don’t think the spot ever aired. But all was not lost, we both had a good payday and we were going to get to see my old pal, famed San Fran­cisco artist Dugald Stermer, so the trip was not a total failure.

It had been several years since I had seen Dugald, so Rose­mary and I rented a car and added an extra day to our trip so we could have nice long catch-​up lunch. Dugald called in his no nonsense manner, “Meet me at Delancy’s, it’s near my studio in the Embar­cadero.” The meal was delightful, Dugald’s pres­ence gave us lots of atten­tion, the staff approached our table as if he were a Francis Ford Coppola Godfa­ther, we later found out he was a long standing member of the board of the Delancy Street Foun­da­tion that managed the restau­rant. I did give him some grief over him having a sand­wich named after him on the menu. Dugald wasn’t a big fan of show busi­ness ; his ex-​father-​in-​law was James Bacon, a long time promi­nent enter­tain­ment colum­nist for the Los Angeles Herald-​Examiner. Dugald’s former wife Carol was raised in Holly­wood amid all the glitz and glamour, neither she nor Dugald were attracted to celebrity.

After lunch we walked around to Dugald’s studio, which was in the complex, it’s hard to describe how he had designed his work­space, it was remi­nis­cent of what Tom Mix or Ken Maynard’s den would look like, Indian pottery, rugs, Western memo­ra­bilia, a real Western ambiance. Several left-​handed guitars adorned the walls. After his passing it was dupli­cated in a display at the Cali­fornia College of the Arts.

When he first came to Houston, I watched Dugald tran­si­tion from a West Coast casual look, to boots, vest, Levis, and western shirts, a signa­ture look he retained to the end. In his studio we looked at some of his work, we remi­nisced, Rose­mary and I sang, and we drank some rare Irish Whiskey, of which he was very fond. It was the last time we were face-​to-​face.

The next week after our lunch, I wrote Dugald the following letter using the Delancy Restau­rant address.

Dear Mr. Stermer,
We had lunch in San Fran­cisco last week at Delancy’s, we saw you
having lunch with one of our favorite actors, Newell Alexander, we were going to ask him for an auto­graph but we somehow missed him when you guys left. My wife asked the staff who you were and the waiter said you just ate his sand­wich. Ha ! Since you know him could you send this enclosed package to him ? It has return postage.
Thanking you in advance, this means a lot to us.
Sincerely,
Babs and Sven Yevhoods
P.S. We met Newell at the Cow Palace when he was touring with Neil Young.

I got an answer to my letter a few days later, it was on his letter­head, in the middle of the page were two words hand lettered in his trade­mark callig­raphy, “Nice Try.”

I first met Dugald when I was working as a designer/​paste up artist in a small six-​man studio in booming Houston, Texas. He had been working for a short while for the Dick Kuhn Studio in Los Angeles, he was recruited by our studio owner, Bill Middaugh. I was a little disap­pointed when my boss Bill, came back from a Cali­fornia trip all-​aglow over Dugald’s work. I saw the attrac­tion when I leafed through Dugald’s port­folio, his work was so good I couldn’t be jealous. I had one year of art at the Univer­sity of Houston, he was a grad­uate of the UCLA School of Fine Art. He and Olympic Cham­pion Rafer Johnson were class­mates and they were exchange students together in India during Dugald’s Junior year.

I was assigned to pick Dugald up at Hobby Airport in South Houston, I was curious, I knew he and I were about the same age. We both were family men, I had three chil­dren, he had four. The years he had spent in art school, I had spent in the U.S. Navy as an aviator.

We were doing very well at the studio, the addi­tion of Dugald was amazing, he and I worked well together, word was out that we were a “hot shop,” doing good, creative work. Our boss Bill came in with the news that we were getting a chance to land an ad campaign for the largest bank in Houston, no pitch, just design an ad, if they liked it we could have the account. It was to be a full-​page four-​color ad on the back of Hous­tonian Maga­zine. We briefly brain­stormed and Dugald did a rough sketch, it said in small type, “member of,” and then “FDIC” in a huge bold font. He added a small photo of the bank building about the size of a postage stamp on the bottom margin. Sizing up the work, Boss Bill said, “I don’t think they’ll get it.” There was a long silence, “How about doing an alter­nate ? Just make the building big and FDIC small.” Dugald refused to change it. I wouldn’t change it either and we didn’t get the account. Dugald’s reac­tion ? Fuck ‘em.” The story got around the ad commu­nity in Houston and our busi­ness skyrock­eted. It was a lesson well learned. I used the same tech­nique later when I was working as an art director on major accounts at a large agency in Dallas. I won some battles and lost some.

I never knew Dugald as an illus­trator, he did however do the linocuts and hand set all the type in the work he did on his small letter­press he called “The Impress.” The small 4 x 5 inch books were gems that he printed on hand­made paper, the text was simple and clever, the art was very tasty. His press was set up in his house and he spent many late nights drinking Irish whiskey and making small delightful pieces of art. His mastery of typog­raphy was amazing and he won numerous awards in the Houston and Dallas-​Fort Worth Art Director’s compe­ti­tions.

Howard Gossage was flown in to judge the Houston Art Director’s show. He was an icon in the adver­tising San Fran­cisco adver­tising commu­nity, Howard was blown away by Dugald’s work. Dugald won several awards and with Howard’s help he landed the Art Director’s job at Ramparts Maga­zine in the Bay Area. Dugald assisted me in getting a job at CA maga­zine in Palo Alto. I free-​lanced some for Dugald at Ramparts but only for a few months. The mail boy at the maga­zine, and our weed connec­tion, was a young eager kid named Jann Wenner. Jann went on to trans­form the anti-​war maga­zine Ramparts into today’s Rolling Stone Maga­zine.

My tenure at CA was brief, I moved back to Texas and didn’t see Dugald for many years. I watched his ascent into art fame as I labored in Southern Cali­fornia building an acting career.

Dugald and I only had one moment of discord, I made an off-​hand remark in a post, “Keep the lenses of your Art-​O-​Graph clean.” (An Art-​O-​Graph is a tool to aid drawing). I knew he was pissed because of several one-​word responses to my e-​mails.

Every once in a while when I have a moment I will log on to Dugald’s website and just browse through some of his work. His design sense helped him place his art on the page in very tasty ways. He would scoff at the notion, but I consider him a master.

Dugald Stermer mastered the appli­ca­tion of art and ideas.

The Ramparts covers, above show one example from each of the years when Dugald was the art director at the maga­zine. The two exam­ples— Ben Franklin and Woody Guthrie — show styles far different than illus­tra­tions that he produced later. The edito­rial page, in 1969 explained that Ramparts had been loosing revenue and had to go into bank­ruptcy, Chapter 11. Dugald left his posi­tion as art director in 1970. The maga­zine needed to raise its subscrip­tion price and had legal prob­lems. It lasted until 1975. Then it was taken over and became the Rolling Stone Maga­zine. Another offshoot was Mother Jones Maga­zine.

At the left of this story, under Artist’s Sites, you will see Dugald Stermer’s website showing his deft illus­tra­tion and lettering styles known to his many admirers.
More on Newell Alexander can be found on IMDb.

Ann Thompson