AND MAURICE GREIFFENHAGEN
|The English artists of established reputation with whom I dealt in the
last chapter, were, as we saw, so anxious to inform their posters with
aesthetic qualities, that for the most part, they overlooked the obvious
fact that their work was vain unless it really fulfilled its primary
purpose of advertising. It was left for the three men (all of
comparatively recent reputation) whose names head this chapter, to give
the right direction; to insist that not art, but advertisement, was the
first essential. It is not for an instant to be pretended that their
achievement equals in importance that of the three designers discussed
in a corresponding chapter in the section of this book devoted to
France. Quantity of production, it is true, is a small matter in art;
and yet, in so far as quantity of production entails experience, one
is forced to take it into consideration. The success of a man who has
produced a hundred posters, or more, is scarcely to be expected of
a designer, however ingenious, who is only making his first attempt.
Moreover, to an artist accustomed to work on a small scale, it is a
matter of extreme difficulty to appreciate, and when in the throes of
production to keep in mind, the essentials of a design intended to
be seen at a considerable distance, in the open air. He is apt to
be tempted into pretty detail or subtle and harmonious colour, and
therefore to forget that he should be simple almost to the point of
crudeness. Under these circumstances, it is not less remarkable than it
is encouraging, that Mr. Hardy, Mr. Beardsley, and Mr. Greiffenhagen in
their earliest essays apprehended the situation at once, and produced
posters which inevitably caught the eye of the beholder and created an
impression which remained with him for a considerable time. Differing in
all else, the first designs of these three artists were alike, in that
they were admirable advertisements. From every hoarding in London,
from the walls of every station on the Underground Railway, one was
vehemently called upon to purchase a new weekly, or a new series of an
old one, or to visit the Avenue Theatre. If the call was resisted, it
was assuredly no fault of these artist-advertisers. To suggest that what
they have done would have been impossible,
[Illustration: 0230]
[Illustration: 0231]
or at least improbable, if France had not paved the way, is scarcely
to discount their immediate and unequivocal success: even the greatest
artist is unwise if he does not condescend to make use of the work of
the past.
It is, I think, Mr. Dudley Hardy who, of the three artists named, owes
most to France. He has made a variation, a very personal and alluring
variation, be it said, of a theme essentially Gallic in its unrestrained
gaiety, its reckless joyousness. There is something of Cheret, and there
is even more of Jan Van Beers, in the end-of-the-century girl, elegant
as she is impudent, whom Mr. Hardy depiets with such amazing verve and
abandon. She is too light-hearted, too irresponsible, to be a daughter
of this land of grey and rainy skies; she takes nothing seriously, save
perchance a detail of her costume. And yet she is stamped with Mr.
Hardy's personality as thoroughly as are the charming _Parisiennes_ of
Cheret with the individuality of their inventor. Mr. Hardy began,
and began wisely, by trusting for his effect to a single bold figure.
Elaborate composition implies detail, and detail is one of the pitfalls
of the designer of posters. Take, for example, the vast sheets which
were employed to advertise one of the spectacles at Olympia. The
overcrowding of small figures and closely-realized views either produced
no impression whatsoever on the spectator, or at the most an impression
due entirely to the immensity of the sheets. Mr. Hardy's series of
posters commenced most auspiciously with that audacious young lady in
a yellow dress, saucy hat, and flying black boa, who, not deigning to
entreat, compelled the passer-by to rush to the nearest bookstall for a
copy of Mr. Jerome's weekly "To-Day." Later, in similar vein, came
the dashing girl in red, used by the manager of the Prince of Wales's
Theatre to insist on the merits of "A Gaiety Girl." It may be doubted
whether any more effective mural advertisement has ever been seen in
London than that formed by half-a-dozen copies of this poster, arranged
in the manner of a frieze in front of the theatre during the run of the
piece. If the idea was that of the bill-sticker, the man was a genius
of his kind: I cannot help suspecting, however, that the striking
arrangement was due to Mr. Hardy himself. Or perhaps it was the happy
thought of an outsider. In addition to the large "Gaiety Girl" poster,
the two smaller bills which this artist designed to advertise the same
play, full as they were of dash and go, must not be overlooked. To the
collector they have a merit which he will not fail to appreciate. They
are of manageable size, and this is more than can be said of most of Mr.
Hardy's productions. It must not be thought, however, that
[Illustration: 0234]
Mr. Hardy can do no more than repeat with slight variety of detail the
_chic_ girl to whom he first introduced us; already, notwithstanding
the comparatively small number of his designs, he has shown a very
commendable versatility. The proprietors of "St. Paul's," in the days
when that journal regaled its readers on the portraits, not of dancing
girls, but of right reverend prelates, commissioned Mr. Hardy for a
large design appropriate to the semi-ecclesiastical character of their
journal. The choice, in view of the "Yellow Girl," was a somewhat
curious one; but the experiment justified itself. The artist rose to the
occasion; on the hoardings of London there appeared a woman of austere,
even saintly, demeanour, clad in sombre robes, and armed with a spike of
the Madonna lily. In spite of the low scheme of colour, the design
was very telling as an advertisement. It has become very rare; indeed,
notwithstanding the fad; that the dealers quote it at various prices in
their catalogues, it may be questioned whether it is to be procured at
all. When the policy of "St. Paul's" was changed--when it stepped down
from its shrine to join the multitude and be of the world, worldly--the
art of Mr. Hardy was once more called in to introduce the paper in
its new guise. For the first time, so far as I know, he attempted
composition. His idea was a happy one. The poster represented a young
lady, evidently light-hearted and of unquestionably fantastic costume,
see-sawing on a quarter of the moon with a gentleman of slight
intellect, but exceedingly smart clothes. Seen under certain conditions
the composition is distinctly effective, but from a long distance it
fails to assert itself as do Mr. Hardy's simpler designs. In his most
recent effort he has returned to the single figure, and he has done
nothing more striking than his bill for "The Chieftain," at the Savoy
Theatre, which represents a man in picturesque costume on a red ground.
The lettering of nearly all Mr. Hardy's posters is admirable. It is
invented by the artist himself, and forms an essential part of the
design. For the rest, it should be remembered that the poster is a mere
incident in Mr. Hardy's art career. As an illustrator he is with us
everywhere; as a painter he is held in deserved esteem. It is to be
hoped, for the sake of the artistic poster in England, that he will
continue to devote some of his time to a branch of art in which, in
comparatively a short time, he has so greatly succeeded.
The art of Mr. Aubrey Beardsley has been so enthusiastically received,
on the one hand, as a new revelation, and so passionately condemned, on
the other, as the mere glorification of a hideous and putrescent aspect
of modern life, that it is difficult to consider his work with calmness.
One thing, however, is certain: an impression
[Illustration: 0238]
[Illustration: 0240]
of some kind, whether agreeable or the reverse, it has undoubtedly left
upon all who have seen it. It cannot be dismissed by stating that it
is derivative rather than original; that to a large extent it is the
outcome of Japan, and in a less degree of the old English school of
caricaturists. Whether it be good or bad, the extraordinary impression
it has made cannot be gainsaid. It is probable that the work of no young
designer of recent times has called forth so much homage of imitation,
so great an amount of that kind of caricature which is among the
sincerest forms of flattery. Mr. Beardsley's eccentricities are so
pronounced, that to parody his work was simply to do the obvious.
From "Punch," august by reason of its fifty years of tradition, to the
poorest comic rag produced to catch the errand-boy's spare halfpenny, is
a far cry; and yet the former, no less than the latter, has treated
its readers to a series of pictorial Beardsleyisms. It would have been
wonderful, indeed, if Mr. Beardsley, who is nothing if not modern, had
not attempted the artistic poster. His opportunity came when the Avenue
Theatre was taken by an enthusiastic and courageous young actress for
the production of plays by living English writers, which, whatever
their fate from the commercial point of view, were at least to possess
definite merits as pieces of literature. In order to advertise Dr.
Todhunter's "Comedy of Sighs," and Mr. G. Bernard Shaw's "Arms and the
Man," Mr. Beardsley excelled himself, and designed perhaps the most
remarkable poster ever seen, up to that time, in London.
Nothing so compelling, so irresistible, had ever been posted on the
hoardings of the metropolis before. Some gazed at it with awe, as if
it were the final achievement of modern art; others jeered at it as
a palpable piece of buffoonery: everybody, however, from the labourer
hurrying in the dim light of the morning to his work, to the prosperous
stockbroker on his way to the "House," was forced to stop and look at
it. Hence, it fulfilled its primary purpose to admiration; it was a
most excellent advertisement. The old theatrical poster represented,
in glaring colours, the hero in a supreme moment of exaltation, or the
heroine in the depths of despair. Mr. Beardsley did not condescend to
illustrate, but produced a design, irrelevant and tantalizing to the
average man, though doubtless full of significance to himself. In many
respects the Avenue bill must be considered the best poster which so far
has come from this artist's hands. The very graceful figure on a small
poster for "The Yellow Book" speaks for itself. It is more vivid,
more curious, than either of the two done for a London publisher. Most
collectors, however, will treasure even more highly
[Illustration: 0244]
[Illustration: 0245]
[Illustration: 0246]
the charming design done by Mr. Beardsley to advertise the Pseudonym
series of short stories. In it we meet with the artist in his less
mordant mood. The sketch of the old bookshop in the background is quite
delightful, and the whole design is less grotesque than most of Mr.
Beardsley's productions. The arrangement in purple and white, which
he did for the same firm, is a very striking performance in his later
manner. Its importance as a poster is, however, seriously discounted
by the fact that the design has nothing whatsoever to do with the text,
which has been added in a manner almost inconceivably clumsy.
The success of Mr. Beardsley in the production of artistic posters has
encouraged a host of imitators, so that it is quite within the bounds
of possibility that he will found something in the nature of a school.
Already, on the other side of the Atlantic, more than one artist has
been inspired by him. The posters of Mr. Bradley, for example, with
which I shall deal later, are unquestionably adaptations, at once
skilful and intelligent, of Mr. Beardsley's decorative manner. Again, to
return to England, the pleasant arrangement in red and white, designed
by Mrs. Dearmer to advertise a recital recently given by her in London,
proves that she has been affected by the simplicity and directness which
are so conspicuous among the merits of Mr. Beardsley in his essays in
the art of the hoarding. Of his many parodists only one, I think, has
actually attempted the poster. The essay in question was made by Mr.
J. Hearn, under the signature of "Weirdsly Daubery," and the result
was very fantastic and amusing. The design was done for some amateur
theatricals at Oxford, and it was curious to
[Illustration: 0248]
[Illustration: 0250]
meet this atom of the so-called decadence flaunting itself, with strange
incongruity, in every nook and corner of "the sweet city of the dreaming
spires."
The case of Mr. Maurice Grieffenhagen is similar to that of Mr. Dudley
Hardy, insomuch as both have been well known for some time to the public
as painters and as the producers of very accomplished work in black and
white. At present Mr. Grieffenhagen, as a designer of posters, can only
be judged by a single production. It may be said at once that nothing
more distinguished, nothing which is less imitative or derivative, has
come from English hands than Mr. Grieffenhagen's advertisement for the
"Pall Mall Budget." Admirable alike in colour and in pattern, the poster
is entirely appropriate to its purpose of keeping before the eyes of the
public a publication which escaped frivolity on the one hand and dulness
on the other. All who watch the development of the artistic poster
in England with interest, cannot but hope that the "Pall Mall Budget"
poster will be the first of a series by the same artist equally
delightful and original.
It is interesting to note that while we are still a long way behind
the French in the matter of the artistic poster, the productions of
the three artists with whom I have just dealt have received a cordial
welcome at the hands of Parisian collectors. In the dealers' shops you
may see Mr. Hardy's "Gaiety Girl" side by side with Lautrec's "Reine
de Joie," while Mr. Grieffenhagen's young lady in red looks with demure
surprise at the antics of her more frivolous sisters, as depicted by
Jules Cheret. There is, again, a steady demand for anything by Mr.
Beardsley, who, it would seem, has already become an established
favourite with French connoisseurs. As we shall see in another chapter,
the prices put in Paris upon English posters compare very favourably
with those at which the works of the ablest French designers are valued.
In matters of art, few cities are more insular and intolerant than the
French metropolis; and those English artists who are devoting themselves
to the poster, should be encouraged by enthusiastic recognition where
enthusiasm was least to be expected.