Love struck

Okay, between the Tweeting, Facebooking, writing about art, designing "Love Me Tender," my first line of Valentine cards, hunting for paper for two new series of collages, and fighting a cold given to me by my dear husband, well, I've neglecting the blog.

Hoping to remedy that by taking a break from one of my writing gigs. Meanwhile, for those of you NOT on Facebook, here's a peek at the Valentine cards that I have been posting there for the past few weeks, all are available at my studio, and a selection of them can be found at MiCA 12/v, NVISION, and Redtree. And, later this week, at the Bonbonerie.

Adapted from a circa 1920s fold-over Valentine made in the U.S.A.
The publisher and artist are not IDed. I found 5 cards in what, apparently, was
a series during my only trip to the Burlington Antique Show last year.

The illustration is adapted from a 1905 postcard, published
by Raphael Tuck & Sons, London.  It was not mailed, but is addressed
to Mr. John Lauder, Brad St., Beachmont, Mass.  The original featured
the man as a pear, but with serious tweaking, I turned him into an apple.

llustration adapted from a postcard, circa 1910, that was printed in Bavaria.
 The publisher and artist are not identified, and it was not mailed.
 But the art has the softness, and sweetness of an Ellen Clapsaddle illustration. 
We're up in the air on whether the child is a boy or a girl. 
The message on its back? Simply: “Paul Baker from Mary B.”

Illustration adapted from a greeting card, circa 1920s,
that was die-cut. The back of the card shows
the boy's back and the back of the tag, which
reads "Please be mine." The publisher and artist
are not identified but it has the unmistakable style
of a WhitneyMade card.

This sly guy was a dense, black & white engraving from
"Good Things for Little Ones," an antique children's anthology
 of stories, poems, illustrations. It took about 20 hours of work
to "open up" the image - line by line, pixel by pixel -
and to create the final colorization.

The illustration is adapted from a 1922 WhitneyMade postcard,
published by the George Whitney Co. of Worcester, Mass.
It's postmarked Bainbridge, Ohio, 6 a.m., Feb. 14, and was sent
by Catherine Jenkins of Cynthiana, Ohio, to Mr. West, sans a message
other than “Valentine Greetings” on the front of the card.
The artist is not identified. At one point, Whitney was among
the largest publishers of Valentines, even so, it rarely identified its artists.

Illustration adapted from a 1909 postcard published
 by H.W. Taggart Co. (NY). The card was never used.
I've created a 2nd version: two MALE hearts
(both sporting an oh-so-trendy 'stache). 

The illustration is adapted from an antique trade card
advertising the handsome Winsome Banner stove made
by the Baxter Stove Co. of Mansfield, Ohio. As with the cupid card,
I spent a few days at the computer
"opening up" the engraving so that the stove's wonderful decorative details
would pop. And, of course, had to add that blazing fire.
While researching the stove and company, I discovered
 that Mansfield was the stove capital of America 'til the 1970s.
It was home to Tappan & Westinghouse, as well as other manufacturers.

When creating the web image for the "Love Has Gone to My Head" cards,
I put the two cards together, and, voila!, a new idea was born.
Why not put the two hearts together in one other card?
The illustration is adapted from a postcard that is
postmarked West Alexandria, Ohio, Aug 22, 1910.
 It was sent to Alice Tester of Rockford, Ohio, by her niece Alma Dorman
with a message asking her aunt to visit.
A Valentine sent in August? No. On the original, the female heart
is frowning deeply, with big tears running down her cheeks,
and the text reads: "Do you sometimes think of poor little me."

Illustration adapted from an antique chromolithograph
of D.M. Ferry & Co.'s Sweet Pea "Miss Blanche Ferry,"
which the California company introduced in 1889. 

Coloring my heart out for Valentine's Day

Hot off the press: two new Valentine cards.

The top one was adapted from a Charles Dana Gibson illustration that was used in a collage last year with the same title as the card greeting. I'm so enamored of the twisted image of a steaming hot Cupid being served up on a silver platter that it's also become a print and, now, this card. I liked paring it back to the original image, though there have been additions such as more steam. 

After toying with various greetings - "love served up on a silver platter," "hunka hunka burning love" - I stuck with "hot plate."

Each card is hand-colored, so no two are alike. Sometimes, the apron is colored; sometimes, the dress, Sometimes, his wing is colored, sometimes, it's not. Sometimes, well, you get the picture. I feel like one of the Victorian women hand-coloring those Godey's fashion engravings I'm so fond of.

The card below also is hand colored. The image is adapted from an illustration in an 1877 German edition of "Schiller's Werte." It was one of the illustrations for his "Don Carlos." I scanned the ornate title page from the volume and used it on the back of the card, which is printed on pale, ash rose card stock. 

Now, to get them to the studio and area shops, then, on my web site!

Hot Plate

On Valentine's Day I wrote a post on my Paper With A Past blog about our family tradition of "strange cupids." That is, Victorian and Edwardian images of cupid that are disturbing enough to make my husband and daughter cringe. I'm on the hunt for them all the time. The weirder, the better.

So, you can imagine my delight at finding this Charles Dana Gibson illustration in "The Gibson Book," a fantastic, over-sized, two-volume collection of his drawings that Scribner's published in 1906. Looking at it, well, I just HAD to make yet one more, new collage for The Art of Food exhibit at The Carnegie.

As you can see below, the image is pretty much intact. I wanted to keep his signature - on the bottom left - but it didn't work out. To my family, the most unsettling part of the image is the steam rising from Cupid. So, of course, I had to add to it. I found a vintage scrap of hearts afire, then, added more flames from a vintage tarot card and painted the steam a smokey grey. Now, they are even more unsettled.

© Hot Plate (2012)
mixed-media collage: antique illustration; recycled invitation &
  wrapping papers; vintage sheet music & scraps; ink; watercolor;
acrylic sealer. 7.5" x 7.5" on archival mat board. Matted & framed.
 Price: $125. (SOLD)

Strange cupids

We have a tradition in our family of odd Valentine gifts. Think along the lines of Charles Addams and Edward Gorey, and you'll get the picture. So, when I started collecting antique holiday postcards about eight years ago, I found myself drawn to offbeat Valentine images.

Over time, my burgeoning collection of "strange cupids" became something of a family joke. I scoured flea markets, shops and sales for the creepiest cupids. When I returned home, I'd share them with my husband and daughter. Finding postcards that would make them cringe became my goal.

But the latest addition to the collection isn't a postcard, it's the Gibson Girl above. She's from Vol. 2 of The Gibson Book, a 1906 anthology of drawings by Charles Dana Gibson that contains the contents of 11 of his books. She starts "Everyday People." That alone, got laughs. What creeped them out wasn't so much the cupid being served up on the platter, as the steam rising from him.

Other things that bug them: cupids playing with hearts - tossing, rolling & hitting them; the cupid just below who is feeding a "warm" heart to the moon; the cupid below him who is braising hearts over a fire. I, of course, think they are wonderful.