Bathing suit season

I just finished these two pieces for a commission. Well, to be honest, I'm not certain they are finished. I haven't sealed them or even named them. They are sitting on one of the work tables 'til I'm sure they don't need anything else. (SOLD)

The request was for a piece using '40s bathing suits. I found these illustrations in my fashion stash and decided to make two collages while I was at it. The 95+ temperatures here may have inspired me, that or my longing this summer to be down the shore.

It's difficult to see but each background is composed of multiple pieces with the one on the right made up of four images from recycled catalogs. The shells are both old (19th century) and new (recycled greeting cards). 4.5" x 6.5" each on archival mat boards with ink and watercolor.

Lost and found

My husband, Mark, and I hunted for years for a box of books that we were certain had to be in the house. We looked high and low, that is, from the basement to the attic, and the rooms in between. I was desperate to find it, because it contained four of the 12 volumes in Andrew Lang's famed, fairy tale collection: Blue Fairy Book (1889), Red Fairy Book (1890), Green Fairy Book (1892) and Yellow Fairy Book (1894). I loved these books and was mystified by their disappearance.

Unfortunately, we found the box after a pipe burst in the basement. Seems it had been mislabeled. Gulp, by me. It broke my heart to discover that not only were my books damaged, but so were a dozen or so books that had belonged to Mark's mother when she was a child.

The fairy books didn't survive but we saved most of my late mother-in-law's books - and that's where the illustrations here come in. They are by Pauli Ebner, who I assumed was a man. Wrong. Pauli, I discovered, was a variation of Pauline or Paula. Ebner (1873-1949) is well-known to postcard collectors but wasn't on my radar even though a quick look through my collection this week turned up quite a few of her postcards (take a peek of four others via the New York Public Library's digital gallery).

The only way to describe her style is as sweet. It's soothing, winsome and oh-so-easy to imagine sharing with a child. I removed damaged areas and managed to save every color plate. Now, I'm at a loss as to whether I should frame them, sell them as is or use them in my collages - my usual dilemma.

  

Butterflies: 3

Isn't that calligraphic background spectacular? It's an original plate of a hand-drawn pen illustration from "Gaskell's Penman's Handbook" (1883) and there is a tiny butterfly in it toward the top right edge of the plate. Sections of other plates from "Golden Gems of Penmanship" (1884) make up the body and top layer of the large butterfly, and the handwork theme is carried over into the middle layer via the antique, hand-marbled endpapers. 

I liked the idea of combining the calligraphy with the printed lists, one of which is an almost tissue-thin page from the Holland "Butterfly Book" I've been mining.  The pages helped protect the color plates in the book, as well as identifying the butterflies. I used another one on April, where it became semi-transparent. 10.5" x 7.75" on archival mat board with ink, watercolor and specimen pins. In a cloth-covered, 11" x 8.5" shadowbox that is ready to hang. 

Butterflies: 2

Here's the second collage in the butterfly series. I popped it onto the scanner rather than shooting a photo, because when I have it in the shadowbox, it's difficult to shoot. So, keep in mind that about an inch of the edges is covered by the shadow box.

As mentioned before, these started out as simple, decorative collages but as they grew, I decided to add elements about collecting. A Victorian obsession if ever there was one. That's where the text on the left comes in, and because it references caterpillars, I located some to place beside it. Both are from the "Butterfly Book" by W.J. Holland (Doubleday, Page & Co., 1902) that I've been pilfering for all it's worth - as are a few of the butterflies.

Of note is the flower background. I found two vintage Dover books of iron-ons and bought them with the intention of seeing whether the images could be ironed on to paper as a different kind of image transfer. I tried it and it works, but what also interested me was that the images had begun transferring onto each other over the years. You can see faint outlines of the image that was after this one in the background. So, I opted to use the entire page as is.  10.5" x 7.75" on archival mat board with ink, watercolor and specimen pins. Mounted in a cloth-covered, 8.5" x 11" shadowbox and ready to hang.

Butterflies: 1

So, this is what happened with the square-shaped butterfly collage mentioned in the last post. Now titled "Butterflies: 1." Yeah, not too creative. Most likely, I'll rename it, as often happens and is one reason I stopped writing titles on the mats!

In any case, not much changed on the piece. I moved the red butterfly, which was cut from a recycled greeting card, to the bottom. The orientation of the main butterfly was altered, and antennae and a body were added. A small gold butterfly was tucked under the quote and, hmm, there seem to be more changes than I thought.

I wanted to soften the quote but didn't want to use paint. I turned to my tissue paper bins - yes, I save all the tissue paper from gifts I receive - where I found a pale blue piece. Once it was down - but not glued on yet - I realized it would draw attention away from the butterflies. Then, I found a white-on-white, flower-patterned piece. The pattern is lost against the white background of the quote but it provides some cover over the text, which is what I was looking for. 7.5" x 7.5" on archival mat board with ink, watercolor and acrylic paint. Matted to fit a standard 12" x 12" frame.