Howard Scott's Billboard Art



Howard Scott (1902-1983) was the premiere designer of billboard art in mid-twentieth century America. He created campaigns for Esso gasoline, Schlitz beer, Nash automobiles, and Heinz ketchup.

His billboards usually had a clever line with a likable, homespun character against a plain background, not unlike Norman Rockwell's Saturday Evening Post covers, which he admired. 

He went to great lengths to find the simplest composition. His gags had to come across at a glance to people driving by at high speed. "Give them a nimble-witted one-act play," he said, "convincingly characterized with complete realism if you want to stop the crowds on Main Street."


He worked in a neat Manhattan studio overlooking Rockefeller Plaza, and was known as a thorough professional. He chose to paint in gouache because it was more direct and it dried faster, an advantage for tight advertising deadlines. In addition to billboards, he also painted posters and magazine covers.  

In 1939, he said he wasn't threatened by the possibility that photographs might replace illustration on billboards:
"The camera is out. And for good reasons. The camera reproduces the colors of the subject; the artist intensifies them, makes them more brilliant than they are in nature....Another thing. It's practically impossible to get models to act successfully for the camera....The artist can often be more dramatic by taking liberties with drawing. Figures may be shown in actually impossible positions to put over an idea that would stump the accurate camera. Sometimes anatomical distortions —not obvious to the observer—serve to make the action more legible or to give it greater emphasis."
More on Howard Scott at Taraba Illustration 
Books: Forty illustrators and how they work

Illustrator in America, 1860-2000

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Car Dealership


I brought my car to the dealership for a service checkup. The service guy told me it would take about 45 minutes. 
 

He pointed me to a waiting room, which had a coffee machine, some magazines, and a TV set. But I was tired of hearing about Romney and Obama. So I headed onto the sales floor. I found an empty chair next to the snack machine. I laid out my watercolor gear on a desk and got to work.

The hazy daylight streamed in through floor-to-ceiling windows. Clusters of red, white, and blue balloons hung from the ceiling. A sports car sat in the middle of the room, its silver paint mirroring bright highlights from the windows.

The sales people seemed transfixed by their computers. One guy played digital solitaire. They took no notice of me. When I was finished with the painting, I showed it to them. They took photos of it with their cellphones to put on their Facebook pages. 
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Related post: Mud Puddle  

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Unmade Beds

When John Singer Sargent painted his friend Ambrogio Raffele in a cramped hotel room in the Italian Alps, he titled the picture "His Studio." He also called it "No Nonsense."


Along with the painting-within-a-painting, he featured the unmade bed. Never mind if it looks messy and there's wet oil paint everywhere: the morning light looks gorgeous on the linen sheets and on the white shirt thrown over the edge of the bed.

Sargent was in good company painting unmade beds. Pioneering realists loved to paint unmade beds for the very reason that they were so quotidian and so un-arranged. Eugène Delacroix (1798-1863) painted this bed in watercolor in 1828.

Adolph Menzel drew this bed in 1845, using a stump to soften the folds of the bedclothes. Menzel himself never married, but that didn't stop him from infusing many of his drawings with a sensuous, animated feeling. Without sacrificing naturalism, Menzel's drawing seems almost alive. The pillows appear to be on the verge of waking up themselves, as if they are reaching over and nuzzling the duvet.

Menzel expert Michael Fried accounts for this quality by suggesting that Menzel projected his bodily memories of what it felt like "to rest his own head in the pillows, to to draw the duvet over his reclining body, to fall asleep, to wake, and so on, in combination, of course, with his unique ability to project those feelings back into the drawing taking shape under his hand."

Big collection of Sargent links at Making a Mark 
Book: Menzel's Realism: Art and Embodiment in Nineteenth-Century Berlin
Appreciation of the Sargent painting by Garin Baker


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