By popular request, it’s Christmas sausage dog time again.
Thanks to Lewitt-Him (above) and Beaumont (below), and of course to the presiding spirit of British Whimsy.
Dogs are clearly better that getting organised for Christmas than I am.
By popular request, it’s Christmas sausage dog time again.
Thanks to Lewitt-Him (above) and Beaumont (below), and of course to the presiding spirit of British Whimsy.
Dogs are clearly better that getting organised for Christmas than I am.
I think it’s about time to get the Christmas decorations out, isn’t it? Or in this case, the Christmas posters. I’ve been saving this one for half the year – and that’s not a weird reflection on it, by the way, it’s part of the design.
This delight is a little 10″ x 15″ London Transport poster, from 1937 which popped up on eBay over the summer. And that was supposed to be the end of the post, until I decided to try and find out something about Raymond McGrath, who designed it.
Now the London Transport Museum website doesn’t have much information on him, and it appears that this was the only thing he ever did for LT. But a bit more delving on the web reveals a lot more. If I am honest it didn’t take that much, McGrath has his own Wikipedia page for heavens sake, and it turns out he was a really interesting chap.
Predominantly, McGrath was an architect and so rather falls out of the scope of this blog, but I’ll give you a brief summary because it’s such a fascinating and, it seems, infrequently told story. Coming from Australia in 1926, he quickly became one of the pioneers and champions of modernist architecture in Britain. His first major work was the remodelling of Finella, a house for the Cambridge don Mansfield Forbes (there is a comprehensive and wonderful article about this if you would like to read more), and this got him known, to the extent that he was put in charge of the remodelling of Broadcasting House in 1931, so at the age of just 27 he was overseeing architects like Wells Coates and Serge Chermayeff. He also designed a stunning modernist house in Chertsey, St Anne’s Hill House.
(This was later owned by Phil Manzanera of Roxy Music, and there is a great discussion of the area’s modernist rock heritage here.)
Despite these works, a combination of the war, a lack of work and his wife’s mental problems led McGrath to take a job in the Dublin Office of Public Works, where he became Principal Architect in 1948, a job he held until the 1960s. While he did much notable work there, the move meant that he effectively disappeared from the architectural record in Britain.
As the poster shows, McGrath was also a talented artist and draughtsman. Below is one of the set of drawing about aircraft production that he contributed to the War Artists scheme before he left for Dublin.
But this piece of his design has to be one of my favourite things, just for its pure modernist quirkiness.
It has an interesting provenance, apparently.
This elegant design for a wallpaper was only one element in an entire design scheme presented by McGrath for a house called “Rudderbar”, commissioned by a British female pilot of the 1930′s. It had been conceived as a combination “house and transport hub” having “an aircraft hanger and a garage built alongside domestic quarters surmounted by an observation/control tower”! It was to be built nearby the historic Hanworth Airplane Field, Feltham, Middlesex, England. And all of this in McGrath’s signature Modernist style.
Rather wonderfully, the paper is being reprinted, so you can now buy it to paper your flying room should you wish. Although McGrath is interesting enough to warrant more of a memorial than even this, I think.
In the immortal words of Smash Hits, I am back. Back, back back. Admittedly I am typing this from amongst a forest of boxes, and if you asked me to lay my hands on almost anything we own, I wouldn’t be able to, but I am here. And with a rather snazzy new network connection too, which probably isn’t going to make much difference at your end, but is certainly an improvement from where I am sitting.
But enough of my domestic arrangements, it’s time to turn back to the world of posters, and in particular next week’s Onslow’s sale. What are we going to say about this – or rather what am I going to say as my attempt at crowd-sourcing some opinions on this didn’t really get enough of a response to constitute a post. So here goes.
My first impression on flicking through the catalogue is that there are an awful lot of Shell educational posters; I haven’t actually counted them, but more than enough to fulfill all your county needs. Here’s Rowland Hilder’s Warwickshire and David Gentleman’s Somerset by way of a sample.
Now these have estimates of £70-100 and £100-150 respectively and I am going to say once again what I always say when Shell posters come up, which is that I do not understand what the market is for these and thus have no idea what they are worth. They’re lovely things to display, but both the educational text and the metal hanging bars do rather get in the way of the value I think. What is a fair price for these – other than just what people are prepared to pay? Any thoughts?
There’s also the usual tranche of World War Two posters, including this old friend.

Abram Games, 1946, est. £70-100
It’s current ubiquity is affecting the estimate I think, which is a shame as its a lovely design. Of the rest, this Dame Laura Knight has to be the best drawing, if perhaps not the best poster.
Dame Laura Knight, 1940, est. £250-300
While my personal favourite is this modernist take on Coughs and Sneezes Spread Diseases.
Anon, c. 1940, est. £50-100
I do like the variety of design styles you get in the Home Front posters; there was a way of persuading you to use a handkerchief to suit almost every kind of taste.
Then, of course, there are the railway and underground posters that you’d expect too. Contrarian that I am, this is the kind of thing I like.
F Donald Blake, est. £70-100
But if you’re after countryside and representation, that is of course available by the yard as well.
Claude Buckle, c. 1950, est. £400-600
John Greene, c. 1960, est. £400-450
Those two are both later examples from British Railways, when the line between poster and landscape painting is getting a bit more blurred, but for some reason I rather like them both. There’s plenty more of that kind of thing available. Then there is also this Austin Cooper, which is a rather unusual item in that it’s a British poster for a furrin destination.
Austin Cooper, 1930, est. £100-150
But pick of the pops for me has to be this Hans Unger, for just being great.
Hans Unger, 1957, est. £100-150
The London Transport posters are fewer in number and less immediately engaging, although this James Fitton always deserves a mention.
James Fitton, 1937, est. £300-400
Finally, something which is both interesting and rather lovely.
R Coxon, 1940, est. £150-200
Here’s the blurb from the catalogue about it:
R Coxon (1896-1997) October Tree Felling, original poster printed for CEMA (later became Arts Council) circa 1940
I’m guessing – looking at the design and format – that these are in some ways related to the post-war Schools Prints, but I don’t really know and right now don’t have the time to get lost in the internet and find out. Is there a good book written about CEMA anywhere? You would think there ought to be.
And if there is anything I have missed out that you think should be included, please let me know. The comments box is just down there and waiting for your thoughts.
This post is basically me waving the white flag of surrender for the next week or so while the house move finally takes place. But instead of a white flag I thought I would offer you a pale poster instead.
I know this isn’t in the best condition ever, but it’s interesting enough to be worth looking at anyway. I know precisely nothing about it (the Post Office Savings Bank posters aren’t archived on line yet) except that it is good and that I don’t think I’ve seen very many pre-war POSB posters before now, if indeed any. Oh and the signature says, I think, Coombs, but I am none the wiser for that either.
I’m hoping to be back within a week, not least because the Onslows catalogue for the December sale is now up. But perhaps you could all go and have a look and crowd-source some opinions for me in the meantime.
Once again, people have been sending me things. To be more precise, they’ve been sending pictures of things. Which is a shame, as I would have very much liked to get this in the post.
Michael Sand got in contact with me. His parents were friends of Hans Unger’s in London in the 196os, and so he made them this lovely mosaic of their house in 1965. I love this, I think it’s my favourite of any of his mosaics that I’ve seen, so thank you to Michael for telling me about it and then letting me show you the photograph.
That’s not all, either. Suzanne Emerson’s parents were friends of Royston Cooper in the 1960s and 1970s, and so she now owns two of Royston’s paintings.
Apparently she and her mum called the first one drips and the second one eggs. There’s also a limited edition lithograph too.
She asked me about them, but I am well outside of what I know about here, so I thought I’d put them up on the blog and see if you lot can help. Suzanne is also thinking about selling them, so if anyone has any knowledge of or interest in them, please do let me know in the comments and I will pass your details on.
Because I outed myself in a recent post as being utterly ignorant about film posters, I have also – very kindly – been sent an entire book on the subject. So once I have moved house (have I mentioned this yet?), I shall read it and then I will know. Watch out.
Finally, since we’re all here, an interesting heap of posters have come up on eBay, all from the one seller.
That’s interesting as in the sense of totally bemusing, because I do not know how someone ends up with three Abram Games posters (there is also the Damp Ruins Ammunition one which I have seen more often than these two), and then two GPO posters from the 1960s? Most odd. I am hoping that the Talk Kills one is in focus in real life, I’m sure it must be.
Most confounding. But I shall watch the prices with interest.
We are, finally, moving house next week, and chaos will almost certainly loom large. So if Quad Royal falls short of its customary standards of service, I apologise. Back to normal very soon. I hope.
There are some things I haven’t been telling you recently, and it’s time to fess up.
The biggest omission is the Bloomsbury Auctions sale which happened last week. Now this wasn’t the most exciting collection of posters I have ever seen in one place, but there was one significant exception. This was three lots, right at the end, all by Dorrit Dekk. Each one was a total treasure trove, with a whole range of posters in, not just one.
What’s more, they were estimated at £200-300 per lot which, with at least ten posters each time, was looking like a total bargain. Hence my silence.
As the sale went on, we got more and more excited, because nothing seemed to be selling for over its estimate, and quite a few things were falling below that (the contrast with Christies is not something that you need me to explain). So by the time we got to the three Dekk lots our hopes were high.
But they were rapidly dashed to the ground again. They all went for well over their estimates, £420 in two cases and a whopping £550 for the one with all of the travel posters in.
Bah. I hope whoever got them likes them.
The second thing I missed was for the rather more practical reason that I only got about 48 hours notice of the sale, but it’s still interesting enough to draw your attention to after the event. Lot 247 at 1818 Auctioneers in Cumbria at the start of this week was a set of World War Two Home Front propaganda posters, How Mrs Housewife Saves Fuel For Battle.
There were thirteen in total, which would have been worth a mention on its own as it’s pretty rare for a whole set to turn up like this. But also included were these title banners.
Now I’ve never actually seen something like that before, and I was immediately reminded of this.
These are Beverley Pick’s travelling poster displays for the Ministry of Information, which I’ve blogged about before. And what I think came up for auction was a set of posters designed for exactly this kind of display. Which is a rare thing indeed. I wouldn’t be entirely surprised if those posters were by Pick himself, either; I’ve seen that kind of brickwork effect on other designs of his.
By way of atonement for these past sins, please have a couple of things which are coming up for auction in the future and so you’re able to buy. Of which the most interesting is this rather lovely London Transport poster which is being sold by Wooley and Wallis in Salisbury next week.
It’s by a rather mysterious Leith, and seems to be the only poster that he or she ever designed for London Transport. It has an estimate of just £100-200 if you fancy it, and why shouldn’t you, it’s very appropriate for the season.
Meanwhile in Chippenham a collection of rather ordinary advertising posters has turned up.
I was going to call them pedestrian, but given that half of them are for tyres, that would just be silly.
Still, worth mentioning simply to remind ourselves once again that by no means all past advertising was great.
And quite a lot of it was really rather ordinary.
Finally, this isn’t a poster and it is in a Christies sale with the word Old Master in the title, so it’s definitely unaffordable. It’s by Lill Tschudi and dates from 1933.
But it’s people sticking up posters, and the work behind the paper is always worth remembering.