Posts - Page 87 of 96

Be discerning

designers

When I first mentioned Artist Partners, I included a couple of the posters that Patrick Tilley had designed for the Sunday Times.

Pleasingly, Patrick got in touch to tell me the story behind the posters .

BBDO – the agency – commissioned me to design one poster using the line “You are more interesting to know when you read the Sunday Times”.

I thought this was a bit of a mouthful so came up with the idea of illustrating a desirable quality possessed by the newspaper and its readers and offered six roughs which were all commissioned.

They were reduced to their simplest form and made with cut out paper. BBDO won a prize. My name was removed from the printed versions. But they made quite an impact at the time.

But there is a sequel. He was also commissioned to produce a further set of six posters, which were paid for but never used. So here they are, for the very first time.

What on earth were they thinking of? They’re better than the first set. The colours, in particular, are stunning.

I wonder how many other unused but brilliant posters there are out there? Anyone got any thoughts?

Lucky Dip

other

As promised last week, it’s random image day – a whole heap of posters that I have discovered along the way but not managed to use in a post. All sizes, all shapes, every one a great piece of design.

Here’s a Mount/Evans for starters – it’s from the V&A collection and I’ve never seen it anywhere else.

It comes from their prints website (that is prints that they sell you, rather than the Prints and Drawings Department), which tells me it comes from 1960. One day I will rant about the impossibility of getting any kind of fix on what the V&A actually holds, but even describing what it does and doesn’t do is such a daunting task that it may take me a while.

This Reginald Mount (the third of a set which were up on eBay a while back) also comes from there.

And I can’t tell you a single thing about this (which, again, I’ve never seen before) because their system is so byzantine and strange that I now can’t find it again. But, is good.

Not only Reginald Mount, but Hans Unger would also like you to Keep Britain Tidy, although he is rather more anguished about it.

And yes, that is a photograph of a poster pinned to a piece of hessian. You’ve got to love the Design Council Slide Collection. As well as the seventies.

They also produced this pair of Eckersleys, which are a bit different to most of his work.

Not sure about the dates for these, the Design Council puts the first one at 1980, but it looks earlier than that, about the same period as the brochure cover. I’m also taking their dating with a pinch of salt, as they estimate the second one to be c1959-65 – despite the large black 1961 in the top right corner.

Meanwhile, back at the GPO, there are some very strange posters. This one, by Beaumont, for example.

Apparently this is from 1957, although it looks earlier to me. He was clearly saner in 1950 when he did this for them.

And finally, a random bit of early 60s kitch. They must have really loved that diving board at Weston Super Mare, I’ve seen it on so many posters.

Good, now I can tidy them all away. Only to start laying down some more, of course.

Trouble with Harry

designers

When I posted the still from the Ipcress File with Patrick Tilley’s Drinka Pinta Milka Day poster in it, I thought it was just an amusing chance to see a poster in situ.

What I didn’t know was that I’d stumbled on a coincidence of hilarious and ironic proportions. Patrick Tilley wrote to give me the full story.

Thanks for your last two posts. Who was the sharp-eyed fan who noticed the poster in the Ipcress File? Clever stuff.

Just by the by, I was at the time and for several years later closely involved with Len Deighton who I chummed up with when he was briefly represented by Artist Partners – and involved somewhat disastrously with the Ipcress File in its scripting stage.

Len had received the draft script which he hated and asked me to write an assessment of it (as withering as possible). I did so on the promise that it would be “for his eyes only”. So I took a fairly strong line but still a professional one.

What I did not expect was that he would pass it to Harry Salzman (then a movie mogul and partner in the Bond Films with Cubby Broccoli. They didn’t come bigger). I got a call from Harry to come and see him that evening at his house in Mayfair re the script and went with high hopes of a promising career in the industry.

Wheeled in to his presence I was confronted by Harry in statesman-like mode who demanded how “a member of the public” (me) had obtained a copy of the script to which I had no right and that he, the director and scriptwriter had been so offended by my critique that they had no wish to work with me and prophesied I would never ever work in the industry again!

Taken totally by surprise I was lost for words but felt unable to defend myself by saying Len had given me the script and asked me to critique it. (Industry phrase). Basically because with Len – having cut a three-picture deal – was on the verge of making it big. I didn’t want to jeopardise his position. Result, I was ushered out into the night – feeling I had been run over by a bus. Bla, bla, bla…

With hindsight, the situation was completely illogical. Since Len had given him my assessment, he obviously knew how I had acquired the script. I think it was some kind of a test. What I should have done was to stand my ground and respond with a few expletives to show I wasn’t prepared to take any s***.

Looking back, it is hard to understand the awe in which he and Cubby were held by anyone connected with the industry. There’s an ironic postscript to this story The screenplay as filmed incorporated several of the recommendations I made in my report to Len.

But, hey – that’s showbiz. I did go on to write screenplays but those stills from the Ipcress File brought back the memories of that encounter. Definitely a night to remember.

I wonder how impressed Harry Salzman would be to know that he’d immortalised one of Patrick’s posters in the film. Not very, I suspect.

If you have to ask, you can’t afford it

eBay, other

Often, I end up writing about posters on here that I, for one, can’t afford. Like the Royston Cooper Hastings that I mentioned last week, which is fantastic, but at £1000 a pop, I’m probably never going to own it. I’ve always rather fancied this 1951 Abram Games design too.

But as it was last sighted going for £850 at Morphets, it’s unlikely to be making an appearance on our walls any time soon.

Here, however, is something which puts all of that into perspective. Something so expensive that they don’t even dare tell you the price.

Perhaps I’d better let them describe it.

This outstanding collection of original vintage posters includes many Countries, all Periods, all Topics, all Styles, and most Artists. For major poster designers represented, see the ARTISTS page. This is an ensemble of finest Graphic Designs, covering Graphic History since its beginnings. It is a unique investment opportunity for Museums, Universities, Corporations or Private to establish or complete a significant collection.

(And I’m sorry, but I can’t help hearing that paragraph spoken by a snappily-dressed Russian meercat. Simples.)

What they mean is 25,ooo posters. Although only (only!) 17,000 different ones if you discount the duplicates. How would you even know which were duplicates if you had that many posters? I forget what posters we own, and ours all fit under the spare bed.

They look like this.

And this.

And so on and so on.

If you want to see the full extent of what you’d get for your un-named price, they have their own website here.

They’re the collection of Eric Kellenberger, a Swiss architect who started collecting posters in the late 1960s as a cost-effective way of providing art for his clients’ walls. (I seem to remember my own excuse for beginning to buy posters being some similar thing about value for money art; a rationalisation that is blown out of the water by the sheer number of posters that we now own but don’t display.)

Apart from being rather overwhelmed by its sheer size, I don’t have a lot to say about this, mainly because it’s almost entirely foreign. So much so that the BOAC poster above (c1955) is the only British one I could confidently identify. There is also a Jersey one, which I can’t find elsewhere, and another with a Kangaroo urging me to Buy Australian Sultanas, which I can live without. Both the dog and the kangaroo look a bit threatening, if you ask me.

The artist list also mentions Zero, but I can’t see any images.

But it’s probably a good job it’s all foreign, because I doubt I could afford to buy one of these, never mind twenty-five thousand. Anyone else up for it?

Meanwhile elsewhere on the web, a classic pre-war railway poster is up for auction on eBay.

It falls into the category of picture of a train where they want you to see its workings, which makes it quite valuable, if not generally my cup of tea. But its auction history tells a little story about perceived value and eBay.

Firstly the seller, posterisland, put it on for Best Offer, with a guide price of £2,250. Funnily enough, no one bought it.

They probably thought that they were being reasonable, as the poster did go for £2,200 at Morphets (and £1,900, and £1,800; he had three…). But that was for near-perfect nick; this one is a bit battered. And it’s on eBay.

Then they tried again, as an auction with a £99.99 start price, but also a £1,750 Buy It Now. Then someone must have told him something because he took it off again twenty minutes later.

Now it is up for auction again, with a start price of £99.99, no scary Buy It Now price, and it has three bids. And I suspect it will go quite a bit higher by the time it finishes today. Although possibly not quite as high as the seller would like. We shall see.

If you do bid and are disappointed, though, I can offer some consolation.

The chance to do it in cross stitch. Kits available online. There is nothing I can add to that.

Tom Eckersley : life and work

designers

As promised a while back, the moderately personal biography from Tom Eckersley : A Life in Design, slightly edited down for your entertainment and education. With some pretty pictures too.

LCP Exhibition poster, 1979

Tom Eckersley OBE RDI AGI was born in Lowton, Lancashire on 30 September 1914. His birth preceded that of the concept of ‘graphic design’ as it is understood today, which, as Tom observes, had its roots in the twenties and thirties. Tom began his career at what he recalls as “that stimulating time when certain artists, supported by enlightened clients, saw opportunities to use their art and their vision to solve communication problems. They began to realise the many exciting visual possibilities that could be derived from the major art movements taking place in Europe between the wars.”

Tom Eckersley offset thingy
Press advertisement for paper manufacturers, c1965

Tom’s parents were great readers, their house was full of books on all subjects, and Tom spent a lot of his childhood reading and drawing. At his mother’s suggestion, he enrolled at Salford Art School at the age of 16. Here his artistic abilities and his dedicated approach to work were recognised and he was awarded the Heywood medal for best student. Here it was too that he met fellow student Eric Lombers, with whom he came to London in 1934 aged 20, to embark upon a career as a freelance poster designer.

Eckersley Lombers vintage poster for London Transport 1935
Eckersley Lombers, London Transport 1935

The two shared a tremendous enthusiasm for their art and for the poster. “The early thirties made a strong and lasting impression on me,” Tom reflects, “helping to shape my attitude to graphic work. At that time the poster was perhaps the most significant form of publicity, the great Cassandre and other French designers produced avant-garde posters, as did McKnight Kauffer and Hans Schleger in England. This greatly influenced me and I soon became seriously involved in poster design.”

Eckersley Lombers Austin Reed ad
Eckersley Lombers, Austin Reed poster, 1938

The Eckersley-Lombers team was fast established among leading poster artists at this exciting time in the history of commercial design. Certain clients and advertising agencies were looking to artist to produce material that was both functional and aesthetically pleasing, and the team was commissioned by Shell, the BBC, London Transport, the GPO, Austin Reed and advertising agency W S Crawford. Tom and Eric also worked as visiting lecturers in poster design at the Westminster School of Art.

Eckersley Lombers gas mask vintage poster
Eckersley Lombers, ARP poster, 1939

When war broke out the volume of commercial advertising declined. Tom and Eric joined the Royal Air Force and the Army respectively and so their partnership came to an end. Tom continued his creative output in the early war years with a powerful set of posters for the Royal Society for the Prevention of Accidents.

Tom Eckersley ROSPA vintage poster rogue 1945
ROSPA, 1945

The ideas were conceived whilst he worked in camp, as a cartographer, and executed in a makeshift studio during 24-hour home leaves. Later he transferred to the Publicity Section of the Air Ministry, lived at home, and did work for a number of clients, including the GPO, an association which had begun before the war and continued for many decades after.

Eckersley GPO address letters vintage poster 1944
GPO, 1944

In 1948 Tom was awarded the OBE for services to British poster design. He had reached the top of his profession and many a ‘man in the street’ who did not know the Eckersley name was familiar with his posters. Tom’s flawless clarity of purpose, his rich imagination and his gentle humour had impressed many messages upon the public: that they should avoid industrial injuries, shave with Gillette razors, dress at Austin Reed and fill their cars with Shell, to name but a few.

Tom Eckersley Gillette dog poster
Magazine advertisement for Gillette, early 1950s

His great qualities had created lasting images that pleased, amused and were rcalled and talked about long after the campaigns had run their time. Tom’s international reputation was established too, and in 1950 he was elected member of the Alliance Graphique Internationale.

Tom Eckersley private presses exhibition poster LCP
LCP Exhibition poster, n.d.

In 1957, Tom became Head of Design at the London College of Printing, a post which he held until 1977, whilst designing posters for a number of clients, some new, like Cooks and UNICEF, and some of whom, like London Transport and W S Crawford, had first commissioned his work before the war.

Tom Eckersley Lincolnshire Vintage poster British Railways
Lincolnshire, British Railways, 1961

[This biography was written in 1994, Tom Eckersley died in 1997. All images come from the Eckersley archive at the University of the Arts.]

Addendum: I carefully typed all of this out, and then found another, possibly even more interesting, biography as a PDF. So now you can choose between them.

By coach, via Royston

designers

I was planning to do a random image amnesty today, which would have been a collection of fabulous posters that I have picked up but not managed to jemmy into a blog post, and which are all now idly shuffling their feet in the great image waiting room which is my computer desktop.

Except I’m not going to, because this one was first.

Which meant I got distracted by thoughts of just what a great designer Royston Cooper was and went off to explore. So now this post is made up of what I found along the way.

Mostly this was lots of lovely posters. Like these from 1962, 1959 and 1962 again.

He’s probably best known for his Keep Britain Tidy posters. This one from 1962 is the one you find most often,

including at the bottom of our stairs. But the later (1965) pelican is also fine.

What’s intriguing about searching for him online is that, unusually, the vast majority of results came from auctions. There are a few pieces of his work in the NRM collection including this 1960 poster. Sailing from Harwich has never looked so glamorous.

And there’s also this slightly grim NRM image of another great design.

1962 again. Must have been a vintage year for him.

This railway brochure (an object which combines both railwayana and ephemera and thus is very frightening to me indeed) came from a railway flickr set.

But that’s about it. And there’s nothing written about him either, literally all I know are his dates, 1931-1985, and even those are from Christies.

Even without information, though, people must like him because his work certainly sells. The Hastings poster above went for over £1000 at Christies four years ago, and they’ve sold lots of other posters that just don’t appear anywhere else. Like this 1965 effort for VSO – and it went for £110, what a bargain.

As well as this second lovely coach poster from 1958 (spectacularly modern for the date and costing a mere £192)

and this less characteristic piece of 1965 Times advertising as well which went for £300.

I’m going to try and find out a bit more background, but for now, here are some more coach posters to keep you happy while that happens. And if you do know anything about Royston Cooper at all, please get in contact, I’d really like to hear from you.