Lucky Dip

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.

Mount Evans Keep Our Secrets Secret fish vintage poster COI

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.

Reginald Mount Keep Britain Tidy poster park keeper

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.

Don't keep a diary vintage ww2 poster

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

Hans Unger Keep Britain Tidy 1964 COI vintage poster

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.

Tom Eckersley Weekend Living poster

Tom Eckersley holiday haunts brochure

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.

Beaumount a smile in your voice vintage GPO poster

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

Beaumont cable vintage poster GPO

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.

Weston Super Mare vintage British Railways poster

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

Tom Eckersley : life and work

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.

Tom Eckersley LCP exhibition poster Looking Back
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.

There’s no escaping this

Not with BBC iPlayer, there isn’t.  So for those of you who managed to be out there having a life on Sunday evening, and thus are still skipping around with joy in your hearts and a twinkle in your eye, here is five minutes of television to turn your gills green with envy.

It’s the Antiques Roadshow (available there for another 4 days or so).

At about 52 minutes in, you will find a man who accidentally bought 100+ vintage travel posters for 50p as an eleven year old.  Watch away, then feel free to whine and gnash your teeth along with me in the comments box.  And also tell me whether or not you think the valuation is just a bit on the high side.

For those of you who are outside the UK and thus barred from the wonder that is the BBC iPlayer, here is an executive summary.  Man goes to auction as 11 year old,  buys nondescript roll of paper which is part of job lot, ends up with 120 or so travel and other posters.  There were only 9 of his haul on show on the programme; starting with two liner posters that I’m not that fussed about, but then moving on to two Frank Newboulds for the GPO, one of which was a close relative of this one, if not identical, and neither of which I’ve ever seen before.

Frank Newbould telephone your order GPO vintage poster

Then there was a McKnight Kauffer of Buckingham Palace.

McKnight Kauffer vintage London Transport poster Buckingham Palace

And four posters by Jean Dupas, all of which look to me like book covers for Evelyn Waugh novels,

Dupas LPTB vintage poster riverside

but which are, if you want to be a bit nerdy about them, noteworthy for having the very short lived LPTB logo on them (public demand soon brought back the roundel).

Interestingly, all of these posters date from 1934.  Even more interestingly, if you’re the owner, the show’s expert valued them at £30,000+.  (I’d quite like another opinion on that, especially these days.  Or maybe she buys all her posters from Mayfair dealers.)  Then that was it, and we’re back to Fiona Bruce for another lame link.

There, now it’s just like you watched the programme, isn’t it?

Shine a light

This was sold on eBay on Friday.

Hans Schleger London Transport vintage poster

From 1944, it is a lovely piece of Hans Schleger/Zero in prime linen-mounted condition.  Mr Crownfolio and I did have rather deluded hopes of picking it up for a pittance, seeing as it was being sold in the States.  But it went for nearly £250 – unsurprisingly – which means that I can bring myself to tell you that the same seller has another one from the series on offer this week.

Hans Schleger ww2 vintage blackout poster london transport

In a way, I’m not really upset that we didn’t get the first poster.  It’s a classic, but I’m not sure I like it enough (certainly not £250 of enough).  Would it ever get framed and hung on the wall?  I don’t think so.

One of the reasons is that it may be a classic World War Two London Transport poster, but I’m not sure it’s a classic Schleger.  His posters are usually either a bit stranger, or at very least a bit wittier, like this GPO poster from just a year or two later (known in our house as the ‘Prawn Chef’).

Hans Schleger Zero GPO Posting before lunch poster

I wonder if there is a reason why his London Transport posters are so sensible.  Because the other thing that has struck me about the two offered on eBay is just how much they resemble other designers’ work on the same themes – and how much they all resemble each other.

Here’s Tom Eckersley on the other side of the question – reminding bus drivers to stop when they are hailed in the blackout.

Tom Eckersley London Transport vintage WW2 blackout poster

And also reminding the drivers to save rubber.

Tom Eckersley WW2 London Transport poster save rubber

While James Fitton (whose work really does deserve more appreciation than it gets) informs the travelling public that they too can help save this precious wartime commodity.

James Fitton Save Rubber poster London Transport WW2

And finally, we’re pretty much back at the beginning again, as Fitton also tells us how not to flag down a bus during the blackout.

James Fitton blackout London Transport WW2 poster

Two things strike me from this series.  One is what a great designer James Fitton was, in particular for his luminous use of colour.  His posters easily stand up to the work of both Eckersley and Schleger.

The other – which was the thought that started all of this off – is that, for such a diverse set of designers, the results do have more in common than I would expect.  This is mainly in the way that they’ve all used a simplicity of technique, each poster illustrating the issue fairly literally with no visual puns or distracting images.  I wonder whether, somewhere in the heart of the London Transport wartime archives, there is a memo which says: This is war.  And safety.  So don’t let the designers get away with any of their clever-clever stuff.  Oh, and on the way out, make sure you give them an airbrush.  Perhaps I should write to the London Transport Museum and ask.

Operator, I can’t find anything

I’ve been meaning for a while to do a series of posts looking at the different archives that sit out there on the web, just waiting for you to rummage through their files of wonderful vintage posters.  These resources have exploded in the last few years, and it’s now easy to find out incredible amounts about the history of posters without ever leaving your chair – the kind of research that would have taken years and many many train journeys in the past, even had it been possible at all.  So, while the archives may not be making me fitter, I am certainly now both better off, and considerably more informed than I would otherwise have been.  Hurrah for the internet.

My thoughts were that I’d start with one of the straightforwardly brilliant ones, like the London Transport Museum catalogue – a complete itemisation of every poster and artwork they own, image-led, designed for users rather than museum curators.  But in fact, I find myself wanting to begin with two really quirky ones.  So today’s is the BT archive, which until a couple of weeks ago, I didn’t even know existed.

Pieter Huveneers Telephone poster
Pieter Huveneers, c1950.

The archivist at the BPMA very kindly pointed me in their direction, because the two collections are separated siblings.  When British Telecom was split off from the GPO in 1980, they got the posters about telephones and telegraphs, and the Post Office got the ones about letters.  But the artists, the poster sizes and even the cataloguing systems are very much the same.

Hans Schleger vintage GPO poster
Zero, 1944, TCB 319/PRD 375

That, sadly, is where the resemblance ends.  The BPMA catalogue interface is lovely; it’s reasonably intuitive, I can find what I am looking for with some confidence, and all of the pictorial material is illustrated.  The BT catalogue is, if I am entirely honest, a pig.  The search logic follows its own rules, there is a wierd link called “ContextRef” which throws up an apparently random list of related material (which then defaults to the search page if you click on anything), and, worst of all, only about 10% of the material is illustrated.  What’s particularly annoying about that is that, in researching this, I’ve found a company who claim to have had the contract to digitise the entire BT archives.  So where have all these pictures gone then?  Although, on the plus side, I did find this 1948 Eckersley on their blog, and I swear I’ve never seen it before (if you have, please do say in the contact box below).

Tom Eckersley GPO vintage poster export drive

But, as you can see, I have spent rather longer than I intended sifting through page after page of slightly dry records (I don’t, I have to say, like reading catalogue numbers) in search of the few illustrations that do exist.  Because the few that are there are wonderful. This wartime Henrion is particularly wierd  – I’d like to find out more about him, some of the images are really quite disconcerting.

Henrion WW2 vintage poster GPO telephonist

Although this one, from 1951, is quite benign.

Henrion vintage poster GPO cable 1951

Then, after the best part of an evening reading ContextRef numbers and swearing, I found out how to buck the system.  Some, and quite possibly all the images are available through the BT image sales website.  Which is organised by picture, and theme, making finding images less of a needle in a haystack hunt.

Reiss telephone less vintage gpo poster
Reiss, 1945

There are disadvantages, like the fact that there are rather more pictures of trimphones and Busby than there are posters, and the images are watermarked..  But it does at least, in the advertising and wartime sections, give you a rough overview of what kind of posters the GPO was producing and whether or not you might want to look at some more.

This isn’t the first time I’ve used the image sales get round; for a long time, the only way to find out what posters the National Railway Museum held was to go via the Science and Society website.  The NRM now do have a searchable online catalogue (of a railway buff kind) which is better than the slightly random selection that Science and Society used to dole out.  But if you’re searching an archive through image sales (do you hear me V&A as well?) it’s a sign that they could, possibly, do more towards making them available on the web.

Moan over.  So here’s one last nice poster to cheer ourselves up, a faultless Unger from 1951.  Pip pip.

Pictures down the telephone line

Today, dancing about architecture.  Or at least its close relative, podcasting about posters.

Actually, I’m being a bit unfair here. What I’ve been listening to is historian Scott Anthony on the BPMA podcast about Stephen Tallents, the man who brought artists to the GPO poster and Night Mail to the nation.  Although the lecture did still have slides, and yes, I couldn’t see them.

Barnett Freedman parcels GPO vintage poster
poster by Barnett Freedman commissioned under Tallent’s watch at the GPO

Nonetheless, this was a useful listen, not least as a reminder of just how huge and influential the GPO was in the inter-war years.   The largest employer in Britain, with over quarter of a million employees, it had a monopoly of communications which is almost unimaginable today, including oversight of the BBC.  So Tallents, as their head of public relations, had enormous influence to wield and a huge audience for his efforts.

McKnight Kauffer airmail vintage GPO poster
McKnight Kauffer Airmail Routes for GPO 1935

What fascinates me most is how much the great poster art of the pre and post war periods depended on the individual patronage of a few idiosyncratic individuals.  This does not only mean Tallents – who first started using talented designers when he was at the Empire Marketing Board before joining the GPO.
Empire Marketing Board poster Austin Cooper
Austin Cooper for Empire Marketing Board, 1933

Also following a remarkably similar track were characters such as Jack Beddington at Shell,

Graham Sutherland Swanage Shell poster
Graham Sutherland, Swanage for Shell

and of course Frank Pick at London Transport.

So why did they do it?  It’s a question that I think is important, because their attitude lingered on well after the individuals themselves had left their jobs.  Major companies and institutions employed great designers and artists to produce their publicity right up until the 1960s, simply because by then it was the done thing.  So how, and why did it start?

Anthony believes that this is mostly the corporate expression of the age-old notion of patronage.  Great designers and artists were employed because that’s what important people have always done; it’s just that, after the First World War, the important people happened to be companies and public institutions rather than dukes and kings.  There is some truth in that. Nikolaus Pevsner said of Frank Pick that he was the “Lorenzo the Magnificent of our age”.

Man Ray London Transport vintage poster
Man Ray for London Transport

It’s almost possible to justify this as a logical business decision: great artists = great corporate image, which is how Anthony sees it.  But I also think that there is more to it than that.  In particular, there is a very particular belief in this period, associated with British modernism-lite, that design can be Good For You.  The lower orders will be morally improved, or at very least will stop liking chintz and veneers and pictures of kittens, if we just expose them to what great art and design is.  In its later incarnations, it brings us Utility furniture (the nation’s taste will be improved by good design because we won’t let them buy anything else) and tower blocks, which will make them happy people via the medium of modernist architecture.  But before the war, its main expression was in the commissioning of posters.

Both Jack Beddington and Frank Pick were trying to create art galleries which, while making Shell and London Transport look like forward thinking and enlightened companies, would also enrich the cultural lives of the people who saw them.

BEn Nicholson for Shell vintage poster
Paul Nash for Shell

And as a result they both – unlike for example the railway companies –  tended to commission artists at least as much as designers.  Shell used Paul Nash, Graham Sutherland, Duncan Grant and Ben Nicholson.  While London Transport commissioned Man Ray as well as McKnight Kauffer.  Even Stephen Tallents commissioned Vanessa Bell to produce a poster for the GPO (although it was never used)

Vanessa Bell unused poster design for GPO 1935

Shell explicity referrred to their lorries which carried their posters on the sides as a travelling gallery, and as John Hewitt notes, they are displayed in a ‘frame’ of white space, with the text not allowed to encroach on the image, allowing viewers to see the design as an artwork as well as advertising.

Shell Lorry with poster billboard
Shell lorry with billboard, 1925

For London Transport, Pick was even more explicit.  In 1935 he described the whole of London Transport as a work of modernist art.

…underneath all the commercial activities of the Board, underneath all its engineering and operation, there is the revelation and realisation of something which is in the nature of a work of art…It is in fact a conception of a metropolis as a centre of life, of civilisation, more intense, more eager, more vitalising than has ever so far obtained.

And how better to express that than in the modernist forms of McKnight Kauffer, for example?

McKnight Kauffer for London Transport

Even the GPO was not immune.  Anthony pointed out in the podcast that there was a Poster Advisory Group, set up by Tallents, which was there to ensure that the artworks were only of the highest quality.  Its members were Kenneth Clark, art historian and general arbiter of taste, the art critic Clive Bell and Shell’s Jack Beddington (Kenneth Clark opened exhibitions of Shell posters for Beddington; the world of good taste was a small one).  Now, this for me is a real give away about the purposes of these posters.  This committee isn’t a group of people who are going to have an opinion about the commercial effectiveness of posters, they are simply there to make sure that they conforms to the highest possible standards of prevailing artistic  merit.  The GPO, being such a huge national institution, has a moral duty to improve the quality of Britain, and Kenneth Clark and co are going to make sure that they stick to the task.  (I’d quite like, incidentally, to read the minutes of this august body.  Perhaps I’ll turn into a historian and do that one day).

airmail vintage gpo poster

(This, by Theyre Lee Elliott was the first design they approved in 1935).

But now those attitudes have almost completely disappeared.  We are too cynical to believe that good design, or indeed anything done by a corporation, can improve us.  The only national institution which has a vestige of these attitudes remaining, is the BBC, which we still believe should do us good rather than make a profit.  Whenever people talk about the BBC, though, these attitudes are always described, somewhat disparagingly, as Reithian.  I think that’s a bit unfair on poor old Lord Reith.  What Scott Anthony and all these posters have shown us is that the idea that great national institutions should improve our lives in some way, was all around between the wars.  It’s just that Lord Reith’s ideas of how this should be done are pretty much the only ones which remain.

As if to demonstrate how much the ideas of what institutions should do for us have changed, an ad for the Post Office came up on Spotify while I was writing this.  Twice.  They’re giving away iTunes gift cards to coincide with stamps of great album covers.  But the end line of the advertisement is “Win enough free music to annoy loads more people”.  Need I say any more.

The next BPMA podcast, meanwhile, is Paul Rennie, talking about GPO posters.  As someone who relishes a challenge, I’m rather looking forward to it.