travel poster Archives - Page 6 of 8

By Eck

auctions

Hurrah, an auction; it feels as though we haven’t had one of those for ages. Even better, an interesting auction too. It’s Great Central Railwayana (9 April, Stoneleigh Showground, just in case you’re in the area). As it’s a railwayana sale, there is of course a lot of this kind of thing, here by Claude Buckle.

Because it’s a railwayana sale, there are also no estimates (why is that?) or dates either, so I can’t tell you very much about any of these posters. I can tell you that I quite like this one, more for its use of ‘twixt’ than its slightly archaic style.

And that I had to post this one, if only so that I can say by Eck.

Which is of course exactly what the picture shows.

Other than that, there is an early example of a photographic poster, which is rare, but not exactly pleasing on the eye.

Although I do rather want one of those swimsuits.

And another chance to revel in the delightfulness that is the camping coach.

As well as this Bromfield poster, which is simply good.

But the real reason that I’m enthusiastic about this auction is that they seem to have stumbled across a previously unknown treasure trove of kitsch, advertising Dublin, Blackpool and Bognor Regis for starters.

The Ladybird school of illustration is quite well represented, with not just Bognor above, but also this classic.

There are more besides, but my poster of the sale, for its pure distillation of 1950s camp has to be this one.

Oh I do wish there were estimates so I knew whether or not I could afford it.

Beck indeed

designers, posters

While I pointed out the P&O archive a while back, I also said that I wanted to come back to it. And there’s one very good reason for doing so; his name is Richard Beck.

The handful of posters that he produced for P&O are that rare thing, home-grown British modernism. And it looks first class.

Beck seems mainly to have been active in the late 1930s. All these three posters for the Orient Line apparently date from 1937.

At about the same time, he was also working for London Transport – these two panel posters were designed in 1935.

But even before the start of World War Two, Beck seems to disappear from the record for a while. He next pops up as the designer of this.

For a change, though, it’s possible to account for all of this, because there are a couple of decent biographies of him out there on the web – the best here.

To start with, his early work looks as European as it does, because he studied at the Blocherer School in Munich, so was far more exposed to European modernism than the average British designer. Hence his uber-modernist designs for London Transport, like this leaflet.

Secondly, he then disappears because he went to the other side of the world. In 1939, he went to New Zealand as design consultant for the British Pavilion at the Wellington Centennial Exhibition. And he never came back; instead he migrated to Australia, serving in the Australian Imperial Force during World War Two and then setting up a design consultancy in Melbourne when the war was over.

He did very well, too, designing not only for the Olympics (the mural above still exists in Melbourne, although it was apparently once much brighter) but also for a whole range of clients and companies, including stamps for Australia Post and the new decimal currency. And Australian wine too.

Beck did well for himself. But one of the reasons I find his story so interesting is that he wasn’t the only one. Just as British design after the war was revitalised by an influx of European designers, it seems that Australian design was also very much shaped by immigrants. Pieter Huveneers designed for at least as many Australian institutions as Richard Beck. Did the world of British graphic design seem too closed and old-fashioned for these designers, or was the appeal of a new sunshine life simply so appealing after the rigours and horrors of World War Two? We may never know. But if there’s an Australian Crownfolio reading this who has some of the answers, I’d love to hear from you.

Death and the Poster Designer

designers

I’ve always loved the smiliness of Tom Eckersley’s posters.

Tom Eckersley vintage hastings travel poster
Hastings, n/d

Between the late forties and the mid 1950s, his work is filled with cheerful characters, from spoons to beach balls.

Eno’s Fruit Salts, 1947

Bridlington, British Railways, 1955

And of course people.

Guinness, 1956

So I was rather disappointed to discover that Eckersley himself didn’t like these posters later on in his life – he said that he wanted to get rid of the whimsy and the smiling faces as they almost made him angry. Which seems a harsh judgement on something so delightful.

Then, a couple of months ago, I read an interview with the poet Jo Shapcott, in which she discussed her experience of having cancer.

I ask whether that period changed her sense of the world. She says it did, dramatically. “When Dennis Potter was dying, he filmed that famous interview, in which he talked about looking out of the window, and observing the blossominess of the blossoms with an increased urgency and joy. And I think that does happen to cancer survivors – apparently it’s really common to feel euphoria[.]

But it was her final words which really struck me – and, strangely enough reminded me of all of the posters above.

Does she still feel the euphoria she did at the end of treatment? “I do,” she says. “All these years later, it hasn’t gone away.”

Because perhaps we – and also Tom Eckersley himself – have been doing the 1950s a disservice.

It’s really easy to characterise the early 1950s as an era which was almost feeble-witted. See the women gladly strap on their floral pinnies and get back into the kitchen while the men take their pipes, sow the vegetable garden and tidy out the shed. Imagine their pleasure in a brand new fridge or washing machine. Look at their simple-minded delight in the primary colours and pretty shapes of the Festival of Britain or happy posters with smiles on.

All of which is rather patronising, and, I think, wrong.

Because these are not a new generation of air-heads but the people who have lived through six years of war. For the first time it’s not only the men on active service who’ve faced death every day, but the women and children, the clerks and the old men too; they have all spent years in which they knew that they might not make it through to the next morning. Having lived with death breathing down their necks for so long, might they not feel euphoria too once it has departed?

They weren’t being dim when they they enjoyed the simple pleasures of their home, or the visual delights of the Festival of Britain. Rather than a child-like wonder, it was the more c0mplex pleasures of people who have been through the fires and survived. Perhaps, in fact, they were both more clever and more alive than we are now?

To be fair to Tom Eckersley, he himself partly knew this. Because he also said of these posters that they were done sincerely. It was just that he couldn’t ever do them again. Maybe, in the end, the euphoria does fade after all.

Sale Number

eBay

It’s gone a bit quieter on eBay now, which is a bit of a relief, at least it is here at Crownfolio Towers because we’ve spent a bit too much recently. Nonetheless, there are still a few things worth reporting. Like this, which is one of the linen-backed London Transport posters I wrote about a while back.

It’s by Beath, it’s from 1936 and it is currently bid-free at £14.99. Now I rather like these, as perhaps rather un-English examples of good typography. But it would seem from the lack of other interest that I am perhaps alone in this. Never mind, I still might get ours framed one day.

While in the States, an unusually early poster has turned up.

Dating from 1918, it’s by Emilio Tafani and is also mounted on linen, although a little battered. And yes, I have seen the carpet.

Back in this country, the Honey Monster would like you to go skiing.

Not Studio Seven’s finest hour really.

I know nothing at all about these but I rather think I need to.

The listing is reasonably informative, and also has enough pictures to make me want them very badly.

But at £650 for the set, I can’t exactly justify it. Does anyone know any more about the history or who the artists are though? Particularly that Cooks for fruit illustration above.

There’s a bit more interest in an auction in Norfolk next week. Only a bit though as several of the posters are Of Railway Interest, like this wartime morale-booster which has a very reasonable estimate of £100-120.

Although I do find myself quite liking this pre-war design (also est £100-120).

But the most interesting, to my mind at least, is this (no estimate given).

This is partly because it’s not a railway poster but produced by the British Travel and Tourism Authority, but also because it’s by Xenia, who I’ve never come across in any other context. And it’s brilliantly mid-50s. But we’ve got one already, so it’s all yours if you want it.

Baying

eBay

Well I’d like to say that I was persuaded to write about our own eBay sales by the overwhelming vote that I should. After all, it was 100% in favour. There on the other hand, there was only one vote. But as that voter also correctly worked the eBay seller ID and outed us in the comments, there’s not much point in being coy any more. So now you can all see the piles of slightly underwhelming posters that have piled up by accident over the years.

But in a way it’s a relief. Not because I’m desperate to publicise them, but because there are one or two which I’d have definitely mentioned on here had someone else been selling them. Like this LMS/LNER poster for example.

It’s a rum ‘un. It would be quite unusual just for being a photographic railway poster produced before the Second World War (the NMSI dates it to 193o, but as the book was published in 1932 my guess would be that’s the actual date). But it’s even odder because it’s not a simple railway poster; instead it’s promoting a book about Scotland. The idea being, I assume, that you would read the book, be seized by a desire to go immediately to Scotland and then book your tickets with the railway. Which is not unreasonable, but I’ve still never seen anything like this before. Anyone else?

It came, like so much else on eBay at the moment, from the last Morphets sale. In this case, it came from one of the very last lots of assorted odds and ends, and which also included the four Jock Kinneir typeface posters. So rather a treasure trove in the end. But we will not – and I can say this with some certainty – ever put this on the wall, so it will be much better off somewhere else.

The other posters worth your time are the black and white tourist posters

Not immediately prepossessing, I’ll admit. But that’s part of the reason why they’re interesting. The posters (there’s a few, but I’ll spare you the rest) are all in various shades of black and white, ranging from greenish to sepia, and are printed on some really quite poor paper.

It’s not exactly how you might imagine advertising inercontinental tourism to the Americans in the early 1950s (these posters originally came from the States, so that’s what I’m assuming they were over there doing).

But technicolour was out of reach for Britain after the war; this slightly shoddy monochrome was all the country could afford at the time. So these posters are another reminder of the hardships of the post-war period, when every ounce of the country’s production and economic muscle had to go on exports, as the debts of the war had to be repaid. I wonder whether must sometimes have felt harder than the war itself, like running a marathon and then discovering that you’ve got to walk home.

But that’s not the only reason to look at them. Because, elsewhere on eBay, this is also for sale.

Similarly tatty, but if anything a slightly more challenging image of docks rather than historic castles (I wonder whether any Americans did come over to visit the Lancashire Docks as a result of this poster campaign; I am inclined to suspect not). But this seller has priced his at £49.99, ours started at just 99p.

So who’s right? What’s this poster really worth? Normally I’m in favour of starting with a low opening price on eBay, on the basis that if you’ve described it and photographed it well, a good poster will find its level. But I have to say that a sale in the last few weeks (about which I will blog later this week) has made me wonder whether that’s always true.

It still works for posters like an Eckersley or a Games, where people are searching for those designers and their works. I think that’s probably true of railway posters too. But with less well-known types like these, where there aren’t any obvious keywords that will be searched on, then what do you do? In our case, put them on at 99p because we want to get rid of them – but also put them on with some posters that will be found in searches so that poster collectors might actually see them. And a couple of these have now gone up to £5 already, so they do have some value. But will they ever be worth £50? Perhaps to one person and I’ve got it wrong. Or perhaps not; we will see.

And finally, when I was researching this in the LT Museum catalogue (it says it’s from 1967 and by Peter Roberson on the bottom so I don’t quite know what else I was expecting to find out)

I found this.

Isn’t that fantastic? Does anyone have one going spare? I promise I’ll pay more than 99p for it.

Golf and pageantry

auctions, eBay

The weather is grey, the economy going into a tailspin, but still those auctions keep on coming. This week’s offering is from The International Poster Center in New York.

Because it’s in New York, it’s heavy on the usual suspects of Art Nouveau, bicycle posters (which for some reason that escapes me are disproportionally collected and expensive), French travel posters and so on. Although I do quite like this Cassandre, if only as a terrible warning of what television might do to you.

Cassandre 1951 vintage poster for Phillips television
Cassandre, 1951, est. $1,400-1,700

Naturally there are golf posters too, although here at least there is a small amount of British interest.

Rowland Hilder come to Britain for golf vintage travel poster
Rowland Hilder, est. $1,200-1,500

Andrew Johnson, 1930, est. $2,000-3,000

People with lots of money do choose the oddest things sometimes.

Elsewhere there are a few more British odds and ends, although they tend towards the traditional, you might even say stereotypical view of Britain. Golf and pageantry, that is probably what we mean to the Americans.

Christopher Clark Trooping the Colour poster 1952 vintage travel british railways
Christopher Clark, 1952, est. $1,500-2,000

Seeing as we’re here, the poster above raises an interesting question about dating. The auction house have dated it as 1932. Which is approximately when the picture was painted, but given that it was previously issued in 1930 as an LMS poster, I’m not even sure that that’s quite right. Here’s the earlier poster from 1930.

But neither of these are really the date of the poster, as the British Railways logo shows – it was actually printed in 1952. So which is the answer ? I suppose it depends whether you’re seeing this as a print of the painting, or as a poster itself. I’d date it at 1952 on that basis – what do you reckon?

Along the same lines is this, which might as well be a print of a painting rather than the Southern region poster it claims to be.

Anna Zinkeisen Southern Region poster Laying of Foundation Stone at Southampton Docks
Anna Zinkeisen, 1938, est. $2,000-2,500

The frame is particularly bemusing, because the description says merely,

B+/ Slight tears at horizontal fold.

but the image on NMSI has no such frame. So what is going on here? Search me.

Fortunately there are a couple of pieces of modernity to lighten the day. Like this Austin Cooper, even if the image is stubbornly retrograde today.

Austin Cooper golliwog vintage London Transport poster Shop between 1928
Austin Cooper, 1928, est. $1,200-1,700

Along with this McKnight Kauffer.

McKnight Kauffer vintage shell poster lubricating oil 1937
McKnight Kauffer, 1937, est. $1,000-1,200

Now the McKnight Kauffer isn’t alone, because one thing that the New York auction does have going for it is an interesting selection of Shell posters.

Vintage Shell poster friend to the farmer Applebee 1952
Leonard Applebee, 1952, est. $700-900

Harold Hussey, 1952, est. $700-900

These two are the most pedestrian of the bunch, but I’m putting them here because the estimates seem quite high. I can say this from a position of some confidence, given that we bought one of these on eBay for the grand sum of just £12.50 a few years ago.

This Ben Nicholson, however, is great.

Ben Nicholson vintage shell poster Guardsmen use Shell 1938
Ben Nicholson, 1938, est. $800-1,000

But I also rather like this, by Sir Cedric Lockwood Morris.

Summer Shell vintage poster by Cedric Lockwood Morris
Cedric Morris, 1938, est. $800-1,000

I like it and him even better for having read this fantastic reminiscence. Anyone who gets into a fight with Munnings has a lot going for them.

Should any of these take your fancy, you can bid online via LiveAuctioneers. But I have to warn you that buyers’ commission comes in at a rather painful 22.5%, and then you’ve got to get the thing back over the Atlantic too.

All of which makes eBay seem an attractive option. If only there was anything out there to buy. All I can offer you at the moment is a lot of rather late Public Information Posters. Which I’m mainly pulling out to reinforce a point I’ve made before, which is that National Savings posters are rarely design classics.

The only one I come close to liking is this incentive to teeth-brushing.

But I’m not sure I’d pay the £9.99 they’re asking, although I am sure someone will.

The best lot I can find at the moment isn’t even a poster.

The cover design for this LP is by Reginald Mount. But it would be wasted tucked away on a shelf.

There was one good thing on eBay this week, but we bought it. So I’ll share that with you when it arrives.