Your artifact provides an opportunity to think about something. What does it mean? What can it tell us about the cultural moment in which it was made? What’s the interpretive opportunity? (If there isn’t one, you may have chosen badly. Back up and ponder: what would I like to know about this thing that I don't know now?)
For example: above, an advertisement from the Saturday Evening Post from the early 1950s for Carrier Air Conditioning. I pulled the ad from the tear sheet folder for an illustrator named Mac Conner in Walt Reed’s research files. (There are approximately 250,000 such tear sheets in said files, from the Reed Illustration Archive.) Kristin Flachsbart was kind enough to make the scan (along with others) for me. Thank you, Kristin!
Finally: do you read magazines? Do you read, for example, Cosmopolitan? Maxim? Glamour? Sports Illustrated? (You are squarely in the demographic for these publications.) If so, you consume editorial material and advertising which address you as someone who a) buys things, b) uses products and services to create or amplify your sense of identity, c) experiences desire, and quite possibly d) has sex. As a complicated human, you are capable of digesting material aimed at you because you buy, self-construct through brands, desire people and things, and are sated without being transformed into an unreflective, dumb-assed desire robot. If you know this about yourself–as I am confident that you do–you may wish to extend such awareness to other humans from other historical moments. Say, for example, Postwar American women who read The Ladies Home Journal while leading otherwise complex and conflicted lives.
I forgot to mention (here, anyway) when it went up: the folks at the Skiffy and Fanty show invited me to describe my superpower, which being: I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I don’t know a goddamn thing. (Previous visitors to the pier might recognize it as a less belligerent, more accessible version of this post.)
People do care… and you’re not the only one who has had that thought. I owe my life to my Duke friends and my therapist at Duke’s counseling center…
I live in the next town over (Chapel Hill), and I care very much about how much you’re hurting. Please reach out to those around you to stay safe. You can find out about suicide intervention resources in our community here: http://www.trianglesuicideprevention.org/r
I looked on the Duke website and found some information about the University’s Counseling and Psychological Services (CAPS). They are located at 214 Page Building and the phone number is 919-660-1000. There are people who care and they are there for a reason!
Just wanted to say…
If they’d like someone to talk to, they can email me.
Tickets for the all new “PostSecret: The Show” are available Online Now.
my first thought when looking at the picture and reading the lines was about how this postcard was a poem for itself.
By comparison, Parker circa 1959, (when flying was totally glamorous).
As a counterpoint, and as a set up for discussing key drawings (also a prior topic, most significantly here) we also looked at a stack of Harry Beckhoff tear sheets from the Charles Craver collection. (I have yet to wade into the Beckhoff file from the Walt Reed collection, but I am greatly looking forward to it!)
I simply love this stuff, both formally and dramatically.
A story told through posture.
An Art Deco tableau.
Two very different illustrators, but both characterized by wit and style.
Images: Al Parker, Restaurant fight breaking out in front of jungle wallpaper, watercolor(?) and gouache with additions in dry media, date and citation unavailable, circa 1940; Parker, Be-robed man with plumed knight’s helmet speaking with woman, watercolor(?) and gouache with additions in dry media, date and citation unavailable, circa 1940; Parker, An emblem as famous as the people it serves, two-page spread advertisement for American Airlines, circa 1959; Harry Beckhoff, “Excuse me sir, but it’s the truth!” Collier's Weekly, April 5, 1941 [all of these Beckhoff images are fiction illustrations published in Collier's]; Beckhoff, “Calfs are seldom house broke,” June 12, 1941; Miss Wilson gasped at Peter March, June 1, 1939; Beckhoff, He held is beloved drum aside, March 4, 1939; Beckhoff, We did a bit of firsting stuff together, April 9, 1938; Beckhoff, "Boys, Boys!" March 1, 1941; Beckhoff, “I smell Nassau in May,” June 17, 1939; Beckhoff, “Mr. Lethbridge,” cried Sally, “meet my fiancé!”, January 8, 1938; Beckhoff, A Sailor pulled in Two Directions, January 16, 1937.
A rustic full-page border of twigs, complete with an ant at lower right, sized for US letter paper (8½×11 inches at 400dpi).
Today marks the launch of the LibraryBox v2.0 Release Candidate 2! Now available on the LibraryBox build page, the newest release of the v2.0 of the LibraryBox codebase fixes a number of bugs that were identified in the RC1, including:
- Chat not hiding when configuration set to “no”
- Chat not re-enabling when configuration set to “yes”
- Bug in changing system hostname
At this point, I’m still looking for bug reports, but I’m pretty confident that after a bit of testing, this will be the official v2.0 release of LibraryBox. If you do find any bugs, please file a bug report on the Github repository, and we will take a look.
If you are running RC1 and want to upgrade to RC2, you can do so by following the standard upgrade instructions.