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Savoy Operas with Illustrations by W. Russell Flint

August 25, 2016, 9:00 pm
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Savoy opera was a style of comic opera that developed in Victorian England  in the late 19th century, with  W.S. Gilbert and Arthur Sullivan  as the original and most successful practitioners. The name is derived from the Savoy Theatre, which impresario Richard D'Oyly Carte built to house the Gilbert and Sullivan  pieces, and later, those by other composer–librettist teams. The great bulk of the non-G&S Savoy Operas either failed to achieve a foothold in the standard repertory, or have faded over the years, leaving the term "Savoy Opera" as practically synonymous with Gilbert and Sullivan. The Savoy operas (in both senses) were seminal influences on the creation of the modern musical. (Wikipedia)


Savoy Operas (1909), as published by George Bell & Sons (London), includes four 'Libretti' from Gilbert and Sullivan: 'The Pirates of Penzance; or, The Slave of Duty'; 'Patience; or, Bunthorne's Bride'; 'Princess Ida; or, Castle Adament'; and 'The Yeomen of the Guard; or, The Merryman and his Maid'.
For each of the works, William Russell Flint prepared eight colour illustrations so that the combined collection for ''Savoy Operas'' (1909) comprised 32 images. A year later, George Bell & Sons produced the companion volume, "Iolanthe and Other Operas" with a further 32 colour illustrations from Russell Flint.
THE PIRATES OF PENZANCE

"Pour, oh pour the pirate Sherry; fill, oh fill the pirate glass"

"I am a pirate!"

"Too late! Ha! Ha!"

"Away, you grieve me!"

Dance of the pirates

"With cat-like tread, upon our prey we steal"

A struggle ensues between pirates and police

PATIENCE
OR BUNTHORNE'S BRIDE

CHORUS
Twenty love-sick maidens we,
Love-sick all against our will.
Twenty years hence we shall be
Twenty love-sick maidens still.
"I cannot tell what this love may be
that comesth to all, but not to me"

"Red and yellow! Primary colours!  Oh, South Kensington!"

"I thought as much! - I thought as much!
He was a little boy!"

"Archibald! Is it possible?"

Enter Bunthorne, crowned with roses and hung about with garlands

"Silvered is the raven hair"


PRINCESS IDA

"I can tell a woman's age in half a minute - and I do"

Enter the Princess reading

Enter "the Daughters of the Plough," bearing luncheon

Frontispiece
"If it be well, to droop and pine and mope, to sigh 'Oh, Ida Ida! all day long, then Prince Hilarion is very well"

The gate yield. Hildebrand and soldiers rush in.

"Though I am but a girl,
Defiance thus I hurl"

"Where are your rifles, pray?"


THE YEOMEN OF THE GUARD
OR THE MERRYMAN AND HIS MAID
I didn't become head-jailer because I liked head-jailing

I have a song to sing, O !
 Sing me your song, O !
Wilfred binds Elsie's with a kerchief

"The prisoner comes to meet his doom"

"Ah! 't but melancholy mumming when poor heartbroken jilted Jack Point must needs turn to hugh Ambrose for original light humor!"

"Nay, Sweetheart, be comforted, This Fairfax was but a pestilent fellow"

It's the song of a merryman, moping Mum




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"Seven" - Science Fiction Pin Up by Pierangelo Boog

August 28, 2016, 9:00 pm
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Moritz Kennel: Illustrationen zu Alice im Wunderland, 1. Teil

August 31, 2016, 9:00 pm
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Wer während der Jahre 1950 - 1970 aufwuchs, begegnete sicher häufig den farbenfrohen Illustrationen von Moritz Kennel (1911 - 1984) , sei es als Schokoladen-Sammelbilder zu N.P.C.K.-Alben - man kann das nur anhand des Stils vermuten, denn zu jener Zeit wurden die Namen der Illustratoren oft aus unerfindlichen Gründen hartnäckig verschwiegen - sei es als Bilder zu Ringgi- und Zofi-Alben oder als Schutzumschläge zu Ernie Heartings Serie über berühmte Indianerhäuptlinge. Wir werden hier gelegentlich Illustrationen von Kennel vorstellen und beginnen mit den Bildern zu Lewis Carrolls Alice im Wunderland. Der Silva Verlag Zürich veröffentlichte den Band 1971. Immerhin fanden Kennels Bilder doch andernorts auch  ihre Wertschätzung, denn 1975 erschien eine Ausgabe im Phaidon Verlag.
Ein Kränzchen sei Christoph Roos gewunden, denn er hat etwas Informationen zu Moritz Kennel in seinem Blog geliefert: http://rooschristoph.blogspot.ch/2013/03/moritz-kennel.html


In der Höhle des Kaninchens
Das närrische Kaninchen zieht wahrhaftig eine Uhr aus der Tasche.

Alice fällt kopfvoran ins Wunderland und die Fledermäuse staunen.

Auf dem Tisch stand eine Flasche, und auf der Flasche stand: Trink mich!

Erschöpft setzte sich Alice auf den Boden und weinte bitterlich.

Wie schmeckt doch so ein Kuchen gut, da beisst man gern hinein.

Der Tränenteich
Akice wurde grösser und grösser und stiess mit dem Kopf gegen die Decke der Höhle an.

Die vielen Tränen bildeten bald einmal einen 10 Zentimeter tiefeb Tränenteich.

Wer plätschert denn da herum? Eine Maus, eine richtige, silbergraue Maus.

Mit einem kühnen Satz springt die Maus aus den Tränen heraus und schüttelt sich.

Ein Kaukus-Rennen und eine lange Geschichte
Der teich füllte sich bald mit Vögeln und anderen Tieren.

Alle setzten sich im Kreis um Alice herum.

Alice hatte gerade genug Mandeln, um allen in der Runde eine zu spenden.

"Wie schade, dass sie nicht bleiben wollte", seufzte der farbige Papagei.

Beim Kaninchen zu Hause
Hinter den Bäumen entdeckte Alice wieder das närrische Kaninchen.

Mitten im Wald stand stand ein kleines, hübsches Haus.

Erschrocken fiel der Hase durch die Glaslücke in das Treibhaus hinein.

Alice spreizte nochmals die Hand zum Fenster hinaus.

Immer weiter und weiter geht es jetzt in den dichten Wald hinein.

Ein junger, riesengrosser Hund glotzt hinter einem Baum hervor.

Der Rat der Raupe
Seltsam, die grosse, auf dem Hut eines Pilzes rauchende Raupe!

Urahne sprang auf den Küchentisch und brüllte: "Muhmuhmuh!"

 Alice konnte von sich selber nichts mehr sehen als ein endloses Stück Hals.

 "Als ob ich nicht mit dem Brüten schon genug Plage hätte", sagte die Taube.

Das Ferkel und der Pfeffer
 Auf einem offenen Platz stand ein kleines, ungefähr anderhalb Meter hohes Haus.

 Der Fischlakai zog unter dem Arm einen Brief hervor.

 Die Herzogin sass auf einem dreibeinigen Hocker und wiegte ein kleines Kind.

 Die Köchin warf einen ganzen Hagel von Schüsseln, Tellern und Töpfen nach der Herzogin.

Alice packte das Kind am linken Ohr und am rechten Fuss und schleppte es ins Freie.

Die Katze grinste nur, als sie Alice sah.



English edition with the illustrations by Moritz Kennel




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Moritz Kennel: Illustrationen zu Alice im Wunderland, 2. Teil

September 3, 2016, 9:00 pm
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Eine verrückte Teegesellschaft
 Die Kamine auf dem Dach hatten die Form von langen Ohren.

 Alice setzte sich zum Märzhasen, zum Murmeltier und zum Hutmacher ans Ende der langen Tafel.

 Der Märzhase tauchte seine Uhr in den Tee, weil sie zwei Tage hintendrein ging.

 Das ist die Sirupmühle, von der das Murmeltier erzählt.

 Alice stand wütend auf und ging davon.

 Sehr sonderbar...in einem der Bäume war eine Tür, die geradewegs in den Stamm hineinführte.

Der Krocketplatz der Königin
 Wunderbar der Garten mit den herrlichen Blumenbeeten und dem kühlen Brunnen.

 Die drei Gärtner malten die weissen Rosen mit roter Farbe an, weil die Königin rote Rosen wollte.

 Das ist die Herzkönigin, und sie fragte Alice: "Wie heisst Du, Kind?"

 Mit dem Flamingo als Schläger und dem Igel als Kugel musste Alice Krocket spielen.

 Als Alice sagte, die Königin gefalle ihr gar nicht, stand diese dicht hinter ihr und hörte zu.

 Die beiden Igel balgten sich, und Alice dachte, das sei eine glänzende Gelegenheit, den einen mit dem andern zu krockieren.

 "Wie froh bin ich doch, dich wiederzusehen, mein liebes Herz", sagte die Herzogin.

 Auf einer Wiese lag ein Greif in tiefem Schlaf an der Sonne.

 Die falsche Schildkröte sass traurig und einsam auf einem Felsvorsprung.

 Alle setzten sich nieder und schwiegen mehrere Minuten lang.

 Der Grei hob vor Überraschung beide Vorderpfoten in die Höhe.

 "Robben, Seehunde, Schildkröten in zwei Reihen", schrie die falsche Schildkröte.

 "Macht einen Purzelbaum ins Meer", befahl die falsche Schildkröte dieses Mal.

" Bei einem Wirte wundermild ein Hummer war geladen!", hat Alice etwas verwirrt ihr Gedicht aufgesagt.

 "Später kommt dann in grosser Eile ein schwarzer Panther und eine Eule", fuhr Alice mit zitternder Stimme fort.

Wer hat die Kuchen gestohlen?
 Der Herzkönig und die Herzkönigin halten Gericht.

 Einer der Geschworenen wusste nicht einmal wie man Bagage schreibt.

 Das weisse Kaninchen, als Herold der Anklage, stiess dreimal in die Trompete.

 "Majestät, ich bin ein armer Mann", sagte der Hutmacher mit zitternder Stimme.

 Der Hutmacher lief aus dem Gerichtssaal davon, so schnell er konnte.

 Die nächste Zeugin war dei Köchin der Herzogin. Sie trug die Pfefferbüchse in der Hand.

 Alice warf mit dem Zipfel ihres Kleides die ganze Geschworenenbank um.

 Der König las: "Alle Personen, die länger sind als ein Kilometer, haben den Gerichtssaal zu verlassen."

 Das weisse Kaninchen setzte seine Brille auf und las den Brief vor.

Alle Karten stiegen in die Luft und flatterten dann wieder zu Boden.
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The Lily of Life illustrated by HELEN STRATTON

September 6, 2016, 9:00 pm
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Helen Isobel Mansfield Ramsey Stratton (1867–1961) was born in Nowganj, Bundelkhand, Madhya Pradesh, India on 5 April 1867, the daughter of a surgeon in the Indian military service John Proudfoot Stratton (1830-1895) and Georgina Anne Anderson.
From 1896 Stratton became well known for bold and imaginative pen and ink illustrations to classic tales, her first success being Norman Gale's Songs for Little People, of which The Bookseller wrote in 1896 "Miss Stratton has headed, tailed and bordered the verses with a series of exquisitely pictured fancies". In 1898 she drew 167 illustrations for Walter Douglas Campbell's Beyond the Border, then a year later reached the peak of her illustration career with upwards of four hundred drawings for a finely crafted art nouveau quarto edition of The Fairy Tales of Hans Christian Andersen, published by George Newnes  In the same year she collaborated with William Heath Robinson and three other illustrators (A D McCormick, A L Davis and A E Norbury) to create hundreds of illustrations for The Arabian Nights Entertainments, initially published in sections, then later in a large quarto edition. Although initially noted for her black and white illustrations she also illustrated in watercolour for works such as H.C. Herbertson's Heroic Legends (1908) and Jean Lang's A Book of Myths (1915). Her work for The Princess and the Goblin  by George MacDonald and its sequel The Princess and Curdie (1912) were particularly popular and have been frequently reprinted.




 
Frontispiece 
In the middle of the black water, growing in stately solitude, was a lily – a lily from which an intensely brilliant light seemed to pour. A lily so dazzling, so perfect, so supernaturally pure, that the only sensation that possessed the soul at the sight was the desire to sink on one's knees and adore it. It was larger than any lily Corona had ever seen, but of the same shape and kind as those she had in her own garden at home.

The castle was like a fairy castle, high up, overlooking the sea, and terrace upon terrace of green marble led down to the silver-sanded shore. There was a long flight of golden steps on each side, guarded by a line of tall cypresses; and when you looked up along it it seemed like Jacob's ladder. But only those who felt very nimble cared to climb it daily; others shook their heads and smiled, but preferred to think of Jacob's angels flying upwards, using their snow white wings, which is, it seems, not at all a tiring way of climbing stairs. The twin Princesses were as happy as the day was long, and although they were already sixteen, they still had many studies.
One day, as the sisters penetrated deep into the forest, they came to a shining pool of dark water, a sort of deep large hole, that looked as if it were bottomless. They were hot from their long gallop, so they slid off their faithful horses, and both stood leaning against them, as the thirsty animals stretched their glossy necks to reach the cool water.

All the birds sang around them, and a nightingale lifted its sweet voice and sang its eternal song of love – that song so sweet to happy lovers, so unutterably sad to those who stand alone. And the little lizards on the ground came out to look at the beautiful couple, the butterflies, blue and yellow and snow-white, circled around them, and a great, brown-eyed gazelle peered timidly through the branches; even a little white hare forgot its usual fear, and sat up on its hind legs, craning its neck to see.

The grey dawn grew out of the fearful darkness, and a pale gleam of light lit up the horizon. Corona once more raised her head, and her golden hair fell away like great sunlit waves from her face, which looked out between them like the face of a drowned corpse, her eyes wide open with the fear of all she had seen. All her blood seemed to have left her body, blanching even her lips. But suddenly thought came back to her clearly, and with it the vision of Ilario dying, whom she had gone forth to save.
The woman raised her head, and her eyes had a far-away look; and in a monotonous voice, as if recalling some chant of other days, she spoke:
"In a far-off country, which can be reached only by one person quite alone, who has made the promise of utter silence during all her wanderings, there stands in the middle of a strange and awful forest, inhabited by cruel beasts, a temple of snow-white marble, composed of six separate courts, each guarded by a different kind of wild beast. In the sixth and innermost court of all there lies a pool of dark water, and in the midst of the pool grows the Lily of Life; its whiteness is so intense, that human eye cannot look upon it without becoming blind.

He had given up questioning her, when he found that for some reason she could not or would not answer him, and lay there like a faithful dog, guarding her with all his jealous devotion, little understanding what a difficulty his presence caused, and how she was pondering in what way she could make him understand that he must not follow her. By degrees his gasping breath became calmer, and she noticed that he had dropped into a peaceful sleep. But Corona sat straight and still, her eyes fixed on the darkness, with the vision always before her eyes of the sick man on his bed of suffering, and of her sister lying with her head on his feet.



Suddenly she heard the sweet voice of the little bird, singing! singing! Oh, the joy of that sweet song! Did some kind angel send her the little bird, to keep her from despair? What was the magic power in that bird's voice, to make her feel life coming back each time it sang?

"What doest thou here in my region? How darest thou come and disturb my eternal silence? By what right does thy foot awaken echoes in this place of the forgotten? See here!"– and the man pointed to a place where a great number of rocks, all about the same size, gleamed in the cold light. "Look closer!" he ordered. "Those are not rocks – they are the bodies of all who disturbed my eternal rest with their voices and their echoing steps!"

That brave little voice sent forth all its perfection of sound, and Corona, quite unconsciously, climbed higher and higher. The nearer the top she came, the warmer was the air, and the sweeter did the little brown bird sing.


Again Corona shook her head, pointing to her wounded feet, her torn hands and clothes, making them understand that she was weary, weary unto death! The young man led her to a bed of skins in the corner, and all the time he kept gazing at her beautiful face; and shyly and with wonder he touched the tissue of her dark blue cloak, the torn but beautiful under-dress, and the golden belt round her waist. But when he saw the state of her bleeding feet he brought a rough, wooden basin, and very gently, with his awkward hands, bathed her feet in cold water, which made her wince with pain.

The moment she was seated the stag rose, and with a swinging stride started off, winding in and out of the trees, cleverly avoiding the branches which threatened to catch his enormous antlers. Corona held on by their help, and she felt strangely confident in this king of the forest who had offered his services to her in so grand and simple a manner. They advanced with great rapidity, Corona wondering if all were well, and if he were taking her where she wished to go. Soon the forest became so thick, the trees grew so close to each other, that they could advance but slowly, and at last the noble creature stopped, being unable to pass any longer, because of the size of his antlers.

She awoke only as the first streaks of dawn penetrated the cloak of darkness that night had laid over all things, good and bad. She woke with a start, and the sight she saw as her eyes opened was at once fearful and magnificent. In great circles, ten deep, innumerable wild beasts: black panthers and tigers, spotted leopards, and great brown, huge-headed bears, and, more awful than all, round the trunks of trees were wound huge serpents. Corona sat up, and the fearful reality came back to her awakened mind. But her little lamp still burnt bravely on the ground at her side, shedding but little light now that daybreak was at hand.
As she came near, the door seemed suddenly to tremble, and Corona, quite unintentionally, touched it with the flower.

"But," then, she sadly said to herself, "perhaps they are happier than I!" And she stretched her arms towards Heaven with a gesture of mute prayer. Everything there seemed to be mounting towards that blue sky of promise: the dark cypresses, the blue smoke in the precious bowls, Corona's outstretched arms, and the mute cry of supplication that came from her soul.

Gently they descended, always nearer and nearer to where he stood, and when he saw what it was that they were carrying it seemed to him as if his heart would break with a joy too great to bear. At last the swans tenderly laid down the dark-blue cloak, and there stood Corona, his mistress, his sweet mistress! but with something about her which awed him to silence.

And as she pronounced that word "me" Corona felt a dagger pierce her heart. Now she bent down over the still form, and gently, with the Lily of Life, touched his brow, his eyes, his lips, his heart, his hands, and hardly had she done so when a marvellous change came over the prostrate figure, the face took its usual colour, the rigid limbs relaxed, and suddenly he sat up, and then sprang to his feet, standing tall and slender and vigorous once more in his crimson gown. And with a cry of joy, "Mora!" he had thrown his arms round his bride, and her head was upon his breast, and his warm, living kisses covered her hair, her face, her lips. . . .
The night was dark, and Yno groped his way down the golden stairs, where the torches had burnt out and the garlands of roses were letting their petals fall softly one by one. He reached the seashore, and there – oh, God! – lay the sweet form of his mistress, and the first rays of the rising moon shone upon her face. It was deathly white, but her pale lips were parted as if with a smile of happiness, and both her beautiful hands were clasped upon her heart – her broken heart.



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William Edward Wigfull: Illustrations for war and adventure books

September 9, 2016, 9:00 pm
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William Edward Wigfull was born in Sheffield in 1875, thebyoungest child of William and Ann. Wigfull lived in or had a houseboat on Benfleet Creek. He was , professionally, an illustrator, both for nespapers and books and magazines.
One only finds meagre information on the artist in the Web.


















Frontispiece
THE LASCARS BUNDLED THE BODIES INTO THE LIFEBOAT

 THE TWO MEN DISAPPEARED OVER THE SIDE OF THE SHIP

 HEBEGAN TO TURN THE LOCKING DEVICE, SLOWLY AND FIRMLY

TWO TO ONE








Frontispiece
THE U-BOAT DIVED SO APRUPTLY THAT HER RUDDERS AND TWIN-SCREWS WERE CLEAR OF THE WATER


"ENGLISH OFFIZIER-PIG!" HE SHOUTED, "WE YOU TAKE PRISONER".


THE BIPLANE HAD GOT INTO A SPINNING NOSE-DIVE



THE PILOT THREW A BOMB FULL IN THE FACE OF A PRUSSIAN UNTER-LEUTNANT.

"SHE'S GOING, LADS!" SHOUTED BRANSCOMBE.




Frontispiece
FLOATING SERENELY ON THE SURFACE WAS A SUMARINE; ONE
OF THE MOST MODERN OF THE GERMAN UNTERBOOTEN


THE CALDER HELD GRIMLY AND SWIFTLY ON HER WAY

WITH A WELL-DIRECTED BLOW DICK PLANTED HIS CLENCHED
FIST SQUARELY UPON THE POINT OF THE MAJOR'S CHIN.


BEFORE THE TURKISH IRREGULARS COULD PENETRATE THE
DECEPTIONS THE TWO BRITISH OFFICERS WERE THROUGH.


THE TWO SEAMEN HAULED HIM INTO SAFETY.



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THE THIRD OFFICER by Percy F. Westerman illustrated by E.S. Hodgson and Zdenek Burian

September 12, 2016, 9:00 pm
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The Third Officer, A Present-day Pirate Story by Percy F. Westerman, illustrated by Edward Smith Hodgson was first published by Blackie & Son Limited, London and Glasgow, 1921.


Percy F. Westerman 1876-1959
Despite Edward Smith Hodgson, a British painter and illustrator, illustrated a large number of  Westerman's books, there is no information on his life in the Web. Danger! (sub-titled "Being the Log of Captain Sirius") is a short story written by Arthur Conan Doyle,  first published in The Strand Magazine in july 1914, it was illustrated by E.S. Hodgson

 Frontispiece
She was a light cruiser of about 4000 tons

Black Strogoff addresses the "Donibristle's" crew

A dash for freedom

 
 The fate of Ah Ling

Illustrations  for The Third Officer by Zdenek Burian 1937


The third Officer Alwyn Burgoyne

His colour deepened under his tan as he replied: "You'll be getting me into a jolly hole if you persist."

Almost every officer and man on the deck of the Donibristle knew the significance of the signal. They had not served in the Outer Patrol during the Great War, when the examination of neutral merchantmen was an everyday occurrence, without learning to understand the peremptory command: "Heave-to instantly, or I will fire into you".
Such a mandate coming from a vessel flying the White Ensign was not to be treated with levity or contempt. Deeply puzzled, Captain Blair stepped to the engine-room telegraph and was about to ring for "Stop" when a startled voice—the First Officer's, although it was hardly recognizable—shouted:
"They're not bluejackets, sir; they're Chinks."

Outside this a sentry was posted, while, as an additional precaution, that for some reason was not taken in the case of the men, four villainous-looking Orientals, armed to the teeth, were stationed with the prisoners.


On landing, the Donibristle's crew were formed up in a hollow square, with armed guards patrolling the outer face of the formation. Here they were kept in suspense for more than a quarter of an hour, until the arrival of the pirate captain, Don Ramon Porfirio, attended by his lieutenants, Pablo Henriques and Black Fritz Strogoff.
Ramon Porfirio was a Bolivian by birth, but had spent most of his time since the age of sixteen in various seaports of Chili and Peru. He was about thirty-five years of age, of medium height, and inclined to corpulence. His features were remarkable, his face being round and flabby;...it will be necessary only to portray the third pirate officer, "Black" Fritz Strogoff. He was short in stature, being only about five feet four inches, and grotesquely broad in proportion to his height. He had hardly any neck, literally speaking, although figuratively he possessed plenty. His features were swarthy, while by a curious contrast his hair was of a light straw colour.
The men heard his appeal in stolid silence. The offer fell on deaf ears. They were "not having any". Ramon Porfirio would have to cast his net elsewhere to obtain his recruits.
 

The two chums were passing within thirty yards of the hut with the canvas annexe that formed the "galley ". As they did so a grimy, laughing face with a mass of cropped hair appeared through a slit in the canvas, and a hand was waved in friendly greeting.

The pirate in charge of the boat signed for the men to continue rowing, and steered towards the entrance. They were going to fish in the lagoon it appeared.


It was the Peruvian's cowardly performance with his boots that gave Burgoyne his chance. In his blind fury the half-caste slipped. Before he could recover his balance Alwyn was up and striking hard. The Peruvian's enormous hand was gripping his neck, but Burgoyne was jabbing lightning-like punches right over the fellow's heart. Like the rattle of a pneumatic hammer the Englishman's right fist pummelled his opponent's ribs, until the half-caste's clutch relaxed. Breaking away, Burgoyne summoned his remaining energies and delivered a terrific straight left full on the point of the pirate's jaw. The force of the blow lifted the huge bulk completely off the ground. Staggering and already unconscious, he toppled backward over the ropes into the midst of the crowd of spectators.

At the first opportunity Burgoyne broached the subject to Captain Blair. The Old Man listened carefully to the Third Officer's recital, then, to the latter's utter astonishment he said:
"I'm sorry, Mr. Burgoyne, but I refuse to give you or anyone else permission to make the attempt."

The actual descent took four minutes. To Burgoyne it seemed much longer, and it was with considerable relief that he felt his feet touch the soft sand, and was able to extricate his cramped and bruised frame from the embraces of the bowline.

Suddenly a dazzling glare leapt from the vessel and the giant beam of a searchlight swept the island. From where the three officers lay prone on the grass they could see the rim of the cliff outlined in silver. The crest of the Observation Hill was bathed in the electric gleams, but elsewhere, owing to the depression towards the centre of the plateau, the island was in darkness.
 
 Swimming close to the rocks on the island side of the channel, he arrived at the entrance to the harbour, and was glad to find his feet touch bottom just within the southern spur of rock that practically enclosed the anchorage.
 
 The next instant a flash of flame leapt from the pirates' look-out station, and a bullet whizzed shrilly above the heads of the fugitives, ricochetting fifty yards beyond the boat.

Alwyn found himself swimming mechanically with one arm, while the other held up his charge. He was dimly aware that the sea was no longer breaking but was a succession of heavy, crestless rollers, the tops feathered with spray flung upward by the howling wind.

With the frenzy of despair he regained his feet, and bending low under the weight of his burden—he was now carrying Hilda across his back like a sack of flour, but how he managed it he had not the slightest idea—he staggered rather than ran up the shelving, yielding sand until he dimly remembered stumbling blindly against the trunk of a tree.

A little farther on they discovered an oar, a length of grass rope, and another copper air-tank, all of which they collected and placed well above high-water mark.
"One minute, sir," interrupted Minalto. "What be that? We ne'er had no li'l barrel in the boat, did us?"
He pointed to a small cask, half buried in the sand It was encrusted with barnacles, and growing marine whiskers a foot or more in length.

But before the last pig had disappeared in the brushwood Jasper hurled his spear with tremendous force. The aim was good, and the nail-shod tip struck the luckless animal just behind the fore-quarters.

 So they launched a boat and rowed ashore: eight men armed with rifles, and our old friend Strogoff sporting a pair of automatics. I thought it high time to sheer off, so I crept back for about fifty yards and again watched developments."

Without hesitation Mostyn and Jasper both raised their rifles and took rapid aim. Both weapons barked simultaneously, even as Black Strogoff wildly loosed ten rounds from his pistol. The next instant the automatic was violently wrenched from the pirate-lieutenant's hand, leaving Strogoff not only defenceless, but with a dislocated wrist and his face cut in half a dozen places by fragments of the splayed nickel bullet.

The two Australian airmen did their work neatly and effectively. Standing in pursuit they sat on the tail of the pirate seaplane, and with one burst from a Lewis gun sent the latter down in a spinning nose-dive, with the machine a mass of flames.

Then in quick succession it released four powerful bombs. One secured a direct hit, blowing a block-house to atoms, while the others, falling close to the second machine-gun post, damaged it so severely that only three badly-scared men emerged from the ruins, and fled panic-stricken to a shelter of a more substantial nature.

Their method of working was simple and effective. At the entrance to each dug-out they summoned the inmates to surrender. The invitation was invariably declined with expressions of rage and defiance until a smoke bomb was neatly lobbed into the underground retreat. In a very brief space of time a dozen or more half-suffocated rogues would appear staggering through the smoke, to be secured and bound almost without resistance by the burly Australian bluejackets.



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Zürich ohne uns - wenn der Mensch verschwindet ! Sonderdruck-Edition

September 12, 2016, 11:39 pm
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Vor Jahren im Magazin "Schweizer Familie" je doppelseitig 
erschienen, nun in der letzten Ausgabe der "Sonntagszeitung"
vom 11. Sept. 2016, habe ich zu diesem aktuellen Anlass eine
kleine Edition dieser drei Ansichten ins Leben gerufen.
 
3 Bilder, Grösse DinA3 quer, 60 sFr. plus 10 sFr. Porto.
Zu bestellen über angelo.boog@sunrise.ch
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Twenty-two Goblins by Arthur W. Ryder illustrated by Perham W. Nahl

September 15, 2016, 9:00 pm
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Perham Wilhelm Nahl also known as Perham Nahl (January 11, 1869 – April 9, 1935) was an American printmaker, painter, illustrator and an arts educator active in Northern California.




 Frontispiece
Love cluster...stood at her lattice window.


They took her body to the cemetery an burned it.

The trush suddenly became a goddess.

Trusty worshipped the goddess and bravely saluted her.

The giant came out in anger and the brave man fought with him.

"Do nothing rash, my daughter, leave the rope alone."


Good sank into the ocean, and when he looked about he saw a wonderful city.

The brothers went to the ocean, and there they found a turtle.

"I understand the cries of all beasts and birds."

She gradually recovered consciousness.

When he saw that she was saved, the king cried "Come, come to me!"

The summer came on him like a lion.

With a turn of the wrist he sent the dagger flying from the chief's hand.

An elephant came by, crushing the people in his path.

He climbed the rock of sacrifice, eager to give his life for another.

"Shall I go into the fire or go home?"

The giant laughed aloud, spit fire in his wrath, and showed his dreadful fangs.

A merchant named Fortune, richer than the God of Wealth.

The lion arouse and killed his four creators.

He comforted her and  soothed her with tender words.


Endpaper
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Paul Hey: Künstleransichtskarten 1. Teil

September 18, 2016, 9:00 pm
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Vor gewisser Zeit zeigten wir Paul Heys Bilder zu Sang und Klang für's Kinderherz. In den neueren Ausgaben wurden Soldatenlieder verbannt. Aber die Bilder dazu  gehören auch zu Heys Schaffen und sollten deshalb auch vorgestellt werden. Der Auftragsgeber war der Verein für das Deutschtum im Ausland E.V. "Unsere Feldgrauen" und die Karten liefen unter Soldatenliederpostkarten. Zudem schuf Paul Hey fast für jedes deutsche Volkslied ein Bild. Natürlich wirken diese Bilder heute nostalgisch, aber trotzdem rufen sie in einem ein Gefühl von Heimweh und Sehnsucht wach, von einer Welt, die so nicht mehr existiert.



Still ruht der See - die Vögel schlafen - ein Flüstern nur  - du hörst es kaum.

Vom Eise befreit sind Strom und Bäche
Durch des Frühlings holden, belebenden Blick
Im Tale grünet Hoffnungsglück (Goethe)

Was nützet mir ein schöner Garten - wenn andre drin spazieren gehn - Und pflücken mir die Röslein ab, woran ich meine Freude hab

Der Mond ist aufgegangen
die gold'nen Sternlein prangen
am Himmel hell und klar

Wer hält im deutschen Osten vor unsrer Türe Wacht...

Mädle ruck' ruck' ruck' an meine grüne Seite
I hab' di gar so gern
I kann di leide

Die Lore am Tore

Bin ein fahrender Gesell
Kenne keine Sorgen
Labt' mich heut' ein Felsenquell
labt' mich Rheinwein morgen


Wenn die Soldaten durch  die Stadt marschieren
Öffnen die Mädchen Fenster und die Türen


Dort wo der alte Rhein mit seinen Wellen so mancher Burg
bemooste Trümmer grüsst - bei dir du Vater Rhein an Deinen Ufern möcht' ich sein

Da drunten in der Mühle sass ich in süsser Ruh'
Und sah dem Räderspiele und sah den Wassern zu.

Jetzt geh I ans Brünnele...


Kein Feuer, keine Kohle kann brennenso heiss
Als heimliche Lieb,e von der Niemand nichts weiss.

O Täler weit, o Höhen...

In der Heimat - in der Heimat - da gibt's ein Wiedersehen

Ich bin vom Berg der Hirtenknab

Wohlauf die Luft geht frisch und rein...

Schwer herein schwankt der Wagen kornbeladen bunt von Farben auf den Garben liegt der Kranz -
und das junge Volk der Schnitter fliegt zum Tanz.

Mein Schatz ist a Reiter - a Reiter muss sein.
Das Ross ist des Königs - der Reiter ist mein.

Am Brunnen vor dem Tore, da steht ein Lindenbaum.


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"The Silver Thistle Fairy" - new watercolor from Pierangelo Boog

September 21, 2016, 9:00 pm
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Jack London:: The Cruise of the Dazzler (Joe unter den Piraten) illustrated by Zdenek Burian

September 24, 2016, 9:00 pm
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Bemerkung: Am 15. Februar 2014 haben wir bereits Bilder von Zdenek Burian zu Jack Londons Erzählung The Cruise of the Dazzler vorgestellt, aber Burian schuf eine Serie von Bildern für eine Heftfassung, die wir hiermit zeigen. Zudem unterscheidet sich diese wesentlich vom fast fotografischen Stil der früher gezeigten Illustrationen.

Die amerikanische Originalausgabe von  Jack Londons The Cruise of the Dazzler erschien 1902. Die deutsche Fassung unter dem Titel Joe unter den Piraten kam 1930 erstmals heraus. Die Übersetzung besorgte Erwin Magnus.
Die tschechische Ausgabe mit den Illustrationen von Zdenek Burian erschien als Fortsetzung in den Heften 1-12 von Vpřed unter dem Titel Chlapec na moři (Junge auf See) in den Jahren 1949-1950.





They ran across the shining sand, the Pacific thundering its long surge at heir backs, and when they gained the roadway leaped upon bicycles and dived at faster pace into the green avenues of the park. There were three of them, three boys, in as many bright-colored sweaters,...
 Laut dröhnte die Brandung des Pazifiks hinter ihnen, als sie über den schimmernden Sand liefen. Oben auf der Uferstrasse sprangen sie auf ihre Fahrräder, und in schneller Fahrt tauchten sie in die grünen Alleen des Parks. Sie waren zu dritt - drei Jungen in leuchtenden Pullovern-...

He felt quite studious as he ran over the back pages, till he chanced to raise his eyes above the top of the book and saw on a chair a baseball maskand a catcher's glove.
Er kam sich ausserordentlich wissensdurstig vor, als er die vorhergehenden Seiten durchflog - bis er zufällig seine Augen über die obere Kante des Buches erhob  und auf einem Stuhl eine Baseballmaske und einen Fanghandschuh erblickte.

There was also an old sailorman who profited by this recreation of the Hill-dwellers; for he was learned in sails and air-currents, and being deft of hand and cunning, he fashioned the best-flying kites that could be obtained. He lived in a rattletrap shanty close to the water,...
 Er verstand sich auf Segel und Luftströmungen, und da er ein gewitzter Kopf und geschickt mit den Händen war, verfertigte er die bestfliegenden Drachen, die man überhaupt bekommen konnte. Er wohnte in einer Rattenfalle von Bude nahe beim Wasser....
The red-haired boy detached himself from the group, and stepped before them, blocking their path. They essayed to go around him, but he stretched out his arm.
Der rorhaarige Junge  trennte sich von der Gruppe und vertrat den Freunden den Weg. Sie versuchten, um ihn herumzugehen, aber mit ausgestreckten Arm hielt er sie an.


 Timing his blow with Simpson's attack, he delivered it just as Simpson was ducking forward to fall. Simpson fell, but he fell over on one side, whither he had been driven by the impact of Joe's fist upon his head. He rolled over and got half-way to his feet, where he remained, crying and gasping.
Er berechnete seinen Schlag so, dass er unmittelbar nach Simpsons Angriff lossauste und Simpson also traf, als er sich gerade ducken und fallen lassen wollte. Simpson fiel hin, aber unter dem Anprall von Joes Faust, die ihn am Kopf traf, kippte er zu einer Seite hinüber. Er überschlug sich und kam halbwegs wieder auf die Beine, verharrte aber hulend und nach Luft schnappend in dieser Stellung.

...and the boys were first over the fence andplunging wildly through a maze of back yards. 
 ...und stürzten sich bedenkenlos in ein Labyrinth von Hinterhöfen.

 As he crossed the wide hall, walking softly toward the stairs, his father came out of the library. The surprise was mutual, and each halted aghast.
Als er mit leisen Schritten quer durch die grosse Diele auf die Treppe zuschlich, kam sein Vater aus der Bibliothek. Die Überraschung war gegenseitig.

 Tender as she always was, he noticed that she kissed him with unusual tenderness as he started out with his books swinging at the end of a strap;...
Zärtlich war sie immer, und doch bemerkte er,  dass sie ihn heute mit noch grösserer Zärtlichkeit küsste, als er sich, seine Bücher an einem Lederriemen hin und her schwingend, auf den Weg machte.

This he left lying on his desk where it could easily be seen. He tucked the bundle under his arm, and, with a last farewell look at the room, stole out.
Den Zettel liess er so auf dem Pult liegen, dass man ihn leicht finden konnte. Er klemmte sich das Bündel unter den Arm, und nach einem letzte Blick des Abschieds auf sein Zimmer stahl er sich hinaus.

"Come! Queeck!" he shouted to the boy who owned the bundle and who
now hesitated on the dock. "Komm schnähl!" rief er dem Jungen zu, dem das Bündel gehörte und  der nun zögernd auf dem Pier stand.

But suddenly a man sprang out of the gloom, flashing adark lantern full upon him. Blinded by the light, he staggered back.
Da sprang plötzlich ein Mann aus dem Dunkeln hervor und richtete den Lichtkegel einr Laterne voll auf ihn.


French Pete, in the cabin, bewailed their bad luck in variouslanguages, and sought consolation in the wine-bottle.
In der Kajüte beklagte Franzosen-Pete laut und in mehreren Sprachen ihr verfluchtes Pech und suchte Trost in der Weinflasche.

The sky was clear, and the air had the snap andvigor of early morning about it. 
Der Himmel war klar, und die Luft hatte die lebhafte Frische des Morgens.

"Come on; let 's take a swim,"...und Joe sprang ihm nach...


"I want to come ashore! Important!" Joe shouted out to him.
The man in uniform shook his head.
"Ich will an Land!" rief Joe ihm zu. "Es ist sehr wichtig!" Der Mann in Uniform schüttelte den Kopf.



"Ah! you steal ze skiff, eh?" French Pete howled at him...
"Ah! Klauen die Boot, nickt warr?" brüllte der Franzosen-Pete zu Joe hinüber.
(Heft 12 brachte noch einmal ein Umschlagbild von Burian zu der Erzählung.)




The afternoon sea-breeze had sprung up and was now rioting in from the Pacific.
Die Nachmittagsbrise frischte auf und tobte nun vom Pazifik heran.

Joe sat and marveled that the Frenchman should know where he was going.
Joe sass da und staunte nicht wenig, dass der Franzose ganz offenbar wusste, wo sie waren und wohin sie fuhren


When to leeward, the splendid craft rounded to the wind, rolling once till her brown bottom showed to the centerboard and they thought she was over, then righting and dashing ahead again like a thing possessed.
In Lee angekommen, wendete das herrliche Schiff durch den Wund, rollte dabei einmal so stark, dass sein brauner Rumpf bis zum Mittelschwert zu sehen war...es richtete sich jedoch wieder auf und schoss wie besessen weiter.

Then he poured out wine all around, and, standing in the darkness of the  little cabin, they pledged success to the expedition.
  ...in der dunklen Kajüte schenkte er dann allen Wein ein und sie tranken auf das Gelingen des Unternehmens.


They were very slow and careful to avoid noise in getting into the boats, French Pete pausing long enough to warn the boys to remain quietly aboard and not try any tricks.
Sehr langsam und sehr vorsichtig, um ja keinen Lärm zu machen, stiegen sie in die Boote, und Franzosen-Pete blieb noch einmal stehen und schärfte den Jungen ein, sich mucksmäuschenstill zu verhalten...

A huge forty-footer reared a foam-crested head far above them, stealing their wind for the moment and threatening to crush the tiny craft like an egg-shell. Joe held his breath. It was the supreme moment.
Eine gewaltige, wohl vierzig Fuss hohe Welle hob ihren schaumgekrönten Kopf hoch über das Boot. Für einen Augenblick stahl sie ihnen den Wind und drohte das winzige Schiffchen wie eine Eierschale zu zerquetschen.


The Reindeer dashed by their stern, heeling over till the cabin windows were buried, and so close that it appeared she must run them down. But a freak of the waters lurched the two crafts apart.

Die 'Rentier' wischte an ihrem Heck vorbei. So schwer holte sie über, dass ihre Kajütenfenster eintauchten, und sie kam so dicht heran, dass es aussah, als müsste sie die 'Blender' rammen.

At last day broke, and they looked about. Wind and sea had dropped considerably, and there was no question as to the safety of the Dazzler
Endlich wurde es Morgen. Sie blickten sich um. Wind und See waren beträchtlich ruhiger geworden.

resting a hand affectionately on his boy's
shoulder,--"there are certain things in this world which are of still greater
importance than gold, or papers which represent what gold may buy.
...und legte seinem Sohn wohlwollend die Hand auf die Schulter.




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Hermann Vogel-Album I, erster Teil

September 27, 2016, 9:00 pm
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Wir haben hier schon verschieden Werke von Hermann Vogel (*16.Okt.1854 in Plauen, +22.Feb.1921 in Krebes), dem deutschen Illustrator und Maler, vorgestellt. In lockerer Folge werden wir seine Albumblätter aus Album I und II zeigen.
Das Hermann Vogel-Album (Band 1) und ist im Jahr 1898 in München im Verlag Braun und Schneider erschienen.



Ausschnitt  des Deckelbildes
(Die Grösse der Vogel-Alben übersteigt leider die Fläche meines Scanners)




























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The Canterbury Tales of Geoffrey Chaucer illustrated by W. Russell Flint

September 30, 2016, 9:00 pm
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The Canterbury Tales

illustrated by W. Russell Flint


"The Medici Society printed colored reproductions of paintings and also published illustrated books. This edition of the Tales appeared under the Society's Ricciardi Press imprint, in three volumes ... The text was taken from W.W. Skeat's edition, and the illustrations were by William Russell Flint (1880-1969), famous for his watercolors and in particular for his treatment of the female form. Flint provided thirty-six plates for this handsome printing... These illustrations show the appeal of stories about medieval women--an appeal which should probably be set in the context of such artistic movements as the Pre-Raphaelites, the Arts and Crafts movement, Aestheticism, and Art Nouveau..." (Echard, Printing the Middle Ages).



 
Frontispiece

Prologue
“Ne how the goddes ronnen up and doun,
Disherited of hir habitacioun,
In which they woneden in reste and pees,
Nymphes, Faunes, and Amadrides”

Knight's Tale (Die Erzählung des Ritters)

Man of Law’s Tale


Knight’s Tal

Knight’s Tale


“And how asseged was Ipolita,
The faire hardy quene of Scithia”

Man of Law’s Tale


Knight’s Ta

 

“He caste his eye upon Emelya,
And there-with-al he bleynte, and cryde ‘a!’
As though he stongen were un-to the herte”


“And on hir bare knees adoun they falle,
And wolde have kist his feet ther-as he stood,
Til at the laste aslaked was his mood”



“Amiddes of the temple sat meschaunce,
With disconfort and sory contenaunce”

Miller's Tale (Die Erzählung des Müllers)

“Jalous he was, and heeled hir narwe in cage,
For she was wilde and yong, and he was old”

Man of Law's Tale  (Die Erzählung des Rechtsgelehrten)

Man of Law’s Tale


“To shippe is brough this woful faire mayde
Solempnely, with every circumstance”

“The constable of the castel doun is fare
To seen this wrak, and al the ship he soghte,
And fond this wery womman ful of care”

“… And on this book he swoor anoon
She gilty was, and in the mene whyles
A hand him smoot upon the nekke-boon”

Prioresses Tale (Die Erzählung der Priorin)



“This child with pitous lamentacioun
Up-taken was, singing his song alway;
And with honour of greet processioun
They carien him un-to the nexte abbay”


Tale of Melibee (Die Erzählung von Melibeus)



“Judith, by hir good conseil, delivered the citee of Bethulie,
in which she dwelled, out of the handes of Olofernus”
 
Volume 2
Monk's Tale (Die Erzählung des Mönchs)

"For certein, whan that fortune list to flee,
Ther may no man the cours of hir witholde” 

“Allas, fortune!  she that whylom was
Dredful to kinges and to emperoures,
Now gaureth al the peple on hir, allas!”

Pardoners Tale (Die Erzählung des Ablasskrämers)

“In Flaundres whylom was a companye
Of yonge folk, that haunteden folye”


Wyf (Wife) of Bathes Prologue

“I swoor that al my walkinge out by nighte
Was for t’espye wenches that he dighte”

"That Jankin clerk, and my gossib dame Alis, And I my-self, in-to the feldes wente."

Wife of Bath's Tale (Die Erzählung des Weibes von Bath)

“…The knight saugh verraily al this,
That she so fair was, and so yong ther-to"

Clerk's Tale (Die Erzählung des Klerk)

Frontispiece

“Grisilde of this, god woot, ful innocent,
That for hir shapen was al this array,
To fecchen water at a welle is went”

“A lusty playne, habundant of vitaille,
Where many a tour and toun thou mayst biholde”

“Remember yow, myn owene lord so dere,
I was your wyf, thogh I unworthy were”

 “But with glad chere to the yate is went,
With other folk, to grete the markisesse”


Mercheant's Tale (Die Erzählung des Kaufmanns)


“Night with his mantel, that is derk and rude,
Gan oversprede the hemisperie aboute;
For which departed is this lusty route
Fro Januarie, with thank on every syde”

“Now lat us turne agayn to Januarie,
That in the gardin with his faire May
Singeth, ful merier than the papejay,
‘Yow love I best, and shal, and other noon’ “

Volume 3

Squire's Tale (Die Erzählung des Junkers)

“And to the tree she gooth ful hastily,
And on this faucon loketh pitously,
And heeld hir lappe abrood”

Franklin's Tale

“But whan she saugh the grisly rokkes blake,
For verray fere so wolde hir herte quake,
That on hir feet she mighte hir noght sustene”

“Daunced a quuyer biforen Dorigen,
That fressher was and jolyer of array,
As to my doom, than is the monte of May”


“And after this, he dide him swich plesaunce,
That he him shewed his lady on a daunce”

Second Nun's Tale (Die Erzählung der zweiten Nonne)

"Thee mene I, mayde and martir, seint Cecilie!”

“And she gan kisse his brest, that herde this,
And was ful glad he coude trouthe espye”

“Almache answerde, ‘chees oon of thise two,
Do sacrifyce, or Cristendom reneye,
That thou mowe now escapen by that weye’ “

“And he weex wroth, and bad men sholde hir lede
Hom til hir hous, ‘and in hir hous,’ quod he,
‘Brenne hir right in a bath of flambes rede’ “

Manciple's Tale

“His bowe he bente, and sette ther-inne a flo,
And in his irfe his wyf thanne hath he slayn”

Parson's Tale (Die Erzählung des Pfarrers)

Frontispiece of the third volume
“Thise almesses shaltow doon of thyne owene propre thinges,
and hastily, and prively if thou mayst”

“And for-as-muche as a man may acquiten him-self biforn
god by penitence in this world, and nat by tresor, therfore
sholde he preye to god to yeve him respyt a whyle, to bi-
wepe and biwaillen his trespas”

“Certes, for fals witnessing was Susanna in ful gret sorwe
and peyne”








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Paul Hey: Künstleransichtskarten 2.Teil

October 3, 2016, 9:00 pm
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 Es blicken drei freundliche Sterne in's Dunkel des Lebens hinein.
Die Sterne, sie funkeln so traulich, sie heissen: Lied, Lieb und Wein.

 Abend wird es wieder, überWald und Feld säuselt Freiden nieder und es ruht die Welt.

 Ach wie ist's möglich dann, dass ich dich lassen kann.
Hab' dich von Herzen lieb, das glaube mir.

 Aennchen von Tharau ist die mir gefällt.

 Als der Grossvater die Grossmutter nahm.

 An der Weichsel gegenOsten - da stand ein Soldat auf Posten -Sieh' da kam ein schönes Mädchen, 
brachte Blumen aus dem Städtchen.

 Auf der Fahrt

 Aus der Jugendzeit klingt ein Lied mir immerdar
O wie liegt so weit, was mein einst war.

 Bekränzt mit Laub den lieben, vollen Becher und trinkt ihn fröhlich leer.

 Bunt sind schon die Wälder, gelb die Stoppelfelder und der Herbst beginnt.

 Das Leben bringt gross Freud,
es wissen's alle Leut.

 Die Artillerie ist unverdrossen bereit,...

 Die Vöglein im Wald,diesangen so wunderschön!

Dragoner sind stets heiter - sie haben leichtes Blut -

 Drum Mädchen weine nicht - sei nicht so traurig
Mach' deinem Musketier das Herz nicht schwer.

 Drunten im Unterrland, da ist's halt fein

 Es blies ein Jäger

 Es braust ein Ruf wie Donnerhall

 Es will noch einmal blühen der Wald...

 Gänseliesel

Haltet aus!
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Heinrich Lefler: KLING, KLANG, GLORIA, Deutsche Volks- und Kinderliederr

October 6, 2016, 9:00 pm
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Heinrich Lefler (* 7. November 1863 in Wien; † 17. März 1919 ebenda) war ein österreichischer Maler, Graphiker und Bühnenbildner. Er wurde als Sohn von Franz Lefler, welcher ebenfalls Künstler war, in Wien geboren, studierte von 1880 bis 1884 an der Wiener Akademie der bildenden Künste bei Christian Griepenkerl, ab 1884 an der Akademie der Bildenden Künste in München bei Nikolaus Gysis und Wilhelm von Diez. 1891 wurde er Mitglied der Gesellschaft bildender Künstler Österreichs, Künstlerhaus. 1900 war er ein Gründungsmitglied des Hagenbundes. Zusammen mit seinem Schwager Joseph Urban gehört Lefler zu den wichtigsten Künstlern des europäischen Jugendstils. Beide Künstler arbeiteten oft zusammen. Gemeinsam zeichnen sie verantwortlich für die Ausstattung des Wiener Rathauskellers und für Entwurf und Ausstattung des Schlosses des Grafen Esterhazy. Lefler hat ein Ehrengrab am Wiener Zentralfriedhof und im Jahr 1932 wurde in Wien-Donaustadt die Heinrich-Lefler-Gasse nach ihm benannt. WIKIPEDIA.





Heinrich Lefler (7 November 1863, Vienna– 17 March 1919, Vienna) was an Austrian painter, graphic artist and stage designer. His father was the painter, Franz Lefler.
From 1880 to 1884, he studied at the Academy of Fine Arts Vienna under Christian Griepenkerl and, from 1884, at the Academy of Fine Arts Munich under Nikolaus Gysis and Wilhelm von Diez. In 1891, he became a member of the Society of Austrian Artists and, in 1900, was a founding member of the Hagenbund. From 1900 to 1903, he was an assistant to Anton Brioschi, the head designer at the Vienna State Opera, following which he became a professor at the Academy until 1910. While at the Vienna Opera, he designed a set for the Metropolitan Opera and shipped the pieces to New York.

Besides the time spent in his formal occupations, he spent a great deal of time in Weißenbach an der Triesting with his father and his brother-in-law, Joseph Urban, a fellow scenic designer, where they painted murals on villas and hotels, designed invitation cards for summer festivals and, with librettist Camillo Walzel, staged theatrical productions for children.
 


Die farbigen Bilder wurden von Lefler geschaffen, während die dekorativen Rahmen um die Lieder von Urban gezeichnet wurden. Wir zeigen einige der Rahmen, jedoch wurden die gleichen Dekorationen oft für verschiedene Lieder verwendet.

































Endpapers




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L'Odyssée Illustrations de Antoine Calbet, 1. Teil

October 9, 2016, 9:00 pm
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Antoine Calbet (geboren am 16. August 1860 in Engayrac, Département Lot-et-Garonne; † gestorben 1944 in Paris) war ein französischer Maler.
Nach erstem künstlerischen Unterricht in Montpellier (Département Hérault) kam Calbet nach Paris. Er wurde an der École des Beaux-Arts (EBA) u.a. Schüler von Alexandre Cabanel und Édouard-Antoine Marsal. Als Mitglied der Société des Artistes Français konnte er 1880 auf einer Ausstellung erfolgreich debütieren.
Calbets Œuvre umfasst Aquarelle, Lithografien und Ölgemälde. Daneben entstanden mit den Jahren auch viele Illustrationen von Büchern. 1907 betraute man ihn mit der Ausschmückung des Stadttheaters von Agen (Dépt. Lot-et-Garonne).
Schon als Schüler an der EBA fand Calbet zu seinem Stil. Er war sehr produktiv und seine erfolgreichen Teilnahmen an den Ausstellungen des Salon de Paris förderten seine Popularität. Daher wurde sein künstlerisches Schaffen schon bald auch zum finanziellen Erfolg. WIKIPEDIA



A pupil of Alexandre Cabanel and Emile-François Michel, Antoine Calbet (1860 - 1944) also studied with the genre painter Edouard Antoine Marsal. He made his public exhibition debut at the Salon de la Société des Artistes Français in 1880, and continued to take part in the Paris Salons until 1940. A gifted watercolourist as well as a portrait and genre painter, Calbet had a particular penchant for studies of languid female nudes. He also worked as a decorative painter, counting among his public commissions the decoration of several theatres, as well as the buffet restaurant in the Gare de Lyon in Paris and the restaurant La Grande Taverne in Dijon, for which he painted a Scène de Brasserie. 














Chant Premier
ITHAQUE






Chant II
TÉLÉMAQUE



Chant III
PYLOS






Chant IV
LACÉDÉMONE




 Chant V
CALYPSO




Chant VI
Nausicaa





Chant VII
ALCINOUS





Chant VIII
JEUX




Chant IX
LE CYCLOPE

 



 Chant X
CIRCÉ





Chant XI
ULYSSE AUX ENFERS







Wir haben eingangs erwähnt, dass Calbet finanziellen Erfolge hatte. Ich vermute, diese dürften nicht auf die Buchillustrationen zurückzuführen sein, sondern eher auf seine erotischen Gemälde. Zum Abschluss des erstenTeils möchten wir diese Gemälde dem Besucher des Blogs nicht vorenthalten.













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L'Odyssée Illustrations de Antoine Calbet, 2. Teil

October 12, 2016, 9:00 pm
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Autoportrait Antoine Calbet


Deux élégantes cuillant des fleurs



Nu dans un jardin des roses


Elégante au chapeau



L'Odyssée (2.Teil)



Chant XIII
RETOUR A ITHAQUE
 








Chant XIV
EUMÉE




Chant XV
RETOUR DE TÉLÉMAQUE




Chant XVI
ULYSSE ET TÉLÉMAQUE




Chant XVII
LES PRÉTENDANTS




Chant XVIII
PÉNÉLOPE




Chant XIX
EURYCLÉE




Chant XX
FUNESTES PRÉSAGES




Chant XXI
L'ARC D'ULYSSE






Chant XXII
LE MASSACRE







Chant XXIII
ULYSSE ET PÉNÉLOPE





Chant XXIV
LAERTE




***






Endpapers







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Claus Bergen: Bilder zu Karl Mays Im Lande des Mahdi, 1. Band

October 15, 2016, 9:00 pm
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Claus Bergen (1885 - 1964) illustrierte mehrere der Bände von Karl Mays Illustrierte Reiseerzählungen, erschienen bei Friedrich Ernst Fehsenfeld, 1896, Freiburg i.Br. Der Band XIV, Im Lande des Mahdi I, wurde 1900 publiziert.


 


...Auf dm Kopfe sass ein Turban von einer solchen Breite, wie ich sie selbst bei den Kurden...nicht gesehen hatte.
"Dieser Mann ist Selim, mein Haushofmeister," sagte der Türke, indem er den langen, gespensterähnlichen Kerl zurück- und mich demselben nachschob.


Dem Bierhause gegenüber steht ein kleines, vielleicht achtjähriges Negermädchen, welches ein Körbchen an einer Schnur um den Hals hängen hat und zuweilen in verzagtem Ton ruft: "Feigen, Feigen, süsser als meine Augen!"

Er hatte jetzt die Überzeugung gewonnen, dass ich im festen Schlafe liege und kam herein, indem er erst den Kopf, die Schulter, dann den Leib unter der Matte vorschob und endlich die Beine nachzog. In der Rechten hielt er das Messer.

"Was isr das? Was fällt dir ein?" fragte der Reis, welcher mir mit den beiden andern gefolgt war. "Frag lieber, was diesem dort einfällt!" antwortete ich, indem ich nach dem Landebrette zeigte, auf welchem soeben eine Gestalt schnell nach dem Ufer huschte.

Sie hatten so stark gezogen, dass er sich einige Male überkugelte und dann stöhnend liegen blieb.

Er schritt voran und wir folgten ihm. Wir gingen durch das nicht grosse Dorf und gelangten bald an den Fuss der steilen Höhe, jenseits welcher sich die Wüste bis zum roten Meer erstreckt.Dort lag ein Begräbnisplatz mit dem kuppelförmigen Grabmale eines Fakirs....der Alte erhob sich, trat uns langsam näher, warf einen forschenden Blick auf uns....

Als ich ihn erreicht hatte und dann neben ihm stand, leuchtete ich mit der Fackel umher. Wir befanden uns in einer kleinen Kammer...


"Gieb jetzt den Strick hinab; wir wollen unsern Ben Nil heraufziehen!"

Frontispiz
...und brachten ein junges Mädchen aus demselben; sie führten es vor den Anführer und setzten sich dann wieder nieder.

Wohl über eine Stunde war ich gegangen, als ich von fern her ganz eigentümliche, seltsame Töne vernahm. Es war, als ob der Wind durch eine Aeolsharfe strich. Das Gekling kam näher und wurde deutlicher. Ich unterschied weibliche Stimmen und den Klang von Saiten. Nun erscjein ein Kamelreiter, dessen Lanzenspitzte im Strahle des Vollmondes funkelte...

Wir knieten nieder, um den Sand wegzuräumen; er war nicht fest, und acht kräftige Arme förderten die Arbeit. Bei drei Fuss Tiefe wirde er feucht, bei vier Fuss nass, dann stiessen wir auf eiun Leder, welches aus einigen zusammengenähten Gazellenhäuten bestand, und als wir dasselbe entfernt hatten, sahen wir noch eine Elle tiefer das klare Wasser...

Ich ging zum Brunnen. Da sah an dem Fusse der linken Anhöhe einen Sandhaufen, wlcher vorher nicht dagewesen war wohl vier Ellen lang, zwei brei und eine hoch, fast wie ein Grab. Der Sand war locker, ich begann, ihn aufzuwühlen. Dabei bemerkte ich unweit von mir eine rotgefärbte Stelle....Ein nackter Fuss kam zum Vorschein und dann nich einer....Ich fasste also beide Füsse, zog und zog und riss endlich den ganzen Körper mit einem gewaltsamen Rucke aus dem Sande.


So gelangte ich unbemerkt auf der untersten Felsenstufe an, welche, wie bereits bemerkt, ungefähr doppelte Manneshöhe hatte. Dort legte ich mich nieder und schob mich soweit vor, dass mein Gesicht gleich mit der Kante war. Ich sah vorsichtig hinab. ...und die drei Männer knieten an der Erde, um den Brunnen auszugraben.

Er setzte sich, als das Loch leer geworden war, neben dasselbe auf die Erde, stemmte den Ellbogen auf das Gestein und legte den Kopf in die Hand. In diser Stellung sah er dem Treiben der andern zu.

Da kam sie auf mich zu, reichte mir die Hand, sah mich mit einem grossen, ernsten Blicke an und sagte: "Also das bist du; so siehst du aus, Effendi!...


Was ich da erblickte, machte mir beinahe das Blut stocken. Sämtliche Sklavenjäger, nur einen einzigen ausgenommen, lagen am Felsen hin in einer langen Reihe tot am Boden, und diesen Leichen gegenüber stand noch jetzt die Reihe der Asaker, welche die Exekution vollzogen hatten.






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Heinrich Zille: Zwanglose Geschichten und Bilder

October 18, 2016, 9:00 pm
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ES TUT WEH, WENN MAN DEN ERNST ALS WITZ VERKAUFEN MUSS.
Heinrich Zille

Heinrich Rudolf Zille (* 10. Januar 1858 in Radeburg bei Dresden; † 9. August 1929 in Berlin) war ein deutscher Grafiker, Maler und Fotograf. In seiner Kunst bevorzugte der „Pinselheinrich“ genannte Zille Themen aus dem Berliner Volksleben, das er ebenso lokalpatriotisch wie sozialkritisch darstellte.

Zille war von den Stichen William Hogarths beeindruckt, die er in Pfennigmagazinen entdeckt hatte. Auf der Schule begann er Zeichenunterricht zu nehmen; für die Kosten musste er selbst aufkommen.Nach dem Willen seines Vaters sollte Zille ursprünglich Metzger werden, er konnte jedoch kein Blutsehen, also ging er bei dem Steinzeichner Fritz Hecht an der Alten Jakobstraße in die Lehre.
Um die Wende zum 20. Jahrhundert begann Heinrich Zille immer bewusster, Szenen aus der proletarischen Unterschicht für sich als Sujet zu entdecken. Zille fand sein„Milljöh“ in den Hinterhöfen der Mietskasernen, Seitengassen und Kaschemmen der Arbeiterviertel. 1907 wurde Zille deswegen von der Photographischen Gesellschaft entlassen. Den Fünfzigjährigen traf dies hart: Er war verbittert, empört und zutiefst bestürzt. Freunde von ihm, die Künstler waren, insbesondere Paul Klimsch, aber auch Max Liebermann, sahen dessen Entlassung gelassen bis optimistisch, glaubten sie doch an das künstlerische Potential Zilles. Es sollte eine Zeit dauern, bis Zille begriff, dass er sich hier an der Schwelle zu einem völlig neuen Lebensabschnitt befand: weg vom jahrzehntelangen Werkstattleben hin zum wahren Leben draußen vor der Haustür. Er erinnerte sich an die Worte seines ehemaligen Professors: „Gehen Sie lieber auf die Straße hinaus…“. (aus Wikipedia)
 

 



Zille was an illustrator and photographer noted for celebrating common people at a time when their lot was a difficult one, particularly in his portrayals of life in the Berllin Mietskasernen, or tenement barracks, roughshod buildings crammed with desperate peasants who had fled a life of toil and poverty in the farmlands and fallen into deeper poverty in the industrialized city.
On moving to Berlin, Zille became familiar with some of the noted artists of the time, including Max Beckmann, Käthe Kollwitz, August Gaul and Max Liebermann. Zille became Liebermann’s protege and created a reputation for witty but incisive social commentary in the form of cartoon-like illustrations about the life of the common and poor in turn of the century Berlin. He became known as “Pinselheinrich”, or “Heinrich the Brush”. He frequented the bars and cellars of the seedier quarters of the city and became a familair figure there, often called “Papa Zille”, taking in that life in all of its rough character and honesty. He would later say “No one would believe all the things I’ve seen.”
He also documented the Berlin he knew as a photographer. Less well know are his forays into erotic drawing.
































Zur Abrundung noch einige farbige Bilder von Zille aus dem Berliner Milljöh








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