ANTICIPATION OF THE OLYMPICS 40 years ago

The Olympics would never be the same after Munich in 1972.

In 1973 I made my first trip to Europe. Landing in Frankfurt I remember being stunned to see a plane surrounded by soldiers with guns and tanks. It was an EL AL plane. Welcome to the nightmare.

When I was in Munich, walking around in the park next to the indoor stadium, it seemed so odd to be in the place I’d watched on television less than a year before. Life went on as if all of it had just been a TV drama. I remember being upset that the fellow at the food cart only sold warm Cokes. That was my moment of sanity before I went back to thinking about the nightmare that had played out.

I look at the siege mentality at the London Olympics and it feels hopeless. Instead of things getting better through the decades they’ve only gotten worse. The insanity has become the norm.

I don’t watch the Olympics anymore. The last games I watched were the ones in Barcelona in 1992. I haven’t missed them. I don’t like the way they’re sold, the faux drama in the coverage, and the “us against them” mentality with the medal counts.

It’s sad to mark moments in our lives with shared tragedies because of television. Only a few years before Munich the world watched as we landed on the moon. Weigh the good with the bad moments shared by all of us and I’m guessing the bad will have more weight. More of us will remember the shared horror of what people do to each other.

Charles A. MacLellan

Sometimes I just don't find anything. Put a name into a search and nothing much shows up. So okay, this is going to save me time. I'll just post this image to share and move on with what's left of my day and the real work I need to be doing.

Click on image to see it larger.

The cover is self-explanatory. Delineator, February 1915. I thought it appropriate for all the kids who stayed home today because of a snow day. It also reminds me of the scene in A Christmas Story when Ralphie beats up the neighborhood bully.

I'm not finding biographical information about the artist, Charles Archibald MacLellan, other than he was born in 1885 in Trenton, Ontario, Canada. He lived in Delaware and was known for doing illustrations of children. His teacher was Howard Pyle. He exhibited at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, and was apparently a student at the Brandywine School and the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. He is known for his cover illustrations for the Saturday Evening Post and he worked in oil paints. That's it folks. No death notice, but I'm figuring we can gather from his date of birth he's no longer here. If I ever find anything else I'll update this post.

To see examples of his Post covers click here and here.

That's it for today's Tattered and lost Ephemera break.

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UPDATE: On November 30, 2010 I received the following biographical information about Charles A. MacLellan from his niece:

Uncle Charlie lived in a studio apartment in Wilmington, DE for many years. I believe it is now headquarters for some sort of an artists' group. Perhaps the address is 1305 Franklin Street. About 15 years ago I sent the artists' group a post card (or letter) from Howard Pyle indicating agreement to rent the place to Uncle Charlie.

Uncle Charlie died in October 1961 and a service was held at a local Presbyterian Church. He was cremated and his ashes were scattered by several ladies in the artists' organization.

My two sisters and I were his heirs. My mother, Marjorie MacLellan Dawson, was executor of his will.

He was a very, very funny man - very proper and irreverent at the same time.

Thank you! I love finding out more about the man who did this wonderful painting.

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UPDATE: on August 27, 2011 I received the following information in a comment from Ian Schoenherr said...

You can see some c.1911 photos of MacLellan taken in Howard Pyle’s studio in the Olive Rush Papers at the Archives of American Art. 





He appears in photos 17 (on the left), 19 (on the right), and 20 (on the left).

Thank you Ian!

UPDATE: The following biographical information was submitted anonymously to the comments section. Whoever sent it along, thank you.

Charles Archibald MacLellan, known as “Mac”, was born in Canada in 1885. He attended Chicago’s Art Institute School for about two and a half years before accepting a position at an engraving house. 

While in Chicago, MacLellan illustrated several magazine covers, designed stained glass windows, created advertisement posters, and did newspaper sketches for the Chicago Examiner.

In 1909, he relocated to Wilmington, Delaware, where her studied with legendary illustrator Howard Pyle. At that time, MacLellan began painting calendars and established a highly successful illustration career that lasted through the first half of the twentieth century.

MacLellan is best known for his cover paintings for The Saturday Evening Post. Between 1913 and 1936, he painted forty-four covers, making him one of the most prolific Post cover illustrators of his day. MacLellan specialized in painting women, and nearly all of his cover illustrations feature a woman as the central, and often only, subject.

By the late 1930s he turned to portrait painting and also spent more time acquiring antique furniture on behalf of the Winterthur Museum in Delaware.
MacLellan taught at the Studio, in Howard Pyle’s old studio in Wilmington, Delaware, from 1943 until his death in 1961.

The EYES have it

In 1873 Butterick Publishing Company began publishing a magazine, The Delineator, to show off it's various clothing patterns. The magazine was published until 1937. It was THE women's magazine of its day. 

During the 1930s many of the covers were done by the illustrator of the cover below, Dynevor Rhys. I've never been able to find out any information about this illustrator, but these covers are very collectible. To see more of the work from the 1930s click here. 

Click on image to see it larger.

He also did illustrations for ads within the magazine as shown below. This one is on the inside cover of this issue of Delineator.

Click on image to see it larger.

I love these illustrations. They're stylized, vivid, and even if the eyes creep you out they draw you in. And they really do feel like the movies of the 1930s when people wished that life could maybe be truly grand even if their reality was something else. Wishes are like ephemera. Gone in a moment, replaced by something else.