BUSY LITTLE RICKSHAW BOY

No doubt about it, the cover art for this sheet music is offensive, as is the title. The fact that we realize this is a good thing. What's strange is that the copyright for this piece is 1950. Now, I don't know if that was when it was first released or simply reissued. I can easily see this being something that was popular in the early part of the 20th century, but then I find a newspaper clipping indicating it was still popular in 1963.


Click on image to see it larger.

Let's not fool ourselves, offensive material is just as prevalent today, but it generally doesn't have the seal of approval by most people. Racism is alive and well on one news network and they would probably defend the art. And if we're talking offensive, nothing can match videos for rap music where women are degraded verbally and visually.

Offensive material that belittles someone to make an idiot feel superior will always be around. It's like whack-a-mole trying to rid ourselves of it. Just when one thing disappears another takes its place. Racism is again raising its ugly head with the blessing of far too many ignorant people.

So why would I post this? It's a reminder and each person who views it brings their own conclusion as to how they feel about it.

Click here to read about the publishing company, Theodore Presser, which is located in King of Prussia, Pennsylvania.

FIDDLEFOOT by Luke Short

Apparently a "fiddlefoot" is a drifter. Learn something everyday, no matter how useless.

AND THE WIND BLOWS FREE by Luke Short

I'm certainly not the only one who gets annoyed when they see women sitting, doing nothing, looking scared when some sort of a fight is taking place. I mean, grab a rock and hit one of them on the head. Hit someone with your whip. Quit playing helpless! Drives me nuts in movies and tv. While the dame is hiding in the corner, my eyes are scouring the room for weapons. Grab the lamp. Find a heavy book. DON'T JUST SIT THERE! DO SOMETHING!

I've never been fond of the "oh poor pitiful helpless me" school of women. I'm guessing the woman in this book might not be someone I'd like.




Click on image to see it larger.

Again, nothing about the cover illustrator.

WAR ON THE CIMARRON by Luke Short

Luke Short was a gunslinger.

Luke Short was a writer.

There were two men named Luke Short. Did the second take the pen name hoping for name recognition?

This edition was published in 1950.




Click on images to see them larger.

As to the illustrator of the cover? No idea.

BABY'S CHRISTMAS Card from Grammy and Granddady

BABY'S CHRISTMAS Card Part Two

BABY'S CHRISTMAS Card in Three Parts

"A Walk in the City" by ROSEMARY and RICHARD DAWSON

I purchased this old worn out children's book a couple of decades ago at a thrift store in Bandon, Oregon. For those familiar with Bandon, the store was just down the street from the cheese factory. The cheese factory is gone thanks to the people at Tillamook Cheese. I like Tillamook cheese, but I don't like what they did to Bandon.

This book was once part of the library at the local school. I like these old school copies because I think about all the little hands it passed through before being tossed aside.

It's a sweet book with lovely illustrations by Rosemary and Richard Dawson. No, not the Hogan's Hero's Dawson, Family Feud Dawson. Sadly, I can't find anything about this wife and husband team? Or were they sister and brother? Cousins? Who knows?




















Click on any image to see it larger.

Published in 1950, I find the review from Kirkus Reviews a bit on the simple minded side:

A group of sprightly verses about the sights and sounds of the city seen through a child's eyes on a day's outing with his mother. Dogs, coal chutes, playgrounds, fruit stores, houses and icemen are visualized in breezy four color illustrations by the authors; heavily accented chatter of the verse acts as a bouncing accompaniment. Bound in strong board with a full page illustration for each verse. Unfortunately limited in appeal to city youngsters, since the verse merely draws attention to experiences already familiar. (Kirkus Reviews)

I know as a child I would have been fascinated by city or country kids. I didn't need to have already experienced something in order to be interested by it. Let's hope reviewers give kids a bit more credit these days.

Learn to Draw with JON GNAGY

If you're of a certain age your first introduction to drawing might have been watching Jon Gnagy on tv. My mother watched it religiously. She also watched Jack LaLane. These two men visited our house on a regular basis. My dad seemed okay with it.

My mother purchased the Jon Gnagy Learn to Draw kit. I still have the book and the chalk. Somewhere I have a few drawings she did.

Jon Gnagy, known to millions as America's television art teacher, was born at Varner's Forge, an outpost settlement near Pretty Prairie Kansas in 1907. The pioneer environment of his first seven years at the Forge and family farm reflect a strong influence in his work as an artist. Son of Hungarian-Swiss Mennonites, Jon early developed inventive skills common to rural craftsmen. At the age of eleven he began drawing and painting without instruction, winning sweepstake prizes at the Kansas State Fair in Hutchinson when he was thirteen years old. Gaining attention each year at the State Fair as the self-taught "blacksmith" of art, his vigorous compositions of the American Scene brought him an offer from Tulsa, Oklahoma. When he was seventeen he accepted the position of art director with an industrial public relations organization in the Oil Capital, where he produced posters for the International Petroleum Exposition. (SOURCE: Jon Gnagy)

The above is from a web site his daughter runs. There you'll find links to the art kits that are still sold under Gnagy's name. You'll also be able to watch full 10 minute broadcast lessons.

And the following is a portion from a piece that appeared in Reminisce Magazine November 22, 1997. To read the complete article click here.

Did You "Learn to Draw" With Jon Gnagy?

Television pioneer convinced a generation of viewers that anyone could be an artist

by Bill Einhorn,

Fairfield, Connecticut

If you watched television during the 1940s, '50s or '60s, you likely recall Jon Gnagy, the engaging art teacher who assured folks that anyone could draw.

"Ball....cube.....cylinder....cone," Jon would say at the beginning of his 15-minute program, Learn to Draw. "By using these four shapes, I can draw any picture I want. And so can you!"

Sincerity and quiet confidence flowed from Jon, reflecting a humble Mennonite upbringing in Pretty Prairie, Kansas. His trim Vandyke beard, smile and plaid shirt were his trademarks.

I produced Jon's TV show from 1950 to '55. Later, through syndication, it was viewed by millions of folks across the U.S. and Canada well into the 1960s. While many remember this selftaught artist's Saturday-morning TV show, they may not recall that he was a television star before Lucille Ball, Milton Berle or Arthur Godfrey. In fact, Jon was the first act on the first commercial television show ever, broadcast May 14,1946. On that day, NBC's Studio H in New York City was filled with excited anticipation. The tiny studio, up until then used for radio, was ablaze with whitehot lights and jammed with technicians. (SOURCE: Allan M. McCollum)

And from an article called Each and Everyone of You by Susan Morgan:

On the first episode, Jon Gnagy, sporting a goatee, wore an artist's smock and beret. He led the viewing audience through his step-by-step method to make a drawing of an old oak tree. His crayon melted under the studio lights, his chalk squeaked, but in seven minutes the lesson and the picture were completed. "You were great! Your show is pure television!" exclaimed the production manager.

Jon Gnagy introduced to American families the idea of being an artist, an idea that was not couched in terms of privilege or preciousness. All of his references were incorporated subtly, informing his teaching method rather than exalting the past. He was sharing some first hand knowledge at a time when television viewing still had a sense of intimacy and concentration. To go along with his television show, Jon Gnagy produced a kit of art supplies and a book of drawing lessons. The writing style is direct, outlining his plan. The chapter titles are terrible puns, the sort of jokes one forgives a favorite uncle for making (While There is Still Life There is Hope, How To Get A Head By Going in Circles). At the end of the book, he wrote "The plan I have outlined in this book will be invaluable to you. It will release the creative drive in you and set you free. . ." That was Jon Gnagy's plan. A lot of people growing up in the fifties watching television got the idea. (SOURCE: Real Life Magazine)

Gnagy took some of the mystery out of art. Yes, it was sort of a draw-by-the-numbers, but it opened a world to people who believed art was something only "artists" did. My mother enjoyed his show and I think it was part of what made me become an artist. Art was something real, not something that hung in museums. And for a quiet shy child it was a world I could visit on my own, create on my own.

I think of Jon Gnagy's show as a bit like Basic Studies the first year in art college. First you learn the basics and then you use that to take flight.

Now, from the book, you can learn to draw a train. Don't give me the old "I can't even draw a straight line" business. That's a crock. Nobody can draw a straight line without a ruler. Oh, someone might be able to do a few inches, but eventually the line will waver.

Click on any image to see it larger.

Published by Arthur Brown & Bro., Inc. ©1960 by Jon Gnagy

Gnagy shows you the possibilities and opens your eyes to seeing the world in shapes which is the first step towards drawing; seeing things differently.

******

Hello homeschoolers. I know you're out there.