Tag: art

  • Edouard Garcia Benito’s Gift to Condé Nast

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    The Painting I Sold Too Soon

    Edouard Garcia Benito - Condé Nast
    Edouard Garcia Benito’s painting for Condé Nast

    I acquired this painting as part of a lot of five works. I admired its vibrant elegance when I saw it, but it didn’t fit my collection. I let it go, and later discovered how significant it truly was.

    It wasn’t just an attractive piece of art; it was a personal gift from the Spanish Art Deco master Edouard Garcia Benito to none other than Condé Nast, the visionary publisher behind Vogue and Vanity Fair.

    The dedication reads:

    “Le monsieur Nast très sophistiqué et penseur” — To Mr. Nast, a very sophisticated and thoughtful man.

    I misread the inscription, thinking it said something closer to Le monsieur naît (born). My impatience with getting an accurate translation meant I missed the key clue. Only when I stumbled on an image of this piece in my photos did I revisit and solve the puzzle — a bittersweet reminder that sometimes it pays to slow down in art research.

    Provenance suggests it passed directly from Benito to Nast, and later through the venerable New York gallery M. Knoedler & Co., long before Knoedler’s controversies. The elegant woman depicted may be Natica Nast, Condé’s daughter, who was often portrayed in fashionable hats.

    The composition is pure Art Deco glamour: a graceful woman in a gown, clasping her clutch under her arm, her face softly abstracted, framed by lush blossoms of red, pink, and yellow. Her red lips draw the eye, balanced by the upright figure of a man in formal evening attire behind her, hands on his hips, exuding confidence. The brushwork is loose yet deliberate, with bold swaths of color — crimson, canary yellow, moss green, deep navy — set against areas of untouched white. It’s signed E. G. Benito in the lower left, along with the inscription to Nast. The mood is equal parts sophistication and flirtation, the hallmark of Benito’s fashion illustration sensibility.

    I rarely look back on pieces I’ve let go. But letting this painting go might nag at me. It wasn’t just a beautiful work but a tangible link between two giants of 20th-century culture.

    If there’s a lesson here, it’s take your time, dig deeper, and never underestimate what a closer look might reveal. And sometimes you might want to add a zero to the price…


    About Edouard Garcia Benito

    Edouard Garcia Benito (1891–1981) was born in Valladolid, Spain, and trained at the School of Fine Arts in Valladolid and San Fernando in Madrid before moving to Paris in 1912. Immersed in the city’s avant-garde, he befriended artists like Modigliani and Dufy and began creating fashion illustrations for elite publications such as La Gazette du Bon Ton.

    His big break came in the early 1920s when couturier Paul Poiret introduced him to Condé Nast. Benito went on to produce nearly 100 covers for Vogue and Vanity Fair, defining the magazines’ Art Deco aesthetic with his bold geometric forms, elongated figures, and sophisticated minimalism. He alternated between painting society portraits and creating witty, stylish illustrations, leaving a lasting imprint on both fashion and fine art.


    About Condé Nast

    Condé Montrose Nast (1873–1942) transformed magazine publishing in the early 20th century. Acquiring Vogue in 1909 and launching Vanity Fair soon after, he targeted the cultural elite with a mix of high fashion, society reportage, and cutting-edge design. Nast had a keen eye for visual talent, employing some of the era’s most important illustrators and photographers, including Benito, George Lepape, and Edward Steichen. His publications became cultural barometers, shaping taste and style for generations.


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  • The Evolution of Madness: Discovering Bragg’s Double Vision

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    Charles Bragg’s Asylum Paintings

    In my home growing up there was a large framed Sutton Galleries poster of Charles Bragg’s The Asylum. It was larger than life, way beyond comprehension for my adolescent mind. It frightened and perplexed me, but I couldn’t help but stare at it, knowing something was going horribly wrong.

    As a distraction from everyday activities, I recently decided to research this piece, only to once again become perplexed. I discovered that books, exhibition brochures, and websites showed two different paintings of the same name. It’s not unheard of for an artist to use the same title when painting copies of their own pieces, but these were similar yet very different scenes.

    I decided to go down the rabbit hole and sure enough, Bragg did in fact paint two Asylums: one oil on paper (16 x 34 inches), and another oil on board (30 x 40 inches)—the piece I grew up mesmerized by.

    These two distinct and compelling versions masterfully depict the artist’s satirical yet disturbing view of American society’s madness. Below is a brief exploration and comparison of these iconic paintings, shedding light on their profound symbolism and thematic evolution.

    Brief Introduction to Charles Bragg

    Charles Bragg (1931–2017) was an American artist renowned for his deeply satirical and often cynical depictions of humanity. Described as the modern-day Hieronymus Bosch, his work is a social commentary and critiques the follies of politics, religion, war, and societal norms. The year 1968 was a period of immense global turmoil—marked by the Vietnam War, political assassinations, and widespread civil unrest. Bragg’s two Asylum paintings from this year serve as powerful allegories for a world he saw as having descended into madness, with the lunatics running the institution. Though they share a title and a theme, these two works offer distinct, complementary visions of this societal asylum.

    1. The Asylum (1968, Oil on Paper, 16″ x 34″)

    Charles Bragg - The Asylum 1968, Oil on Paper, 16" x 34"
    Charles Bragg, The Asylum, 1968, oil on paper, 16 x 34 in. Collection of NSU Art Museum Fort Lauderdale, Gift of D. Robert Silber. Image source.

    Overview

    This horizontally oriented painting offers a chaotic, almost carnivalesque representation of societal breakdown. The palette is vibrant yet unsettling, dominated by surreal colors ranging from muted blues and reds to earthy tones and grayish hues. It possesses a satirical wit that underscores its commentary on madness, war, and institutional corruption.

    Central Imagery

    At the heart is a figure resembling a king or tyrant, absurdly enthroned atop an enormous skull, draped in striped pants, and wielding symbols of mock authority. His absurd attire and comically fierce expression heighten the ridicule of oppressive authority figures. The giant skull symbolizes death underpinning authority, hinting at the destructive nature of unchecked power.

    Key Symbolic Elements

    • Central Throne (Giant Skull): Represents authority built upon death and violence.
    • Tyrannical Figure (King): Satirical embodiment of oppressive, authoritarian madness. His striped pants and self-important posture heighten the mockery.
    • Mechanized madness (Smokestacks): Symbols of man-made destruction, pollution, and societal corruption.
    • Populace and War (Cannon): A massive cannon is aimed not at a foreign enemy, but at a huddled mass of pale, ghoulish figures—the common people, who are the ultimate victims.
    • Blind Obedience (Animal-Human Hybrids): Figures illustrating blind conformity and loss of individual identity.
    • Institutional corruption (Dilapidated Cathedral): Symbolizes the decay of faith and civilization.
    • Detritus (American self-deprecation): Skulls, bones, and grotesque creatures like a star wearing lizard battling an obese counterpart—a critique of Americans.

    Interpretation
    Though unsettling, the painting maintains a darkly comic undertone. It critiques institutional madness, war, hypocrisy, and authoritarian absurdity, using humor and grotesquerie to expose the folly behind power structures and societal collapse.

    Exhibition Catalogue

    • Taylor, Geoffrey. “The Asylum. 1968 oil, 16 x 34″.” The Absurd World of Charles Bragg. New York: H. N. Abrams, 1980, pp. 2-3.
    • Taylor, Geoffrey. “The Asylum. 1968 oil, 16 x 34″.” The Absurd World of Charles Bragg. Rev. ed. New York: H. N. Abrams, 1991, pp. 2-3.
    • Bisbort, Alan. “Asylum, 1968.” Charles Bragg: The Works! A Retrospective. Foreword by Richard B. Stolley. Pomegranate, 1999, pp. 60-61.
    • The Asylum.” NSU Art Museum Fort Lauderdale Collection. NSU Art Museum Fort Lauderdale, https://collection.nsuartmuseum.org/mwebcgi/mweb.exe?request=record;id=19144;type=101. Accessed 27 July 2025.

    2. The Asylum (1968, Oil on Board, 30″ x 40″)

    Charles Bragg The Asylum 1968 Oil on board 30 x 40"
    Charles Bragg, The Asylum, 1968, oil on board, 30 x 40 in. Private Collection

    Overview

    This large magnum opus is far darker, heavier, and psychologically intense. Its vertically oriented format enhances a claustrophobic, oppressive mood. Dominated by deep reds, browns, and shadowy blacks, it suggests a scene unfolding in the deepest corners of the human psyche or a symbolic Hell itself.

    Central Imagery

    A grotesque, infantile figure dressed in extravagant papal attire sits imposingly at the center of the composition, suggesting a perverse blending of childlike innocence and sinister authority. His blank yet unsettling expression evokes the chilling nature of corrupted innocence and blind tyranny. He reigns over a macabre earth littered with bones, skulls, and cracked eggs—symbols of decay, moral rot, and wasted potential.

    Key Symbolic Elements

    • Central Figure (Infantile Pope): Grotesquely obese, robed in red and pink, and surrounded by a golden halo—a parody of divine authority and the cult of personality.
    • Root Throne: The pope appears to be riding on a tree root, suggesting the figure is being supported by or pulled into hell.
    • Volcanic Crater: A rupture in the landscape, perhaps nature’s response to human madness—a fiery womb of destruction.
    • Masked Clergy and Executioners: Represent institutional complicity and moral decay.
    • Banners with Distorted Religious Symbols: Highlight institutional hypocrisy and corrupted spirituality.
    • Graveyard Imagery: Tombstones, crosses, and skulls form the literal and symbolic ground of the painting.
    • Cherubs and Death Figures: Mixes Christian and occult symbols into a fevered vision of apocalypse.

    Interpretation
    This painting abandons the lighter comedic elements seen in the other piece and fully immerses the viewer in a sinister vision. It suggests Bragg’s most intense reflections on madness: institutionalized, oppressive, and all-consuming. If the smaller painting mocks society, this larger masterwork condemns it, creating an intense feeling of unease, confrontation, and indictment.

    Exhibition Catalog

    • “Asylum 30 x 40” Charles Bragg. Exhibition brochure. New York: ACA Galleries, c. 1974-75, p. 5.
    • Taylor, Geoffrey. “The Asylum. 1968 oil, 30 x 40″.” The Absurd World of Charles Bragg. New York: H. N. Abrams, 1980, pp. 86-87.
    • Taylor, Geoffrey. “Madness in Progress (The Asylum).” The Absurd World of Charles Bragg. Rev. ed. New York: H. N. Abrams, 1980, pp. 30.
    • Taylor, Geoffrey. “The Asylum. 1968 oil, 30 x 40″.” The Absurd World of Charles Bragg. Rev. ed. New York: H. N. Abrams, 1991, pp. 86-87.

    Comparative Analysis:

    Attribute“The Asylum” (Oil on Paper)“The Asylum” (Oil on Board)
    Size16″ x 34″ (horizontal)30″ x 40″ (vertical)
    PaletteBright, surreal, satiricalDark, oppressive, apocalyptic
    Central FigureComically authoritarian, absurd, seated on skull throneInfantile pope-like figure, chilling, sinister
    SymbolismWar, absurdity, satirical chaosMoral corruption, death, spiritual collapse
    ToneDarkly humorous critiqueDeep psychological indictment
    Overall ImpactSocial satire, absurdityProfound, disturbing, unsettling

    Bragg’s evolution from mocking satire to apocalyptic vision emphasizes the profound shift from viewing madness as a human folly to recognizing it as an existential threat.

    Together, these two masterpieces from 1968 create a powerful and comprehensive vision of a world that has lost its reason—a societal Asylum depicted with Charles Bragg’s signature wit and brutal honesty. If this is what Bragg was painting in response to the world of 1968, one can only imagine—perhaps dread—what he might paint today.

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  • William Henry Drake: Brought The World To Life And Ended In A Suffocating Death

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    William Henry Drake (1856-1926) was a renowned American artist who captured the majesty and power of animals and landscapes in his paintings. Though born in New York City, Drake considered Cincinnati his home, having moved there at a young age. His artistic passion emerged early, leading him to study at the McMicken School of Design. His fascination with animals, particularly lions, began to take shape there.

    Artistic Journey Begins

    Drake’s artistic journey took him back to New York in 1882. He spent countless hours sketching at the zoological gardens in Central Park and the Bronx, meticulously observing the creatures’ anatomy and habits. However, he quickly discovered the market for animal-themed works was limited. He continued to hone his skills with general illustration for several years before embarking on a transformative trip.

    In 1887 and 1889, he studied at the prestigious Julian Academy in Paris, further refining his technique. He also took this opportunity to travel through Europe, enriching his artistic perspective.

    A true adventurer, Drake undertook a 10,000-mile expedition to Alaska in 1893, gathering inspiration for his art amidst the rugged wilderness. This spirit of exploration continued with a sketching trip to the Catalina Islands to study seals.

    Jungle Book Commission

    A defining moment in Drake’s career came with the illustration of Rudyard Kipling’s “Jungle Book.” This project allowed him to fully embrace his love for depicting the animal kingdom. Following this success, Drake transitioned from illustration to focus on painting. His canvases, featuring creatures from wild habitats, garnered significant public appreciation and critical acclaim.

    Drake’s artistic achievements were recognized through numerous awards and exhibitions. He received honors at the Paris Exposition, the Salmagundi Club, and the American Watercolor Society. Paintings like “The First Born” and “The Royal Family” solidified his reputation as a master of animal portraiture.

    Beyond Lions

    He also proved to be a highly diversified artist, having painted landscapes during his travels. One such painting is a 1913 work of a Hawaii volcano. This painting is believed to have been executed during a round-the-world trip from New York to Madeira to the Catalina islands, including a stop in Honolulu. This global adventure demonstrated Drake’s artistic curiosity and willingness to explore subjects beyond the animal kingdom. One hundred and twenty-five of these watercolors were exhibited in April 1915 in New York under the title “Around The World.”

    Associations

    Drake was a member of prestigious art organizations, including the New York Art League, American Watercolor Society, New York Watercolor Society, Salmagundi Club, and the Artists’ Fund Society.

    A Tragic End

    We might speculate Drake had been suffering from some type of debilitating disease. Although a note was left for his niece at the time, we do not know what words it contained. On January 23rd, 1926, at the age of 70, William Henry Drake locked himself inside his studio’s closet. He took with him a container of illuminating gas, the highly toxic fuel used in lamps at the time, which tragically ended his life by asphyxiation.

    From Lions to Lava, William Henry Drake’s legacy as an artist who breathed life and majesty into creatures and landscapes endures through his paintings.

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  • The origins of Suridealism

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    A Movement You’ve Likely Not Heard Of

    There’s a special thrill in uncovering the forgotten corners of art history, finding those fascinating movements that never quite made it into the mainstream narrative. Suridealism is one such discovery – a compelling, albeit lesser-known, artistic and literary current from the early 20th century that shares some DNA with its famous cousin, Surrealism, yet fiercely maintained its own distinct identity and contested origins.

    The term “Suridealism” was first coined by Emile Malespine (1892 – 1952) in 1925. He introduced the concept in the seventh issue of the magazine Manometre with his “Manifesto Du Suridealisme.” In this manifesto, Malespine articulated a core principle of Suridealism, stating, “Idea, ideal: Suridealism is both of these things at the same time; the idea is mixed with the word and becomes an image.” He also sought to bridge the gap between the conscious and unconscious mind: “conscious and unconscious: these two terms must be identified in a higher idealized term. Suridealism will therefore be, in its most general expression, a consciousness awakened by unconsciousness, and this consciousness, in turn, modifies the subconsciousness.” [i]

    Malespine’s manifesto included a lengthy list of artists he considered Suridealists, featuring a diverse group including Hans Arp, Marcel Arland, Victor Brauner, J. L. Borges, Robert Delaunay, Tristan Tzara, and many others who were also associated with various avant-garde movements of the time, including Surrealism, Dadaism, and Futurism.

    Adding another layer to the story, the term Suridealism was also adopted by the novelist Maryse Choisy in 1927 to describe a distinct literary movement. [ii] Choisy’s Suridealism had a clear feminist agenda, aiming to counter the male dominance prevalent in the contemporary Surrealist movement and to innovate within the genre of fiction writing.

    Choisy initially claimed to be the originator of the term, a claim strongly refuted by Malespine. In his July 1928 article “Proteste” published in Der Sturm, Malespine vigorously defended his priority in coining and defining Suridealism. [iii] His tone was notably stern, criticizing certain Parisian artists whom he felt acted with an air of superiority, even to the point of trying to claim a term that was already in use. Malespine recounts that Choisy invited him to join her movement, which he publicly declined, having already established his own.

    In describing her vision of Suridealism, Choisy emphasized the role of women and youth. She wrote, “Women are often criticized for being conservative, for being incapable of creating or even following the avant-garde movements. It is up to a few creative women painters and talented musicians to prove otherwise. A Suridealist group of under 30s has just been founded, which has gathered the most important names among the rising generation.”

    Choisy further articulated her movement’s philosophy: “Our century is the century of youth. But it is also the century of women. The purely masculine civilization is a failure. It is up to the woman to set the tone, which does not mean that we exclude the man from our songs or from our meetings. We are more generous, more inclusive. There are men in our group and even in our committee. But the crusade of Suridealism is led by women.” She concluded with a focus on emotion over pure intellect: “Pure intelligence has gone bankrupt. Help will come from the heart. Not from a heavy heart or a heart lush from the senses, but from a heart bursting from emptiness. A Suridealist heart. In the heart vs. intelligence match. Suridealism cheers for the heart.”

    Beyond Malespine and Choisy, the term appeared occasionally in other contexts. In the French publication Tambour (1929-1930), author Richard Thoma mentioned Suridealists alongside other major art schools like Surrealists, Cubists, and Futurists, suggesting it was recognized, at least in certain circles, as a distinct category of artistic expression. [iv]

    Interestingly, the term popped up in American media in the late 1930s. The New York Times first used it on April 25th, 1937, labelling artist Frank Marvin Blasingame a “suridealist.” [v] Blasingame appears to be the only American painter given this specific moniker, and it’s possible this usage was independent of or unaware of its earlier French origins. The term was used again the following year, on July 17th, 1938, in the Asbury Park Press, describing Blasingame’s “ultra-modern” work and referencing the earlier Times article. [vi] Donald Bear, then Director of the Denver Art Museum, commented on Blasingame’s paintings in the same article, noting their “great power of spirit” and viewing them not as ordinary pictures but as “provocative symbols that call up states of imaginative tension.”

    More recently, in 2018, Suridealism was revisited by Antonello Morsillo in his exhibition and accompanying book, Il Suridealismo nell’arte (Suridealism in Art). Celeste Network described Morsillo’s book as “a small treatise on philosophical aesthetics, is completely pervaded by the perception of considering art as an ethical urgency.” [vii]

    While never achieving the widespread recognition of Surrealism, the history of Suridealism, with its complex origins tied to both Malespine’s broad artistic vision and Choisy’s specific feminist literary aims, along with its sporadic appearances in art criticism, offers a fascinating glimpse into the dynamic and often overlapping avant-garde landscape of the early 20th century and beyond.


    References:

    [i] “Suridéaliste manifesto” Manometer no. 7, February 1925.

    [ii] “Manifeste Suridealiste” Les Nouvelles littéraires1 22nd October, 1927.

    [iii] “Proteste” Der Strum, July 1928 page 241. Available at: https://magazines.iaddb.org/issue/DSTURM/1928-07-01/edition/19-4/page/1

    [iv] “Alstair” Tambour No. 7. 1930. In: Salemson, Harold J. Tambour. United Kingdom, University of Wisconsin Press, 2002.

    [v] “FIVE NEW GROUP SHOWS” New York Times, 25th April, 1937 page 172.

    [vi] “‘Suridealist’ Settles Down” Asbury Park Press, 17th July, 1938 page 14.

    [vii] “Suridealism in art and Suridealist art as an ethical urgency” Celeste Network 14, November 2018. Available at: https://www.celesteprize.com/eng_artista_news/idu:62838/idn:42227/

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  • Joe Doyles’s Star Chart Inspired by Polynesian ‘Stick Charts’

    FacebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmailHad a conversation with Joe Doyle today, always a pleasure talking with and hearing about what inspired some of his work. I’ve been fortune enough to acquire a few of his Abstract Illusionism pieces with plans to continue.

    During the conversation we spoke about some of his earliest work, one being “Star Chart” featured in galleries and a number of publications in the late 70’s. Though never specifically written about in any publication I can find, the real inspiration for the piece came from Polynesian navigation charts sometimes referred to as “stick charts”.

    Joe Doyle’s “Star Chart” 1975

    Star Chart (1975) acrylic on canvas 72”x 72”
    Star Chart (1975) acrylic on canvas 72”x 72”

    According to Tegan Mortimer

    “These are deceptively simple grids made from small sticks and coconut fronds, which represent the major ocean swells in the South Pacific, with small shells showing the location of islands. The charts showed how the swells interacted with the island shores, the undersea slopes, and currents coming from different directions. While the stick maps were easy to construct, it took many years of study to be able to accurately interpret the real ocean dynamics which they represented.”

    Here’s an example stick chart.

    Polynesian navigation device showing directions of winds, waves and islands.jpg
    By S. Percy Smithhttp://www.nzetc.org, Public Domain, LinkFacebooktwitterlinkedinrssinstagram

  • Hajime Kato (加藤一) Autobiography English Translation

    FacebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmailAs one of my pet projects I hired someone to translate Hajime Kato’s (加藤一) Autobiography. I can’t imagine there is enough interest in actually publishing an English version of the book, so for the time being this is just for my own interest. The project began last year and we are slowly picking away at it. I hope to have it complete by the end of 2016.

    Hajime Kato Autobiography cover
    Hajime Kato Autobiography cover

    Hajime Kato autobiography intro
    Kato autobiography intro

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    The autobiography was originally published in 1987. Here’s a short excerpt from the intro. Keep in mind this has not been “edited”.

    From the Atelier
    Soft light of early autumn coming through the northern window and filling my atelier. It’s a quiet afternoon. I’m working in a classic atelier with entresol in Paris that’s as old as me. If this were in Japan, this type of building would be condemned, and no one would want to use it. However, here in Paris, it’s still very much usable. One draft sketch on the easel. I’m planning to have a private show in Tokyo in 1987, and this is the draft for one of my signature works, “transformer of the wind”. Based on this sketch, I’m going to create a large painting that’s 2 meters by 12 meters. Being loyal to the title, I’d like to paint the dynamic image of the wind’s transformation into wings filling the canvas. My racing bikes are hung upside down from the ceiling . I have 8 of those in total. Those bikes are specially ordered to perfectly fit my body type. I even have so-called “haute-couture” bicycles that could cost as much as a small car. A poet who’s visited my atelier before was amazed, describing it as “cicada’s wings”. He’s right, it’s almost transparent, very light, delicate and strong at the same time, and hardly looks like a device that crawls on the ground.
    Those who don’t know about my biography get somewhat weirded out when they look at those bikes hung in the atelier. In fact, before I became a painter, I used to be a cycling sprinter and cycle racer. Bike-racing was my everything back then. However, in later years, I separated myself from the past and moved on as a painter. Painting became my life, and I came to Paris. It’s been 29 years already since I made that decision. Luckily, since the day I sold my first painting, I’ve met people who became fans of my art little by little and I have been able to feed myself. However, I have say, I haven’t completely separated myself from the world of bike racing. It’s been 10 years since I was chosen as a vice-president of Union Cycliste Internationale, and I’ve been part of the effort to hold the world championship in Japan as well.

    If you are not familiar with Kato’s work you can check some of it out over on my Pinterest board.

    Follow Vintage’s board Hajime Kato (1925-2000) on Pinterest.

     

     

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