last Chance

Chance Encounter (detail above), a 1970 Flora tempera, was issued in a limited edition run of 20 in 2008. With last week's sale of print number 1/20, the edition is now sold out. It may later be offered in reduced form in print items such as cards, calendars or folios, or commissioned as exclusive, premium-priced, custom-formatted single prints produced privately at our discretion. But that's it for edition prints. Chance Encounter is our first sold out limited edition release.

brain map

Untitled tempera on board, 1964, reproduced in our second book, The Curiously Sinister Art of Jim Flora (Fantagraphics, 2007). Though ten years separate the works, certain elements are reminiscent of the 1954 RCA Victor LP Shorty Rogers Courts the Count.

"Mr. Flora, this is Aleksandr Kerensky"

Rowayton Remembered, detail of woodcut print, ca. 1974

My Brush With History
a series by the readers of American Heritage magazine
James Flora's contribution
February/March 1997 (Volume 48, Issue 1)

During the late 1940s I lived in Rowayton, a small Connecticut village, with my wife and two small children. I was the art director of Columbia Records, a job I dearly loved. In my work I had many opportunities to meet the musical celebrities of the day, Frank Sinatra, Benny Goodman, and Duke Ellington among them, and I considered myself a fairly cool cat.

Fate had blessed me with Roussie, the world's most delightful daughter. At the time she was somewhere between four and six and my regular weekend date. Every Saturday we did the chores together, visited the post office, and wound up in the town's only drugstore.

Soybel's Pharmacy was a true drugstore—no greeting cards or eyelash curlers. In the rear of the shop the druggist filled prescriptions and sold patent medicines. The front was given over to a small, gaudy soda fountain with four or five stools. George Soybel's counter was a gathering place for the town cognoscenti, and the stools were almost always filled.

Detail of Rowayton street map by Flora, 1980, depicting drugstore. The large
(15" x 23") map was issued by the artist as a signed, limited edition print of 200.
The last remaining copy in the family collection was sold last year to a local.

One cold wintry Saturday Roussie and I had finished our errands and went to cap the morning with a visit to Soybel's. We were in luck. Only one stool was occupied. A gentleman in a heavy black overcoat and a natty Borsalino hat was nursing what seemed to be a ginger ale float. I sat next to him and hoisted my daughter onto the stool beside me. While she and I were deciding what to order, George Soybel emerged and greeted us.

"Jim, I want you to meet a new resident in Rowayton," George said. I turned to the stranger, who had a pleasant, angular face, and extended my hand. He took it.

"This is Aleksandr Kerensky."

ALEKSANDR KERENSKY!

Was this the Aleksandr Kerensky who had been the first premier of the provisional Russian government after the 1917 revolution? The Kerensky who had held the fate of the world in his hands? The man who could have ushered Russia into the twentieth century, avoided the murderous regime of Stalin, saved the world from the Cold War? Who might even have been such a benign and powerful influence on the 1920s and 1930s that Hitler could never have risen to power and World War II might never have happened?

As if he could read my thoughts, he smiled and nodded several times in confirmation. Pictures of the revolution flashed through my mind. Kerensky was thirty-six in 1917, and here he was, three decades later, wrinkled but recognizable, and rather handsome.

A dozen questions stumbled behind my tongue. Why had he not been more forceful when he had the reins of power in his hands? Why had he failed to prevent Lenin from entering Russia? Why hadn't he seized and imprisoned him? What should I ask first? I opened my mouth.

"How do you like Rowayton?" was what came out.

Kerensky proceeded to tell me how happy he and his American wife were in our town. He enjoyed the peace and quiet he found here and was finding time to write, et cetera, et cetera.

A woman appeared at the door.

"I'm ready," she said, and Kerensky hopped from his stool, shook my hand, and exited.

The trouble with history is that it has a habit of rushing by us so swiftly that we don't recognize it until we see the taillights receding in the distance.

Sheffield Island (partial scan)

Partial scan (about one-third, with color checker card) of unpublished 1954 woodcut print Sheffield Island. The original block is in the Flora family collection. Only a handful of original artist prints exist. We are contemplating issuing a new limited edition run of the complete work next year.

Little Rock Getaway (pre-launch)

This will be our next limited edition fine art print. Little Rock Getaway is an undated Flora tempera that reflects his mid- to late-1960s color schemes and contours. It will be released soon in an edition of 25. Floraphiles can pre-order via the linked title.

Flora at Etsy

We recently opened a Jim Flora store at Etsy.com. For now, the shelves are merchandise-sparse, but more items will be added in the coming weeks. Current and future Etsy offerings are also available through our fine art prints gallery and our Little Shop of Flora's. Either place you purchase, the source is the same: us. We're also considering listing some exclusive items at Etsy.

We'll have Flora 2011 letterpress calendars available in September. Same designs as 2010, and possibly some new ones, all produced by Yee-Haw Industries of Knoxville.

The Complete Guide to Cartooning

The above profile of Flora appeared in The Complete Guide to Cartooning (Grosset & Dunlap, 1950), by Gene Byrnes. Byrnes had a long, distinguished career as a syndicated cartoonist (Reg'lar Fellers) from 1915 to 1949.

Flora never claimed to be a cartoonist per se, tho his commercial illustrations—in particular the 1940s Columbia album covers featured in the profile—certainly were cartoonish. In his quotes (click the image for enlarged reading), Flora doesn't address any aspect of cartooning; he offers an artistic credo vis-a-vis the demanding world of commercial art. Ironically, by the time this book hit store shelves, Flora had bailed from his executive perch at Columbia and was en route to Mexico with his family to spend 15 blissful months creating art without commercial pressure.

physical inventory risk

We learned the phrase "physical inventory risk" last week from someone in the music business. It describes why, in the current industry-wide economic downturn, many record labels won't gamble on artistically worthy but commercially uncertain projects: because of the probability ("risk") they'll end up with unsold goods ("physical inventory," e.g., CDs) sitting on distributor and retailer shelves. Rather than commit (again, "risk") financial resources to marginal productions, they trim existing catalog and/or keep the release schedule lean.

While this is a regrettable state of affairs for niche markets and the artistically adventurous, from a business standpoint, it's understandable and fiscally prudent.

We bring this up because Fantagraphics Books, publisher of our three Flora anthologies (The Mischievous Art, 2004; The Curiously Sinister Art, 2007; and The Sweetly Diabolic Art, 2009), recently informed us that stock is low on the first two books and they will not be reprinted. This is a situation over which we, as authors, have no control. The economics of publishing make reprints of limited-market titles prohibitive. You may think Flora is a world-renowned artist whose legacy is commercially indisputable. (If so, we agree.) But to the broader public, Flora remains largely unknown, a cult figure.

So be advised: if you've been meaning to buy our Flora books but have delayed purchasing, you're running out of time on the first two books. They will eventually be available only on the secondary market at collector's prices:

As of this writing, new and used copies of Curiously Sinister are still available at reasonable prices. Mischievous is becoming scarce and prices are trending upwards. New copies of our most recent book, Sweetly Diabolic, remain in stock.

G3 in Tampico: the restoration

We launched our latest Jim Flora fine art print, G3 in Tampico (detail, left), earlier this week. The original 1970 tempera painting on artist board is shelved in storage at the Flora collection in Norwalk, Connecticut. The title is an enigma, but so are the figures (full work below). Here's a peek at the selection and restoration process behind our fine art prints.

The Flora catalog is huge; as co-archivists, Barb Economon and I have a growing list of works flagged for print production. G3 was not on this list. Most original works on paper have been scanned at high resolution, and oversized canvases have been photographed. The digital files then undergo a carpal-straining restoration process to prepare the images for print media (e.g., books, paper goods, fine art prints). This process is the purview of Barb, a specialist in digital image technology. It's become obvious during our research in the collection that Flora was less than fastidious in the preservation of his past art during his lifetime. It's likely that the large volume of historical works balanced against the ongoing creation of new works left little time for the artist to focus on safeguarding his legacy. Sunlight, humidity, careless shelving, aging, and accidents, as well as adhesive stains, paper acidity, and nicotine smoke have all taken their toll. After Flora's death, his family placed the entire collection in safe, climate-controlled storage (photo, lower left), where most of it remains to this day. The greater the deterioration of (or damage to) the original, the more restoration work is required.

A few weeks ago a small record label requested an image to license for a CD cover. Reviewing hundreds of digital files, I discovered G3 (previously unpublished and uncirculated) and sent the label a low-resolution jpg (along with a batch of additional images). On closer examination, I realized the image had not been restored. Strictly as a Zen exercise, I undertook some rudimentary cleanup over several days, and the figures began to percolate. I reached the limits of my restorative powers and turned the file over to Barb. She made additional corrections and adjustments, and decided to produce a test print. It was declared a masterwork, and we decided to issue an edition. The entire process from idle cleanup to print launch took four days.

Below is a before/after comparison of the images (click to enlarge). The original is in bad shape — there are faded areas, soiling, paint loss, and moisture spots. It's amazing what you can accomplish with painstaking mouse-clicks.

I considered purchasing G3 from the Flora family. However, considering the condition of the original, I opted for a print. The damaged work would be expensive to restore, and without professional restoration it will continue to deteriorate. (Its condition is effectively stabilized in limited light, climate-controlled storage.) The new print reflects the work much as Flora created it forty years ago, with a few minor aging artifacts.

new print: G3 in Tampico

Our newest Flora fine art print, G3 in Tampico, is available at JimFlora.com. The 1970 tempera (on board), titled by the artist in pencil on the reverse, sits in storage, previously unseen. The work had not previously been published or reproduced anywhere.

Tampico is the main city in the Mexican state of Tamaulipas (and the birthplace of legendary Space Age Pop maestro Esquivel); however, the significance of the Flora title (the "G" and "3" elements notwithstanding) is unknown. Peepers, towers, foliage, phallic imagery, and teats: G3-rated for moderate ambiguity. Edition of 25.

typographical puzzler

The above typography appears on the covers of at least three RCA Victor LPs from 1956 and 1957, one by pianist Hal Schaefer, another by polymath-bandleader George Russell, and a third by saxophonist/clarinetist Hal McKusick. Of the series, Schaefer explained: "I was invited to participate in The RCA Victor Jazz Workshop. You had to be a composer, arranger and instrumentalist, all rolled into one." (Which abundantly explains Russell's inclusion.)

In each case, the album covers are photographic, the "Jazz Workshop" logo branded in a corner. There's no typographical credit, yet the intricate lettering appears to be the handiwork of Flora, who often toyed with typography and illustrated dozens of RCA Victor (front and back) covers between 1954 and 1961. The letter fills reflect Flora's painstaking mischief.

One Floraphile insists on the benefit of the doubt. That would be me. Until proven wrong, I remain insistent.

Redskin Romp (typography)

Hand-lettered typography from cover of Charlie Barnet's 1955 compilation Redskin Romp 7" EP (also released as a 12" LP). Barnet (1913-1991) was a Swing Era bandleader and saxophonist whose first 78 rpm hit, "Cherokee," released in 1939, inspired the Indian-themed title of this 33-1/3 rpm hi-fi retrospective. Above is a section of the full cover; that's a non-lookalike caricature of Barnet in the lower left.

science geek 5

Detail, cover illustration, "Human Engineering: Tailoring the Machine to the Man," Research and Engineering magazine, February 1956. We reproduced the entire illustration here. Pure blacks are missing from the detail, an enlargement of a scan of a worn cover. Copies of R&E in any condition are difficult to find, and the original art has not been located.

Mexican cityscape (1967)

Untitled Mexican motif, pen and ink (or tempera) on paper, 1967. The work was reproduced in our most recent book, The Sweetly Diabolic Art of Jim Flora.

The Fabulous Firework Family (cartoon)

Flora's first children's book, published in 1955, was adapted for animation by UPA's Terrytoons in 1959. It was directed by Al Kousel and produced by Flora's longtime friend Gene Deitch. Jerry Beck of Cartoon Brew posted it to YouTube and wrote about the project at his blog here. We agree with Jerry's assessment: "Though Flora was involved with adapting the story to the screen, the final result wasn’t entirely successful in translating the charm of the original book." Jerry also explains that it was "the last cartoon Deitch personally produced at the studio." Flora's close friend Gene moved to Prague with his wife in '59 and to this day continues to live and prosper there. Deitch makes periodic contact with us to convey recollections of his departed friend Jim and share rare Flora artifacts. Gene also wrote the Foreword for our first book of Floriana, The Mischievous Art of Jim Flora.

New York in the 1950s

One-half of an undated black and white business card (mock-up) from the 1950s. At the time, though he lived in Rowayton CT, Flora shared an office (and probably an art studio) at 21 East 63rd Street in Manhattan. A classic tempera painting from the period caricatures the neighborhood.

No copies of the printed version of this card exist in the Flora collection. The discoloration in the upper right is an aging artifact.

Red Mike hunts the scissor boy

Detail from title page, Charlie Yup and His Snip-Snap Boys, Flora's third children's book, 1959. That's Charlie, snipping away at right; the villain with the lasso is Red Mike.

In the book, Red Mike is ... red. However, as with many illustrated books of the period, color pages alternated with black and white to make printing more economical. A number of Flora's kiddie books reflect this trend.

Electromechanical Design

Page from 1957 sales brochure for Electromechanical Design magazine. Flora illustrated an unknown number of covers for this (now long-defunct) monthly. In the 1950s and '60s, he was often a go-to artist for science-related journalism, as evidenced by his work for Research & Engineering magazine.

Ohio

This three-tiered montage appeared in Fortune magazine in 1947 as part of a 48-state series sponsored by the Container Corporation of America. Flora, an Ohio native, was commissioned to illustrate his birth state. A color version—as it ran in Fortune—was reproduced in The Mischievous Art of Jim Flora. Tearsheets turn up periodically on Ebay.

The above greyscale version—presumably the original, described as "watercolor, gouache, and pencil on paperboard"—is in the Smithsonian collection, according to their online catalog. It's not clear if the original is black and white and colorization was added at the magazine print stage, or if the image was converted to greyscale for the Smithsonian's database. A phone call to the Smith would resolve the matter. It's on our to-do list.

Jolly birthday

Peter Ceragioli Jr. was born this day in 1932. You may not recognize this West Coast jazz pianist, accordionist, and composer by his birth name. Beyond TV and film soundtrack cognoscenti, he's probably obscure even by his stage name—Pete Jolly. The keyboardist was a child prodigy on accordion, as spaceagepop.com points out:

When he was eight, he made his first broadcast appearance, billed as "The Boy Wonder Accordionist" on CBS Radio's Hobby Lobby. The show's emcee messed up his name, announcing him as "Pete Jolly," but the boy liked the sound of it and used it ever after.

Though his name is little recognized today, Jolly had a long, distinguished recording, composing and performing career. To Floraphiles, however, he is a household name, having been idiosyncratically rendered by the artist twice (in duo and trio releases) on 1955 RCA Victor 7" EP covers. In each case, Flora's caricature in no way resembled a recognizable human being. But then, Flora always insisted he "couldn't do likenesses." Original copies of both covers are extremely rare and highly sought by Flora collectors.

We issued a screen print of the Pete Jolly Duo cover in 2007.

I spoke to Jolly briefly before he passed away in 2004. I was soliciting quotes for our first volume of Floriana, The Mischievous Art of Jim Flora, the anthology that contained most of the artist's album cover illustrations. Having tracked down Jolly thru the L.A. musician's union, I gave him a call. He had no recollection of either EP cover and claimed never to have heard the name Jim Flora. Though Jolly was a gentleman to chat with, I came away from the conversation without a quote.