The mischievous and diabolic art of James Flora (1914-1998):
Glimpses of rare works from the archives
and news about Flora-related projects
Partial illustration, "What is Automation," Collier's magazine, March 16, 1956. Pull quote from the layout:Automation has been heralded by some as the threshold to a new Utopia, in which robots do all the work while human drones recline in pneumatic bliss.The complete two-tiered illustration—half-utopian (above), half-apocalyptic—was reproduced in our second anthology, The Curiously Sinister Art of Jim Flora.
Spot illustration, April 1946 Columbia Records Disc Digest, a monthly "commentary on the new Columbia Masterworks and popular records plus interesting features on the artists who make them." DD was the successor to Flora's popular monthly Coda, which he created for the label in 1943. Coda was seemingly "retired" when Flora was promoted from Art Director to Advertising Manager in 1945. He illustrated all issues of Coda, but very few DDs. Here's Flora's cover for the April '46 issue:
Many (but not all) of Flora's covers and spot illustrations for Coda and DD showcase a more sober side of the artist. These publications focused primarily on classical ("serious") music. Besides his well-known penchant for hot jazz—as evidenced in his wild album artwork for Columbia—Flora was a devotee of classical music and many of his Coda illustrations reflect the dignity of the genre.
The above tempera on illustration board by Flora was recently purchased by a fabulous financial blogger. The Rube Goldberg-like catalytic pipeline originally appeared in the December 1964 issue of Fortune magazine accompanying an article entitled "A New Turn in Taxes."
We return from a fine art print hiatus with our first new work of 2011: Bell Island at Night, a 1968 tempera in which Flora provides a surreal nocturnal impression of his neighbors. Bell Island is part of Rowayton (which in turn is part of Norwalk, CT), and the Flora family lived on the island at 7 St. James from the late 1940s to Flora's death in 1998. Our newest fine art print will be launched in an edition of 30 in the next week or two. We'll re-post this info upon launch. The print is currently in the final proofing stages.
Keystone Crowd, a 1968 tempera on thick stock that hasn't yet made it into one of our Flora anthologies. Unpublished, uncirculated, previously unseen work currently sitting in storage. Pennsylvania is the Keystone State, but the artist's title reference remains a mystery.
Today in 1914, James Royer Flora was born in Bellefontaine, Ohio. Above our guy is pictured relaxing at home in the late 1980s. Interesting juxtaposition of bold patterns, with hunting jacket, slacks and chair vying for focal primacy. Cameo in the upper right by the Fab Four, depicted in 1964, tho it appears to be a hand-rendered (probably not by Flora) replica of a famous photo.I love this picture; this is exactly the way I'll always remember him, with that great head of hair and his flair (?) for mixing plaids (we used to tease him about that all the time). I'm fairly sure it was my brother Robert that took it and probably for some kind of promo shot Dad asked him to create.In the early 1970s, Flora rendered an autobiographical montage, The First Five Years, in acrylic on wood. The work featured six stacked tiers depicting incidents during the artist's childhood. We posted one tier in December 2008. Here's another:
This steamroller is obviously in violation of some vehicular maximum-occupancy statute. The question is—who gets ordered to court? Most likely young Fletcher (at the controls), the only homo sapien on the scene. He's the most convenient scapegoat (though not the only goat).All the other animals jumped on top of the steam roller as fast as they could. It was the only safe place to be.Page from The Day The Cow Sneezed, Flora's 1957 children's book (his second), reprinted in October 2010 by Enchanted Lion.
"STOP!," everyone was shouting.
But the steam roller kept right on at full speed.
Illustration from the cover of Eugene Ormandy & the Philadelphia Orchestra's 1954 Columbia Masterworks 10" LP, Richard Strauss: Till Eulenspiegels [sic] Lustige Streiche and Waltzes from Der Rosenkavalier (AL-46).
The original artwork no longer exists except on the somewhat rare (and hence very collectible) cardboard sleeve. The bland, generic typesetting is poorly juxtaposed atop Flora's iconic fine-art imagery. We can only speculate that Flora — who also specialized in mischievous typography — provided the artwork but did not design the package.
Another pencil draft from the 1955 sketchbook we've been featuring the past few weeks. The purpose of this stand-alone drawing is unknown. Other sketches on the same and adjacent pages feature rough panels for a cartoon ad about Proctor toasters; none of those drawings depict a loss of limbs.
Black ink on vellum overlay of illustration from Flora's first children's book, The Fabulous Firework Family (1955). One of numerous such artifacts donated by Flora to the Dr. Irvin C. Kerlan Collection at the University of Minnesota Libraries. Overlays were used to indicate colors for printing. Flora's books were published over a 27-year span, during which printing processes underwent a number of developments. However, all Flora's books pre-date digital printing techniques.
Figures from a mid-1950s sketchbook. The two panels were juxtaposed horizontally, but are stacked here for vertical display. The purpose of the drafts is unknown, and the elements are unrelated to any other sketches in the book.
Our title, not Flora's. Draft from sketchbook ca. 1955, purpose unknown. Adjacent pages feature rough illustrations of management skills, probably intended for a topical magazine assignment.
Baba Yaga, pen & ink and oil pastel on paper, 14" x 16", 1996. Previously unpublished and uncirculated late life work (two years before the artist's death). Wiki entry profiles a dangerous damsel:She flies around on a giant pestle or broomstick, kidnaps (and presumably eats) small children, and lives in a hut that stands on chicken legs.
Flora authored and illustrated 17 children's books under his own name between 1955 (The Fabulous Firework Family) and 1982 (Grandpa's Witched-Up Christmas). A milk crate in the Flora archives contains contracts and correspondence for each one. Most of the letters passed between the author/artist and his legendary editress, Margaret McElderry.
Untitled pencil drawing discovered in mid-1960s sketchpad. Theme unknown. The pad included dozens of rough pencil sketches for Flora's 1964 book My Friend Charlie, along with a number of unrelated sketches, mainly architectural, some Mexico-inspired, most incomplete. This work echoes nothing else in the sketchpad, or any other known Flora work.
Hot Stove League entry: illustration (one of several) from "The Big Leagues Are Killing Baseball," LOOK magazine, April 15, 1958. The above image is an original painting. Many of Flora's early commercial illustrations exist only as printed reproductions, the original art either kept by the magazines or thrown out. When I interviewed Flora in 1998, I asked him about the whereabouts of his commercial originals. "They would reproduce it," I queried, "but they wouldn’t think to give it back to the artist?" Flora replied, "Yes, they would—if the artist wanted it. But most artists didn’t even think of getting it back in those days. I didn’t, mostly."
Christmas greetings Flora-style from Columbia/Okeh Records. Above: cover of the December 1942 new release flyer from Flora's then-employer. James had not yet risen to the position of art director (he would in 1943); at the time he was just nearing the end of his first year in the art department under the legendary Alex Steinweiss.
Spot illustration, Columbia Coda, August 1945. That was Flora's final year as Columbia art director, and the final year of the monthly Coda, which Flora launched in 1943 and illustrated single-handedly. In January 1946, Robert M. Jones assumed the AD role when Flora was promoted to Advertising Manager. Coda was transformed into the monthly Disc Digest, few of which featured Flora illustrations.
