First, Industrial Comics, Now Industrial Musicals

[via Scrubbles] The Golden Age of corporate comic books coincides nicely with the Golden Age of industrial musicals. Jonathan Ward tells their history.
These lavishly produced sales-and-morale-boosting programs were usually performed only once or twice, at a company’s sales or management conference. Souvenir records were pressed in extremely small numbers and distributed only to the conference participants, making them very rare.

On The Atomic Revolution: Part 2, American Business Concerns

The non-comic comic book is often cited as a phenomenon of these troubled times…These garish publications are marked by horror, violence and practically everything but humor. They have evoked nation-wide condemnation.
In recent years a far different kind of “unfunny comic” has made an appearance. It is a publication, drawn in newspaper strip form, prepared for and distributed by American business concerns…These little books are becoming an important tool in industrial public relations. They go to stockholders, employes, schools, civic organizations, and the general public. As a medium of goodwill, they have proved extremely effective.
New York Times, Sept. 1956

The driving force behind these “industrial comics”? Mr M. Philip Copp, a commercial artist-turned-agent-turned-publisher, a Connecticut sailing man from the Ivy League (well, he attended both Princeton and Yale), who set out, quixotically, to win over the leaders of the American Establishment for the “juvenile delinquency”-inducing medium they were, at that very moment, condemning— comic books.
During the Forties, Copp repped Noel Sickles, whose cinematic chiaroscuro style influenced generations of comic artists. Copp apparently sought to leverage this powerful style for Larger Purposes than just entertainment. He comped up a “Life of Jesus” comic book, but neither the Lord nor his churches provided, and the project was shelved.
Detail, The Korea Story, M Philip CoppStiffed by God, Copp turned to Caesar, then Mammon: in early 1950, the State Department bought over one million copies of “Eight Great Americans,” in eleven languages, for its worldwide propaganda war against the Soviet Union. Then in September, Copp flipped another million copies of “The Korea Story,” a comic booklet denouncing the communist North Korean June 25th invasion of South Korea. It was distributed in the Mid-East and Asia as part of the State Dept’s “Campaign of Truth.”
1952 was at least as busy for the M. Philip Copp Publishing Company. He made commemorative comics for utility companies, followed by a 50th anniversary book, “Flight,” which was purchased in large runs by the Aircraft Industries Association, Douglas Aircraft, Lockheed, IBM, and GM. Oddly, his probable classic, “Crime, Corruption & Communism,” went unmentioned in the Times puff piece which is the source for many of these details.
Copp took a Company Man view of his comic books, calling himself “a ‘catalyst: [I] furnish the basic idea, bring together artists, writers and researchers, and out comes the finished product.” It may have been an attempt to reconcile the comic art he had an eye for with the highly circumscribed, WASP-y world he lived in. Copp didn’t quite finish school; he ran a job shop, selling the Latest Thing to his classmates, neighbors, and yacht club slipmates; his boat was only a 14’ knockabout, but he was funny and, later on, wrote glowing profiles of his sailing friends for the Times.
Maybe I’m imagining (or projecting), but Copp’s eager desire to please his native tribe has kind of a sadness to it. The Atomic Revolution is remarkable in part because of the incongruity of powerful artwork and the patently hollow Military Industrial message it delivers. But it hints at what might have been, if Copp’d had been less concerned with his standing at the yacht club and more concerned about his place among artists.
Related posts:
Part 1: On M. Philip Copp, The Military Industrial Complex’s Goto Guy For “Unfunny Comics”
Finding The Atomic Revolution: Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a winner

“A magazine without a cruise is like a Muscovite without a stockbroker”

Q. You’re posting about magazine cruises?? If TMN told you to jump off the Empire State Building, would you?
A. Could I basejump?

Mr George Loper and Molly Ivins on The Nation's 2000 cruise, image:loper.org
Mr George Loper and Ms Molly Ivins, aboard the MS Ryndam
for The Nation‘s 1998 reader cruise. image: loper.org

Eric Wemple’s report of the failure of The New Republic‘s reader cruise is good, but doesn’t reach the hilarity of Eric Alterman’s New Yorker account of The Nation‘s near-mutinous first cruise.

A cruise consultant who had helped set up the trip was taken aback by the ambience. ‘I’ve never seen a cruise audience be so ornery to its guest speakers,’ he confided to me by the Stairmasters, adding, ‘and it’s not only the New Yorkers, either.’ He was grateful, though, that no one tried to unionize the crew’s largely Indonesian wait staff.

It’s part of Mr George Loper’s [pictured above] The Nation Cruise Anthology. Nick’s experience with one Nation editor begs the [gender biased. So sue me.] question, “Would YOU go on a cruise with this woman?”
Able efforts all, but for my money, David Foster Wallace is still king of the Reportage From Cruises You Don’t Want To Go On hill.

Ebay Find: Smart Car in the US


There’s a 2000 Smart Car for sale on Ebay, which appears to be legal in the US. Colorado registration, 12.5K miles. No mention of the EPA/DOT paperwork, but you can email the seller for details.
We’ve rented a Smart in France, and we beat our heads against the Smart dealership wall in Nice for several days, trying to get them to tell us how/why they helped Sally Jesse Raphael get one into the US, but they wouldn’t help/tell us. [But isn’t it because she was a star, you ask? Non. Any one of us is arguably more famous in France than Sally Freakin’ Jesse Raphael.]

101 Cameras: Lars von Trier and Me

For almost three years, I’ve carried a little red movie ticket in my wallet, the old-fashioned pulpy kind, from a big roll. It says “Emergency Re-admit” on it. It enables me to return and see Dancer in the Dark, which I went to see one weekday afternoon in 2000. After 15 confusing minutes, I snapped and decided I’d better get back to work, and I hastily, if temporarily, abandoned the controversial film.

Dancer in the Dark, image: finelinefeatures.com

Last night, I watched it on DVD, and it blew me away. It’s not just a movie starring a singer, it’s a musical. All this time, I’d assumed that meant it had some aggressively amateurish Sound of Music renditions, with Catherine Deneuve and Bjork as added gimmicks. So I was half-watching while writing when the first actual musical number came on, almost halfway into the film. After that, I was transfixed.
Von Trier was intent on “covering” the musical numbers in one take, as live events–come what may audio-, image-, and mistake-wise– using 100 cameras. It didn’t quite happen that way. They did use 100 fixed, synch-coded DV cameras (140 for one song), covering the entire performance area, and they shot several takes, all the way through. Additional crews shot close-ups of Bjork. The result: a staggering amount of footage (68 hours for one three minute song) and, presumably, a big job in post.
Rapid cuts between fixed shots stands in sharp contrast to the never-resting hand-held camerawork in the rest of the film. From the commentary tracks, the choreographer Vince Paterson, who did the Vogue video, meted out whip-cracking tough love, Madonna-style, on his Dogme-soaked, improv-happy collaborators. Vince made sure the 100 cameras positions and framing was actually based on the staging. His impressive combination of imperiousness and restraint comes through in his commentary, (“We found out it would serve our purpose much better to involve me.”) and it’s not hard to accept von Trier’s comment that Paterson saved the movie.
The limitations of this ultimately low-tech, handcrafted sophistication are apparent, though. Von Trier rightly laments the short cuts it produces: “Maybe if you had 2,000 cameras, you could get some longer cuts and closeups.” At the same time, he argues strongly against editing between multiple takes and for multi-camera coverage of a single performance. It all reminds me of The Matrix Reloaded, of all things. Specifically, the god-like CG camera technique the Wachowksis and Maeda used to film The Burly Man fight, the one with 100 Agent Smiths and thousands of cameras.

Venice: Vidi, Bitchy

The Venice Biennale is finally over open, and not a day too soon. For a bunch of whiny Americans, anyway. In the Times, Carol Vogel complains about having to see art “amid relentless heat intensified by the power needed for lighting and video installations.” Meanwhile, artnet’s Walter Robinson, an apparent Venice virgin, complains about having to see art in “some historic buildings,” the heat and the dearth of video. [After the massive sucking sound that was 2001’s video choices, less is definitely more, Walter.]
Lisa Dennison, chief curator of the Guggenheim (“Where the sponsor’s always right!”), complained to the Times about the curators having too much say. [Or the Guggenheim not having enough: they apparently lobbied hard for Matthew Barney’s Cremaster Cycle to be chosen for the Guggenheim-owned American Pavilion. Fred Wilson got it instead.]
Wilson has an African street vendor selling fake purses at the entrance to his installation of Venetian Moor-related art. Via Vogel: “Richard Dorment, an American who is an art critic for The Daily Telegraph of London, said he was speechless when he saw the pavilion. ‘To put a seller of handbags in front of a pavilion is condescending to both Americans and Venetians,’ Mr. Dorment said. ‘This is a person, not a work of art. Where are the days when major American artists represented our country?'”
[Rowrr. Dorment apparently lived up to his name; his sniping ignores 1) the inside of the pavilion, which many people praised, 2) the major majorness of the 2001 show’s Robert Gober, and 3) Maurizio Cattelan showing a buried person–an Indian fakir, whose praying hands stuck out of the sand–in 1999. And besides, in 2001, Venice was plastered by billboards for some museum exhibition which pulled the same street vendor stunt as Wilson.]

Elmgreen and Dragset, Spelling UTOPIA, image: e-flux.com
Elmgreen & Dragset’s e-flux poster, starring Lala, image: e-flux.com

People, if you’re looking for Pitti, it’s in Florence. Venetian art parties rank below even Cannes film premieres on the Burdens Likely To Evoke Sympathy scale. It’s a lesson well learned by the Guardian’s Cannes crank, Fiachra Gibbons, who clearly looked on the bright side in Venice. His reports are giddy fun, from his Black Power shoutout for Wilson’s work, and Chris Ofili’s British pavilion to his star-struck love letter to Lala, the diva chimpanzee star of “Spelling U-T-O-P-I-A”, by my pals Elmgreen & Dragset. [There’s something for the blogosphere to figure out: at what point does “in the interest of full disclosure” become “shameless touting of my connection to famous friends”? Ask me tomorrow when I post about my friend, Olafur Eliasson.]
As I sit here in New York, recovering from my A/C-induced cold, I’m working on an “I Survived the Venice Biennale” T-shirt, for those who truly suffer for art. Stay tuned (or feel free to send a design suggestion or two).

On M. Philip Copp, The Military Industrial Complex’s Goto Guy For “Unfunny Comics”

The Korea Story, 1950, excerpt, published by M Philip Copp

Discovering The Atomic Revolution–a stunningly drawn, cheerleading 1957 comic book for Our Friend, The Atom–and being in an apocalyptic Animated Musical state of mind, I set out to discover its origins, and its elusive creator, Mr. M. Philip Copp, whose only other known (to Google) publication was a 1952 comic book, Crime, Corruption & Communism.

Continue reading “On M. Philip Copp, The Military Industrial Complex’s Goto Guy For “Unfunny Comics””

On the people in my neighborhood, v6

  • There’s a new Struth museum photo on my street; it moved in next door to an old Frank Stella painting. People who have good art rarely bother with curtains.
  • Researching The Atomic Revolution, that rad Establishment comic book I want to rip off for my Animated Musical, I ventured into the library of The Society of Illustrators, which turns out to be just around the corner. Who knew? It’s sort of an inker’s Friar’s Club; there’s a gallery on the ground floor, a bar/dining room (which I’d imagine fills up with crusty cartoonists around, oh, 11:00AM), and an eclectic library on the third floor. Alas, no trace of Mr M. Philip Copp or The Atomic Revolution. [At least not there.]
  • On my corner, then, an entrepreneurial neighborhood scamp from the co-op had set up two Hammacher & Schlemmer-y folding tables, and was doing brisk business in home-baked goods. A couple of years ago, the kid–he’s probably 12 now, with new braces–set up one table in front of my building to sell gum. (Parents buy a case at Cost-co, kid sells the packs individually. It’s like printing money, for a 10-year old. Still, as our now-closed neighborhood fountain pen store proved, you need more than one product; I gave him a couple of books to sell.)
    He’s since learned the importance of location–and foot traffic–to a retail operation. And he’s got his schtick down pat; as the neighborhood ladies marvelled at the marble cake (“And is that red velvet? I make that!”), he let it slip that he’d baked it himself last night. That’s right, those kids over on Fifth may be foisting their nanny-cake on the doormen, but on Lex, the law of the retail jungle prevails: it’s every man for himself. By the time his parents brought the Range Rover around for the drive to Southampton, he’d sold out his entire inventory of brownies and (bundt and red velvet) cakes.
    Lizzie Grubman, if you ever actually open a bakery here, you’ll have some stiff competition.

  • On, Apparently, Not Getting the Memo

    I broke down and subscribed to Harper’s after they jacked up their newsstand price. I can’t go without my Harper’s [You shouldn’t either.] But apparently, much like David Remnick before him, the illustrious Roger Hodge somehow neglected to notify me of Harper’s Weekly Review, which resides online. I had to learn about it from The Morning News. Not bad, but still. When is Big Media going to realize it’s real problem is not paying me enough attention?
    But nevermind that for now. Here’s an excerpt from this/last week [Urgent note to Mr Hodge: What, no archive??]

    President George W. Bush staged a handshake between the Israeli and Palestinian prime ministers at a summit meeting in Jordan. President Bush, Prime Ministers Ariel Sharon and Mahmoud Abbas, and King Abdullah II of Jordan stood outdoors together in the hot sun wearing suits and ties but were kept free of unsightly perspiration by tubes installed by White House operatives that blasted cold air from an ultra-quiet air conditioner that was hidden nearby. Sharon and Abbas read statements about the “road map” to peace that were largely written by American officials. “I think when you analyze the statements, you’ll find them to be historic,” Bush told reporters later. “Amazing things were said.” Hamas, Islamic Jihad, and the Al-Aqsa Martyrs Brigade responded to the summit with a joint attack on an Israeli military outpost in Gaza, killing four soldiers. Elsewhere, in the West Bank, Israeli forces shot a seven-year-old Palestinian girl in the abdomen.

    Frieze Mag’s SMS Reports from Venice

    The Venice Biennale is opening right now, and the artworld (minus 1 or 2) is trying to crash each other’s parties. Far from regretting not being there, I am getting a full Biennale experience, thanks to Frieze Magazine’s, SMS reports. For the second morning in a row, we were repeatedly startled awake by my cell phone vibrating across the room.
    Here’s one from yesterday: FriezeSMS Venice 03: Text message codes: Pav=Pavilion. Gia=Giardini. Ar=Arsenale. IO=Invite Only. Pa=Party.
    And this morning, a splash of a review: FriezeSMS: Not even the Op Art effect of the glittering lagoon prepares you for Ofili + Adjaye’s luminescent rooms. Paradise is within reach. Sun Factor 40…
    Last Biennale, too, we waited until later in the summer, avoiding the art masses, at least. Here’s my Sept. 7, 2001 post about the visit, from back when the weblog was young.

    Rafael Vinoly on the WTC Competition(s)

    [via Archinect] Last month, MIT’s Dept. of Architecture hosted a presentation by Rafael Vinoly, the Al Gore of last year’s WTC competition study competition. Vinoly was part of Team THINK, and he tells about the antics at Herbert Muschamp’s NYT Ground Zero (about 20 minutes into the stream), coming up with their plan for building a World Cultural Center (about 40 minutes in), and winning the campaign.
    Some highlights: (1:15:00) “Libeskind was courted; he was actually in Germany and decided not to enter, and the LMDC went to Germany to get him– because he was the Owner of Death or something (audience laughter).”
    Vinoly may be more polite, but he’s not alone in his criticism of Libeskind. “Dream Teamers” Peter Eisenman and Steven Holl weren’t shy in discussing their disgust, either. And as Gothamist reports, Libeskind’s design is still under fire from many sides.
    Though he pointedly doesn’t talk about waking up the next morning to find out they’d lost, Vinoly does give some advice on the Memorial Competition: (1:42:00) Q. Should entrants in the Memorial Competition take the Libeskind scheme as a departure point? A. “The major prob with the [Libeskind] scheme is that the scheme does the Memorial… I know for a fact…that what [the LMDC and memorial jury] are expecting is precisely somethng that actually changes this…Do what you want, because that’s what they’re expecting.”

    Speaking of the End of The World…

    Maybe a Tarkovsky movie works best as a memory; watching The Sacrifice again after many years was a little trying. However easily I got distracted by some of the antic, theatrical acting, the make-or-break single-take scene at the end, where the < SPOILER ALERT> house burns < /SPOILER> has a langorous, unassuming awesomeness. It’s not your typical one-shot, in so many ways.
    Anyway, The Sacrifice’s post-nuclear armageddon setting reminded me of a good Wim Wenders film, Until The End of the World. Actually, it was listening to the even greater soundtrack, which reminded me.

    On Taste Tribes

    via Boingboing: On Mindjack, Joshua Ellis writes at length about what he calls Taste Tribes, friendship by cultural affinity–liking people who like the same stuff. Blogs are the engines for the smarter artist/chiefs of their own taste tribes.
    shagpad logoI cooked something up along those lines in 1999 at Shagpad, which was based on the Austin Powerish, Abercrombie & Fitchy theory that people bought stuff in direct relation to its ability to get them laid. Or as the VC-Powerpoint presentation-ready slogan goes, “Shagpad.com leverages web and e-commerce technology to monetize aspirational lifestyle portfolios that facilitate getting mad play.” The idea came out of some client work which became, in part, Pop.com (They chose the wrong part, I thought.) At Shagpad are a couple of essays that are not quite embarassing enough to take offline (and besides, the buy-this-lifestyle Amazon links usually pay the hosting).
    [Update: It should be noted that I peeled off my friend Jeff’s last name; he’s a sculptor in Red Hook, and the Google searches were beginning to cramp his style. Now that Wallpaper* has declared Red Hook trendy, I’ll probably have to change that, too. Aaron, you have my sympathy.]

    Bloghdad.com/Baghdad_Museum_Director_Due_For_A_Private_Lynching

    First, the BBC uncovers the truth behind the too-good-to-be-factchecked Saving Private Lynch story, calling it “one of the most stunning pieces of news management ever conceived.”
    Now, according to the Guardian, a BBC news program shows the Wholesale Looting of The Baghdad Museum story to be just as made up.
    Question for media: When it’s a Ba’ath party official playing you, do you still call it “news management” or is it just lying? Bigger question for media: Now that you’ve been demonstrably managed lied to by nearly everyone in this war, are you going to start demonstrating a scintilla of journalistic skepticism?