The art of Maxwell Armfield, 1881–1972

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De Profundis.

I’ve known Maxwell Armfield’s work in the past mainly for the appearance of his paintings in books of late Victorian or even Pre-Raphaelite art. His depiction of Faustine (1904), which illustrates a Swinburne poem, is probably the most popular of these, with a subject resembling Rossetti’s portraits of Jane Morris. So it’s a surprise to find his illustration work using a very different, more open style based on Ancient Greek art and (possibly) Classical enthusiasts such as John Flaxman. Among the online examples, the redoubtable Internet Archive has a few book downloads available including a volume of Armfield’s rather tepid poetry, The Hanging Garden, and other verse (1914), which nonetheless includes the fine illustrations shown here. In addition there’s a curious fable by Vernon Lee, The Ballet of the Nations; a Present-day Morality (1915) in which Death stages a ballet (aka another war) to decimate humanity, and a short book Rhythmic Shape; A Text-book of Design (1920), Armfield’s guide to art and design theory.

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“Out of the East he came.”

Elsewhere on { feuilleton }
The illustrators archive

Battle of the Naked Men

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An engraving from circa 1470 by Antonio Pollaiuolo (1433–1498), presented in part for all those who arrive here searching for “naked men” although this also fits the men with swords category. One-handed Googlers will no doubt be disappointed by a mere drawing but that’s their problem. The British Museum site looks at the possible interpretations of this work and speculates about its creation.

Elsewhere on { feuilleton }
The men with swords archive
The etching and engraving archive

Previously on { feuilleton }
Behold the (naked) man

Junkopia

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A curious short film over at Ubuweb by Chris Marker, John Chapman and Frank Simeone, depicting driftwood sculptures at the shore of San Francisco Bay which resemble the remnants of some Ballardian cargo cult. The film was made in 1981 and the sculptures look weathered and dated enough (rainbow stripes; what appears to be a lunar lander) to be products of the early 1970s. The atmospheric soundtrack is reminiscent of Max Eastley’s recordings, some of which use the force of sea-borne winds to generate their sounds.

And while we’re on the subject of Mr Marker, I hadn’t noticed this Marker-related blog before.

Previously on { feuilleton }
Max Eastley’s musical sculptures
Penguin Labyrinths and the Thief’s Journal
Short films by Walerian Borowczyk
Monsieur Chat
Sans Soleil