Showing posts with label vintage art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vintage art. Show all posts

Monday, August 23, 2010

South Main Street, Janesville, 1912


Not much happening in the art department here,although I was pleased to get a state award for my paper collage of Haitian women.  Usually we just get a little paper certificate, but this time there was also a big ribbon, the sort of thing I have not seen since my days in 4-H.  I hung it on the refrigerator. Why not?

Tonight I plan to go to the life drawing studio in Whitewater, something I enjoy very much.  I missed a couple weeks because we were gone in Colorado, but  it's time to try and get some routines going again.

Today I stopped at Carousel Consignment and found this old postcard of South Main Street here in Janesville.  I digitally repaired a couple worn spots just to get a better idea of what it looked like when it was sent almost a hundred years ago.  Actually, the street doesn't look all that different today, although the building on the left has been replaced by a modern bank.  The right side of the street as shown here hasn't changed much at all.

Saturday, May 30, 2009

Bringing the Past and Present Together

I had never heard of the Palouse region of Washington until a few months ago when I began planning for this trip, but here is where my maternal great grandfather, Edward Lemuel Adams,  and his family came from, and where descendants of that pioneer family live today. The Palouse is a large area of rolling hills in eastern Washington state, green in spring, golden in summer, dedicated to agriculture - primarily wheat. It's possible that the term comes from a French word, pelouse, "land with short thick grass", or "lawn."  It might be related to a Native American term.  Appaloosa horses first came from this region.

I knew the family had a farm in Fairfield, Washington, from the comments and notes my grandmother, Bernice Adams Tess, left behind.  Though her father and mother were divorced when she was small, and he was killed when she was eleven, she corresponded with her cousins, and spoke of the family he whole life.  I wanted to see the farm, walk the cemetery and meet the cousins living in the area now.


In a book Early History of Fairfield, edited by Glen Cameron Adams, teacher, printer and historian, there is a wonderful story related by a cousin I met that day, Gerald Holt.  Holt loves to tell family stories.  He contributed this anecdote about the Adams/Holt farm established by Civil War veteran Herman Heinrich Adams and his wife, Annie Lucretia Moore in the 1880s. Gerry Holt's grandfather, Arn,  built the barn; his mother Hermanie Adams Holt features importantly in the story.

The family lived at the foot of Mica Peak in a one-room cabin with a 40-foot tent while Grandpa Holt built the large sawmill for Jim and Emanuel Hansen.  After completing the sawmill he brought his family back to Fairfield, where they stayed with Herman and Annie Adams.  In December 1909, fire destroyed the ranch house.  All the neighbors came as they saw the smoke clouds rising.  Uncle Bert Adams had his rising horse in a pasture behind his house in town and never did catch it to get to the fire.  Everything was burned except a picture of the old buildings which Hermine Adams Holt threw out the door.  The picture with its broken glass still hangs in her home.

Hermanie is gone, but Gerald has the watercolor painting, a little water stained, but a fine representation by an itinerant painter from 1890 of the old ranch.  I was thrilled when Angie brought the picture to our luncheon get-together at Cutters Cafe, in Fairfield.



After the fire the ranch house was rebuilt in brick, and today is slowly being rebuilt by Evans Holt.  The barn still stands intact, pictured here surrounded by green grass.  We went into the house, which is bare of windows, and inhabited by pigeons, and looked out over the fields toward Fairfield.  I tried to imagine Annie's lilacs blooming, the barn filled with horses, and the old steam thresher that might have been a reason my great grandpa left home.  According to Gerald, Len wanted to run the steam thresher, but his older brother Will wouldn't let him.  Len was so angry that they fought, and Len burned a haystack and left to eventually become a railroad engineer.


I knew my great grandfather was buried at Fairview Cemetery, Rockford, Washington, not far from Fairfield.  It's a pretty place on a hill, looking out over the town and the surrounding countryside. Many of the Adams cousins, Gerry Holt and granddaughter Angie, Deral Adams, and Garry Adams, and Dona Adams Kochheiser were all there that cold and windy day to walk the cemetery, talk about who was who, and take photos.  Grandpa Adams is buried next to his grandmother's second husband, Lemuel Peele Moore (1812-1884), but no stone marks Adams' grave.  The superintendent of the cemetery took down what I knew: Edward Lemuel Adams, born July 22, 1872, died May 24, 1914.  Then the cousins discussed how to best mark his resting place.  My Grandma Tess would be so pleased.



Friday, April 10, 2009

Vintage Imagery for Spring


This past winter I spent some time going through old books at my local consignment shop, looking for illustrations that I might be able to repurpose.  These are all from a children's book from the 1880's called Young Folks Jungle Stories.  If you'd like to use them I am happy to share. This one is a magpie chasing a rabbit.


I could see adapting these for collages or cards.  The original paper was yellowed and crumbling, and some images were damaged.  I repaired each with Photoshop Elements.

I also found a stash of vintage tags, and I think I may use some of these pictures to make gift tags.  I'd love to hear if you find a use for these vintage illustrations.

Friday, March 6, 2009

Seeking and Finding Vintage Images


vintage postcard of Holyrood, with collaged elements


two owls

owl 


Fieldfare and Ringed Ousel


two songbirds

I'm still cutting and pasting in the studio, but I've also been scanning illustrations from a children's book I bought at my favorite consignment shop for about the same money as a small vanilla latte.  The book is entitled Young Folks Jungle Stories, Aunt Virginia Series, published by Hurst and Company in New York, about 1903.  The cover, though damaged, features a rhino with a bloody tiger speared on its horn, not the sort of thing children's books feature today. The binding is completely destroyed, the paper yellowed and crumbling, but the illustrations are delightful.  I just have to find a way to store them in such a way they don't crumble even more until I can find a way to use them.  I plan to post a few more in the next days, and if you want to use them, feel free.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

So True!


Today is Lewis Carroll's birthday, and I decided to post this little clipping I found in a newspaper advertisement.  I had it taped inside my high school locker in the 1960's, later dry mounted to a piece of illustration board and tacked to a bulletin board.  These days I sometimes remember it when I'm slogging along on the treadmill. Certainly in my life if I don't keep on keeping at it - whatever "it" is - I start to fall behind. Whether it's reading, drawing, painting, or trying to keep reasonably fit, unless I persist, I lose ground.  A high school wrestler in one of the classes I taught once said that his philosophy was that you are always one of three things:  falling behind, staying the same, or making progress.  I hope I don't fall behind in the things that are important.