Boris Artzybasheff, 1938 Caldecott Artist: Where Insight Meets Imagination

(Internet Archive, Lyme Art Association)

Boris Artzybasheff (1899-1965) was born in Russia, where he fought with the White Russian forces during his late teens. Following the Communist victory, Artzybasheff came to the United States in 1919, where he fell into engraving and eventually illustrating after some time laboring in print shops. Although so far, I have not found much about his personal life, I went down a long and beautiful rabbit hole learning about his art.

The Life of Caldecott Artist Boris Artzybasheff

There are quite a few excellent biographies of Artzybasheff floating around the Internet. In addition to the usual Wikipedia page, I would recommend:

This Short Biography by Dominic J. Iacono, Associate Director of the Syracuse University Art Collection for the American Society of Illustrators.
Brian Flon's biography for the Lusher Gallery contains additional details of his time in Russia, fighting with anti-Communist forces, and the circumstances of his decision to stay in the United States.

One interesting fact that pops up here and there about Artzybasheff is that he worked as a consultant for the Psychological Warfare Branch of the U.S. State Department during WWII. Although I have not see any more information about that in my research, I found the following document form the Ike Skelton Combined Arms Research Digital Library that provides a lot of insight into what that type of work entailed.

Artzybasheff's first and only Caldecott honor was in 1938, the ALA was already familiar with his work through the 1928 novel Gay-Neck: The Story of a Pigeon, for which Dhan Gopal Mukerji received a Newbery.

Beyond the Caldecott: The Art of Artzybasheff

Although I love the artwork in Seven Simeons, the book is just a sliver of Artzybasheff's amazing talent. He illustrated more than 50 books and book covers, but he was probably even more renowned for his commercial art, most often for powerhouse magazines such as Time and Fortune, as well as for industrial giants of the day such as ALCOA, Shell, and AVCO. If that doesn't sound very creative to you, think again. His portraits and cover art for Time are compelling even now -- and if you're not familiar with the subject, believe me, you will be Googling names to get the full story behind the picture. Little wonder that many of his works are hanging in the Smithsonian's National Portrait Gallery. In fact, the teacher in me would LOVE to create a history lesson where students pick a favorite image of his to study, use the portrait alone to make inferences about the subject, and then do research to confirm or refute their interpretation.

Also included in his body of work are a series of artworks depicting anthropomorphic machines, anti-Axis images during WWII, life in modern society, and mental illnesses. Several of these have relevance even today, and almost all of them present an incisive perspective on their subjects.

The collage below provides a peek into the diversity of his work. What strikes me most, I think, is that the artwork for Seven Simeons, which appears in the center, is so unusual among what preceded and followed it, although an artist may see more similarities than I do:

In fact, although I wouldn't dare to say that I have seen all of Artzybasheff's output, the closest stylistic samples that I have come across are from 1925's The Forge in the Forest and 1929's Three and the Moon. Even so, Seven Simeons still seems to have be created with a much lighter hand:

In any event, the treatment of the tale in Seven Simeons is certainly much lighter than that of Poor Shaydullah, Artzybasheff's story about a hapless poor man in "the city of Marrakech" who "people from the four corners of the earth passed by . . . in endless succession." Unlike many "tales of the poor ____," Artzybasheff's title character is much darker, insulting those who do not give alms and rejecting well-meaning suggestions to work, trade, or even steal to better his lot. Instead, he embarks of a journey to ask Allah himself "why my share has not been given unto me." On his way, he meets three creatures as miserable as he is: a lion, a banana tree, and a giant fish -- all of whom give him what they can in spite of their pains, with the hope that he will pleas with Allah on their behalf. He finally meets Allah and hears his message: "'A share of my blessings is given . .not unto him who has the strength to take it, yet folds his hands and reclines upon the lap of idleness . . . And if there be aught which pleaseth me, there is but to say, BE and IT IS.'" (Quote taken from Poor Shaydullah, last page.)

However, Shaydullah is so consumed with the idea that he is due riches without any effort that he does not apply any of the wisdom to himself. Instead, he hurries back to his home, which he expects will be laden with riches and servants, barely stopping long enough to offer advice to his friends. In so doing, he passes up a diamond and a chest full of gold, only to be eaten by the lion. The book ends with a quote from the Quran: "And so doth Allah mislead whom He will, and whome He will doth he guide aright: and none knoweth the armies of thy Lord but Himself: and this is no other than a warning to mankind" (SURA LXXIV). The pictures, sampled below, reflect this tone despite some of the humor they also try to depict:

In terms of the pictures, the darkness is particularly evident in the appearance of Allah toward the end of the book. In the collage above, the picture in the lower left corner shows a detail from the cloud surrounding Allah as he talks to Shaydullah. Whether this darkness is due to the fact that Shaydullah is evidently conceived more as a cautionary tales than a fairy tale -- or due to more deep-seated prejudices and stereotypes -- I lack the research to argue. (Suffice it to say, I doubt for many reasons that Shaydullah would make it onto many bookshelves today given its character depictions.) Nevertheless, in terms of style, it seems to fit in more with Artzybasheff's larger body of work than his Caldecott-winning book.

Until I find a better explanation for Seven Simeons's singularity, I am going to stick with a possible reason that I found in this description offered by Cattermole 20th Century Children’s Books: “The book won every graphics prize at the time. The author, when asked if the illustrations were suitable for children, denied that they were illustrations at all, but the realization of a dream.” No idea where they got this information, but it fits with my observation.

More Artzybasheff to Explore

If you want to see any of the snips above in more detail -- or if you just want to have your mind blown away by Artzybasheff's creativity and output, check out my fellow Blogger's 12-Part Series on Boris Artzbasheff by "Art & Artists". Here, you'll find another short biography along with copious examples of his work. I have catalogued them below in case there is a particular work or style that interests you. Keep in mind that some of the portrait or ad lists may not be complete, and in some cases I have added my own notes, so when in doubt, just click and discover!

Part 1

• Fortune ("Japan in Asia") and Time (Ho Ch Minh) magazine covers; 1941 Imperturbable Tank Attack
• Cover for his 1954 book As I See
• Book illustrations: The Undertaker's Garland by John Peale Bishop; Verotchka's Tales by Mamin Siberiak; Creatures by Colum Padraic; The Wonder Smith and His Son by Ella Young

Part 2

• The Forge in the Forest by Padraic Colum
• Funnybone Alley by Alfred Kreymborg

Part 3

• Book illustrations, including the Newbery-winning Gay-Neck: The Story of a Pigeon by Dhan Gopal Mukerji, as well as Orpheus, Myths of the World by Padraic Colum; Three and the Moon: Legendary Stories of Old Brittany, Normandy & Provence by Jacques Dorey; Aesop's Fables
• Golden Book Magazine covers

Part 4

• 1932-1954c Machinalia. (I especially like the "Executive," "Hydraulic Press," "Making Steel," "One Lump, Please," and "Weaving Fence.")
• 1934-1954 "Neurotica," a collection surrealistic depictions of mental illnesses and their associated symptoms, including addiction, alcoholism, hypochondria, and repressed hostility.

Part 5

• 1940s WWII art and ads.
• The anti-fascist illustrations are particularly notable, especially "Swastikas," which turns the Nazi symbol into a series of ghouls. Also take a look at "Economic Mobilisation" for Fortune in 1941; you may never see a graph the same way again.
• "The Last Trumpet" wood engraving.
• Book illustrations: The Circus of Dr. Lao by Charles G. Finney; Seven Simeons: A Russian Tale (his own Caldecott-honored book).

Part 6

• Artwork for Time and Fortune, including Alexander Vasilevsky, Heinrich Himmler, Admiral Mineichi Koga, Karl Doenitz, Elmer Davis, Turkish Premier Sukru Saracoglu, Harold George, Admiral Nagano, Field Marshall Feder-von-Bok, Marshall Timoshenko, Dimitri Shostakovich, Admiral Ernest J. King
•  The portrait of Stalin as the 1943 Time "Man of the Year" stood out most to me, as did the portrait of Nagano.

•  I also enjoyed the fairly whimsical "Corn Kernel," which shows all the places and products in which different parts of the little nugget appear.

• A series of ads for drinking cups and Parker Pens

• Cover art for Tree of Life

Part 7

• "Axis in Agony" caricature series
• Time covers, including WWII military figures and politicians, Marian Anderson, Sinclair Lewis, Eugene O'Neil, Billy Rose, Marlin Perkins, and historian Arnold J. Toynbee.

Part 8

• A series of ads for "Alcoa sails the Caribbean"
• Time cover portraits, including Chen Lifu, C.S. Lewis, U.S. Secretary of State George C. Marshall, Atomic Energy Commission Chairman David Lilienthal, David Ben-Gurion, Edwin Hubble, George Gallup, J. Edgar Hoover, Cornelius P. Rhoads, Louis Armstrong, Hubert Humphrey, Charles Erwin Wilson, Pan Am's Juan Trippe, India's PM Jawaharlal Nehru, Mao Tse Tung, Frank Stanton and K.C. Wu
• Cover art for Raymond Chandler's The Little Sister
• A cute-but-scary Time cover of Coca-Cola nursing the world

Part 9

• More Time cover art and portraits, including interesting portrayals of The Pentagon, U.S. Commerce Secretary Charles Sawyer, T.S. Eliot, the "Space Pioneer," "The Executive of the Future," Charles Edward Wilson, Kurt Schumacher, and Lt. General Vasily Stalin
• A series of artwork for Shell Oil and Lycoming, as well as an intricate 1951 work entitled "The GM System of Floriculture"

Part 10

• Ad and artwork for Shell Oil, as well as machinalia.
• A very intricate artwork "Gods and Demons" for Life.
• More Time cover art and portraits, including Jonas Salk, Haitian President Paul E. Magloire, Dave Brubeck (another personal favorite), Roy Campanella, toymaker Louis Marx, Marshall Georgy Zhukov, Ed Sullivan, NY Superintendent of Schools William Jansen, Stalin, Allen W. Dulles, Sound-barrier-busting Test Pilot Bridgeman, and an "Amateur Photographer."

Part 11

• Several Time cover art and portraits, many of which you can see at the Smithsonian's National Portrait Gallery: Carl Jung, Nikita Khrushchev, World Bank President Black, French politician Pierre Poujade, "The Missile," a self-portrait, "The U.S. Repairman," "The Telephone Man," "Space Exploration: U.S. vs. Russia," LBJ, "U.S. Commuters" (still so true today) and Jacques Cousteau (personal favorite).
• Also "1960's New Products" and "Fabled Voyages, Bizarre Findings, and Lunar Fiction.

Part 12 

• Several Time cover art and portraits, some of which are featured at the Smithsonian's National Portrait Gallery, including: The Berlin Wall (personal favorite), John Glenn, Lady Bird Johnson, "Red China," Ho Chi Minh, Lee Harvey Oswald, D. Brainerd Holmes, Walter Ulbricht, C. Douglas Dillion, Brezhnev, R. Buckminster Fuller, Kong Le, "New Products," and "The Computer in Society"
• Art for Der Spiegel ("German Automation")
• Fortune ("U.S. Public Health Service")
• Overseas Press Club of America, and AVCO
• "1961 Leisure Camping"
• A 1951 Christmas card that shows how impending taxes were ruining the holiday spirit for the Artzybasheffs
• The undated "Skeleton Hand and Skull Silhouette"
  

Reflections on Caldecott Artist Boris Artzybasheff

As expansive as the above collection is, there is even more to see, and in spite of its stylistic diversity, one message comes through loud and clear: No matter what the subject, Artzybasheff had a lot to say about it. Every line, in fact, seems not just to tell a story but to transmit the sentiments of the artist, which can even include conflicting emotions such as fascination and disgust -- inspiring those same feelings in the viewer. 

While this quality alone would be enough of a legacy, Artzybasheff's place in both the literary and commercial worlds put him in a unique position to inspire imaginations as well as to preserve one of the most turbulent periods of world history for ages to come.

For more, see:  

• Seven Simeons, 1938 Caldecott Honor: A Tale for All Ages? 
• Seven Simeons: Caldecott & Book Collector Notes

Seven Simeons, 1938 Caldecott Honor: A Tale for All Ages?

 

(Photo Courtesy of The Literary Lion)

When you delve into older children's literature, there are certain stories that you feel might not have been as well received today. On its face, the 1938 Caldecott Honoree Seven Simeons: A Russian Tale by Boris Artzybasheff is one of those tales, but there is more to the story than that. Much more.

The Story of the Seven Simeons

The storyline is as old-school fairy tale as you can get: 

Douda, a wealthy king deeply in love with his good looks and power, hears tell of a Princess Helena whom he decides would be the perfect bride based solely on a description of her beauty. Realizing, however, that the 10-year journey to her kingdom would make it impossible for him to bring her back in all her youthful splendor, he decides to distract himself with hunts. On one of these outings, he is distracted by a gorgeously plowed wheat field (yes, you read that right) and meets the seven brothers, named Simeon, who plow it. 

As luck would have it, each brother has a magical power. Douda is enthralled by the abilities of the first six, but he imprisons the last when he learns that the Simeon is able to steal any treasure. Despite the fact that their brother is unjustly imprisoned, the remaining brothers happily showcase their powers to the king. Their feats inspire Douda and his jester to free the remaining brother and send all seven Simeons to go kidnap the beautiful princess. 

The brothers do as instructed. On the way back, Princess Helena uses some magic of her own to attempt three escapes, but she is overpowered each time by her captors. Happily, though, when they return to Douda's palace, she is enamored with the gorgeous king and sends word back to her father that she is in love, inviting him to the wedding. The missive arrives just in time to stop him from killing the guards who were supposed to protect his lovely daughter, but he decides that he is too busy to attend the affair. Still, he is happy for his daughter's happiness. The Simeons return with his regrets, and Douda offers them all permanent places in his court, which they refuse, preferring to return to their field. The king agrees, guaranteeing the freedom of the seventh Simeon, and has a fantabulous wedding.

Looking just at these events, I am not really sure where modern parents might cringe more. Would it be the exploitation of the poor brothers, whose honor and work ethic so exceed that of their tyrannical master? Or would it be the idea that a woman's worthiness is determined solely by her looks -- and the belief that this can only diminish with age, leaving her without any value? Would it be the notion that she is some sort of chattel, belonging either to her father or her husband?  If none of these, surely most of us can't help but think "Stockholm Syndrome" or worse when Princess Helena falls for her king and captor.

Nevertheless, there is something about the way that Artzybasheff tells this tale that saves it from being completely dated. It all starts with the opening, which seems to poke fun at the monarch and his court:

King Douda was wise, King Douda was rich, and he was strong, for he had a strong army; so strong it was that nobody knew just how strong, not even his own generals.

Doesn't sound like anyone really knows what's what.

The description continues to list all of his possessions and assets, including "forty times forty" cities each with 10 palaces made of silver, crystal, and "the best gold too!" He also has "nine old men, all with long white beards and large wise heads" to advise him in "matters of state." The worst part of all this? Douda has no appreciation for any of it:

Would you not think that a king like Douda should have been happy? Not at all! There he was: rich, wise, powerful, and moreover, he was very good-looking! So good-looking was King Douda that his beauty could not be imagined, nor described with a pen, nor told about in a tale. Yet he was very unhappy. He was sad because he could not find a worthy maiden for a bride, a princess who would be as good looking as himself.

Once he sat on a golden chair in his garden upon the shore of the sea, thinking about his misfortune . . .

Of course, Artzybasheff is primarily an artist, so whatever his commentary, we really only to look at his pictures to see what he thinks. As it happens, he has a lot to say.

Artzybasheff Adds Art & Insight to the Tale of the Seven Simeons

Let's start with the opening image of King Douda. The image accompanying this introduction underscores Douda's ridiculousness, as he sits not on just a golden chair but a gigantic throne atop a carpeted section of his garden gazing at himself in a golden mirror. Is the dog sleeping contentedly or laughing? You decide:

For whatever reason, the words and pictures on the opening spread reminded me of Lord Farquaad from Shrek, and this connection only grew stronger as the story continued and Douda set others out to seek his bride: He wants her but lacks the courage to seek her. In fact, it is amazing what Artzybasheff, using only 4-colors and line drawings, is able to say about his subjects -- and I think there is a level of irony similar to the story of the ogre, only with a much different conclusion. 

Looking again at the opening picture of King Douda, his pose seems stilted and unnatural. Contrast this with the depictions of the brothers, where the faces are more expressive and there is a sense of movement. Along with the lack of gold leaf ink, this quality makes the brothers seem more alive despite the stamp-like arrangement of the page; they seem more natural and interesting with minimal scenery that Douda does with all of the elaborate foliage and furniture:

Artzybasheff continues this motif throughout. The brothers may be surrounded by gold and embellishments when in the presence of royalty or their magical creations, but gold never touches them. The delineation can be no clearer than in our first view of them, pictured below on the left. Here, the gold is in the background under the feet of the royal guard. Again, notice how much more natural the brothers seem in their wooded surrounding than the king did in his; you almost want to join the simple picnic:

Another thing to notice on the left is the lack of detail used on the guards in the background. The drawings throughout the book show that Artzybasheff can drawing very intricately when he wants, so we have to assume that the lack of faces on the guards is intentional, particularly when a couple of pages later, they appear in all of their finery, as shown on the left where the guards are carrying the seventh brother away. 

What was his purpose? I think you can look at it on several levels. First, in the picnic picture the lack of detail on the guards keeps the focus of the picture on the brothers, the real subject. Second, their facelessness may show the perspective of the brothers; at the picnic, they are too involved with themselves to notice or care about the guards, but they are very aware of them as their brother is being hauled off. Third, and much more thematic, I think that Artzybasheff may be saying something about their overall significance. The power that these men have only comes through their association with the king; the further they are from his presence, the less they possess. Hence, in the picnic scene, their power is simply a golden shadow, while in the second scene, they are enveloped in it. Add to this statement the transformation of their faces,which are little more than moustaches in the picnic scene, and perhaps the artist is saying something about their humanity as well. 

The seven Simeons are immune from these facial transformations, suggesting that they are always themselves; their power and personality are solely their own. Why? They serve their king without desiring his riches or power: When it is offered to them, they refuse it. Their motives are pure. Thus, they may lack luxury, but they have much more.

Perhaps this interpretation is reading too much into things, but I don't think so. Everything that I have read about Artzybasheff suggests that he is a thoughtful artist -- one who came to the United States fleeing the Russian Revolution -- so I think he had very intentional messages. Moreover, the face motif appears earlier in the book as well, when Douda leads his men out on a hunt.  The detail on the men's faces diminishes as their distance from Douda increases; even the dog veering off away from the king's horse loses its eyes.

The play on faces also appears later in the book, very dramatically at the palace of Helena's father as he prepares to execute the guards who failed to protect his daughter from the kidnappers: 

Perhaps this is to show that they are "dead" to the king having failed to protect Helena, or perhaps it is more than that. Remember, the execution is halted when the king gets word from Helena about her happiness. Although at peace with the situation, the king still refuses to go to the wedding. Given the fact that the Simeons have a magic ship that can transport him to and from the wedding in a matter of days, the king's reason for not attending the royal wedding of his only daughter seem silly: "because of important matters of state which required his direct attention, such as training his army and seeming that his spare army was well groomed." 

These reasons seem like pretty every-day stuff that one's generals could easily handle. Moreover, in the same spread, even the guards on horses are silhouettes; only the king and executioner have faces and details. Again, this could just reflect the perspective of the king at that moment. However, if we contrast this with the depictions of Douda's court, we see that there is a greater level of humanity in Douda's kingdom. Perhaps Helena's kidnappers were her rescuers.

Artzybasheff only raises this consideration artistically. The text focuses on Helena's feelings rather than the political climate in either kingdom -- and honestly, the more we get to know Princess Helena, the less we might care whether she was happy or not.  Helena is as materialistic and shallow as her groom. She is easily lured from her father's side onto the ship by the promise of more treasure. Despite the facts that she is kidnapped, Artzybasheff makes it clear that it is her choice to stay:

Even the King himself ran out to welcome Helena to his kingdom. He took her by the hands and led her to his palace, saying, "Please, my beautiful Helena, make yourself at home. We have heard about your beauty but it truly is greater than we had hoped. But, if you say the word, I shall send you back to your dear father. I cannot be so cruel as to keep you here by force!"

Here the Princess looked upon King Douda and, as she looked at him, it seemed to her as if the sun itself danced in the sky, as if the sea played music and the mountains broke out in a song!

What more can one say? The princess saw how good-looking Douda was and she fell in love with him.

The order of events is important: She falls in love after she is given the option to leave.  Much less "Stockholmy." In fact, she writes her father, "I have found the man worthy of my hand [emphasis added]" and waits for her father's blessing to marry.  There are subtle differences in her facial expressions to underscore the change in her feelings:

Of course, she falls in love with looks alone, much like her husband. Thinking back to the beginning of the story -- when Douda decides that he cannot seek Helena because sending an envoy on a 10-year one-way journey would bring her back old, withered, and useless -- I can imagine him telling her the same story and her replying, "Of course, you're right, my love -- and think how crooked and gray you would be. You were wise not to try."

Our "closing shot" emphasizes this similarity; the two lovebirds have the same expression and are starting to look frighteningly alike.

Reflections on Seven Simeons

At the end of the day, though, it's not for me or anyone to judge Douda and Helen. Love happens for all sorts of reasons. Certainly theirs is not the first marriage based almost exclusively on mutual attraction, and it won't be the last. Besides, whatever we may think of the royal couple, they do seem right for each other. More important, they are happy, just as the seven Simeons are when they leave the court to return to the wheat field that they love so much. Happiness comes in all forms, but it is certainly more constant when it comes from within.

For me, then, the book is something of a "hit" despite some of its outdated mores. The more I read it, the more I see, and I love that in a work.  On a personal note, having been to Russia, I am awed at how Artzybasheff is able to capture the ornate splendor of its palaces and churches using a deceptively simple technique like 4-color line drawing.  

I guess the only question is whether what works for the individual reader. The only "criticism" I have -- to the extent that there needs to be one -- is that Seven Simeons is a children's book, and I am not sure how accessible the style or any possible commentary would be to children at a typical "fairy tale" age; nor I am sure that older readers would be drawn to the subject matter. Whether the same was true back in 1938 when there were fewer distractions available to kids, I can't say, but think it very possible that the book can find the right audience today even if it may be more limited. More important, it is more than it seems on its face, and in this way, I think it's a very "modern" book.

For more, see:

• Boris Artzybasheff, 1938 Honor Artist: Where Insight Meets Imagination
• Seven Simeons: Caldecott & Book Collector Notes