Detail from a 1918 Leyendecker painting
for The Saturday Evening Post.Can't really say what drew me to J.C. Leyendecker's work way back in ye ol' college days, but unlike a passing fancy with Salvador Dali in high school, Leyendecker's appeal endures.
Most wouldn't be able to tell a Norman Rockwell from a Leyendecker - both doing roughly the same type of work for magazines and advertisers before photography came of age. What sets Leyendecker's work apart, and which I find most appealing, is that unmistakably quiet, other-worldly haughtiness or aloofness in the faces of most of Leyendecker's subjects - one that's automatically quite charming and captivating at the same time. (I'm excluding, of course, the baby cherubs, children, and adolescents painted for
Kellogg's advertisements and the Spring editions of
The Saturday Evening Post.) And whether it's because of these expressions or the staging of his subjects, there's always just enough there, (or not), to make you wonder what else is going on, (or, 'What is he thinking'), or that leaves a lot to the viewer's imagination/interpretation… something I already seem to be doing second-naturedly… to draw the viewer into the art as much as possible through a subject's expression or what
doesn't appear.
While I look to Leyendecker as an expert in these regards, and also in rendering light reflected by a subject's skin, and his ability to blend color to create the illusion of a flawless skin, I also understand the stylization of most of his figures - Normal Rockwell prompted to say,
"he could never paint a woman with any sympathy." (1)
It's here I depart not only from Rockwell's inept critique, but also from my hero's approach.
My goal is to present the natural handsomeness of my subjects, more or less as they are, and in spite of their apparent imperfections.
Cheers!
(1) Schau, Michael. J.C. Leyendecker, New York: Watson-Guptill Publications, 1974. p33.