It is a commonplace to say that America is the true home of the advertisement agent; but in considering the history of poster art in the United States, one is surprised to find that so small a proportion of work done in the past shows any striking originality or real grip. In a country whose special capacity has seemed to consist in beating a very large drum repeatedly, often without much provocation, it was to be expected that the very bones and sinews of a poster should be understood, and that results of the highest order should have been obtained. Contrary to this expectation, only a small group of artists doing important work can be named as illustrating the best ability of the revival which, awaking with ChÉret, Steinlen, and the others in France, spread to England, and thence normally to America. Of this group, the most able and important exponents of the art were often frankly derivative in their work. Will H. Bradley designed a number of posters which, with those of Penfield, may be said to have brought about the birth of poster art in the United States; but his most successful designs were openly based on the work of Aubrey Beardsley, the originality, charm, and extravagance of whose genius had recently taken the whole art world by storm. And Edward Penfield, whose pronounced ability seemed largely directed to the assimilation of different styles, produced posters excellent in their order, but most of them obvious work by a devoted and imaginative disciple of half a dozen schools varying during the long process of his development. We find him, for instance, producing an admirable American Steinlen in 1897, so clearly and frankly in Steinlen’s spirit, yet with such artistic ability and undoubted personality that it could be placed beside the great French master’s work, be identified with it, and yet retain its own character. This, while excellent in its way, is of course by no means provocative of a real national school, but rather serves to cramp the steps of later exponents of the art, and render their work lifeless; and one is not surprised to find that, after the days of Penfield, Bradley, and Gould, a good many years passed without any striking development in poster art in America. The last ten years, however, have discovered artists of pronounced originality and genius, and the posters of Robert Wildhack, Adolph Treidler, and Maxfield Parrish—to mention only three of the most eminent of their designers of the days immediately before the War—testified to the existence of a genuine national school, and led one to expect vital results in the production of posters inspired by the great world upheaval.

In this, indeed, were the very elements needed to call out the utmost ability of the national artists. The United States—we say it with all respect—has a keener eye for advertisement than any other nation. Let the American loose on a “whirlwind campaign”—whether in aid of church funds, an enormous commercial enterprise, or a world war—and he is in his element. All the possibilities of sign-boards, hoardings, flashlights, and every novelty and contrivance for catching the public eye, have been carried to their farthest limit, either of invention or of human endurance, on the other side of the Atlantic; and behind all this is the driving power of an intense, restless energy. It is not our place to speak here of the battlefields of Europe, and of how that energy and activity were thrown into the scale to weigh down the balance which had been trembling for so long. But in the United States, as elsewhere, it was inevitable that posters should be among the first munitions of war, and it was to be anticipated that, learning their lesson from the experiences of countries engaged in the struggle whilst their own yet remained in the position of a spectator, the State departments would improve upon the machinery which Europe had produced in this particular cause. To some extent this was done. As regards the magnitude of output, never was there such facility in the production of posters. Immediately on the outbreak of war, the Army, the Navy, and the Treasury Departments plunged into an orgy of advertisement, and employed not only their national artists, but men among the Allies and neutrals who had done distinguished work in the cause of universal freedom. That these artists were not slow to avail themselves of this new field for their restless energies is witnessed by the work done by Brangwyn and Raemaekers, who, like knights-errant, plunged with enthusiasm into this new campaign. Jonas, too, the French lithographer, was among the artists of other nations employed by the United States, and one of his posters—“Four Years in the Fight”—aiming to provide houses of cheer for the women of France, is reproduced in illustration No. 68.

We cannot, however, too often reiterate the fact that it is not enough to have a pronounced conviction and a definite purpose in doing things of this kind to do them well. The best poster artists—and here again we may instance Steinlen, Brangwyn and Pryse—are generally craftsmen of the highest order, having a very true sense of the historical development, and a perfect acquaintance with the mechanism and technique, of their art. This knowledge counts enormously, and is visible in the whole structure of the work produced. The bureaucrat who sits in his office conducting a hurried campaign on the telephone, and patronising art when at length it proves necessary to the community, fails on account of his ignorance of the real roots of the matter. The nation needed posters, so the American bureaucrat, like his brother in Whitehall, issued orders for posters to be designed—in much the same way as the British Food Controller ordered bacon to be provided, without a staff of provision experts to see that it was first properly cured.

It is, perhaps, a pity that Mr. Joseph Pennell’s book on his own Liberty Loan poster[3] was not written as a textbook for the use of Government Departments earlier in the day. The writing of an elaborate treatise on a single war poster may seem at first sight to be giving altogether disproportionate importance even to an admirable example of this type of art, and it is in danger of placing the exponent under the accusation of appreciating his own labours at an excessively high value. But when all things like this have been said, the fact remains that the volume is a serious and dignified exposition of a fine poster by a craftsman who considers that due weight should be given to all that pertains to its actual production, from the original conception of the design to the satisfactory register and inking of the final stone. It should act as a wholesome corrective of the usual slipshod treatment accorded to the artist. Mr. Pennell is at least an enthusiastic lithographer. He knows the business right through; and his little series of essays should leave his reader convinced that a poster grows in power and influence upon the spectator just in accordance with the genuine craftsmanship displayed in it.

The total effect of a poster is cumulative: we feel its design; but we feel its design more strongly for its fitting colour scheme; and still more strongly when the designer knows and works upon all the subtle qualities and texture of the stone he uses. For its maximum influence the poster must be designed by a skilled lithographic artist (if lithography should be the medium chosen), executed upon stone by him, and printed either by him or under his direct supervision. It is the failure to appreciate this which has marred so many of the United States posters, and made them of little importance. Anyone who could draw has been considered suitable for the task of designing; anyone who could print has been considered equal to printing their posters. And so we have a great mass of work, some lithographed, some photo-lithographed, some produced from photo-process blocks in colour on varieties of glazed, unsuitable papers; but very few which leave one with the cool, satisfied feeling that here is good work well done. The influence of a work of art is an elusive thing, easily lost; and to a full understanding of it years of special training are necessary. The passer in the street may be unaware of the causes of his admiration or sympathy, but the effects upon him have been proved times without number.

Necessarily, however, there are many exceptions to this general failure in craftsmanship, cases in which artists triumphed over all mechanical obstacles, and instances of great lithographic firms, with contracts from the Government, who were skilled in poster production and able to act in genuine consonance with the designers. If we set up a well-defined standard, and place in the front rank men like Raleigh, Treidler, Pennell, and Young, who are very able lithographic artists, producing posters of a high order, there still remains a large group of designers whose work may be characterised as possessing, in a pronounced degree, what has been described as the “poster sense.” They may not have the craftsmanship to make the poster all that—viewed as a complete artistic production—it should be; but there is “punch” in their sure and speedy way of conveying a message, in the pithiness and wit of their legends. Above all, they possess a great humanity—that sense of human suffering to be relieved, human wrongs to be righted, which kept the United States a beneficent neutral so long, and at length called her into the War. This is exemplified in their very best work. Raleigh’s “Must Children Die, and Mothers Plead in Vain?” reproduced in No. 63, nobly illustrates it. Several other fine posters by this artist, in a style perhaps reminiscent of Brangwyn, yet full of original energy and stirred by genuine passion, deal with the same or similar sentiments. A large number of posters of varying merit follow this lead: “America the Home of All who Suffer, the Dread of All who Wrong,” runs the legend on a poster by Paus; “Remember Belgium—Buy Bonds,” says another; and it is a general strain.

The recruiting posters in particular have a freedom of design, a vigour and grip, which really tell. For when America came into the War, she started to hustle with all the feverish pent-up energy characteristic of the race. Posters like Christy’s pretty girl in naval uniform exclaiming, “Gee! I wish I were a Man. I’d join the Navy”; Bancroft’s ringing “To Arms!” and Whitehead’s “Come on!” show a vigour and freshness which our official British recruiting posters never possessed. There was an air of glad youth in them which came like a Spring wind over our war-weary spirits.

In America, as elsewhere, all forms of activity were announced by posters—Recruiting, Food Economy, Red Cross Work, Homes for Women in France, War Loans, the organising of Polish and Czecho-Slovak citizens,[4] all kinds of propaganda, were advertised by this means.

It is unnecessary to draw further attention to Mr. Pennell’s poster, “That Liberty shall not Perish from the Earth.” He states his own intention in designing it: “My idea was New York City bombed, shot down, burning, blown up by an enemy, and this idea I have tried to carry out.” He conveys, in an effective colour scheme, the impression of a purely imaginary air-raid—a raid that never was on sea or land—with results highly picturesque and impossible. It is to be reckoned, however, as one of the successful posters of the War.

Adolph Treidler in several designs has justified the expectations founded on his pre-war work, as will be seen from one of his posters here reproduced (illustration No. 66). The work of Young and Morgan is worthy of the highest commendation; and for Raleigh’s steady craftsmanship and noble designs there can be nothing but praise.