RIP: Bill King

Though I receive The New York Times digitally, I don't always read it daily. Thus I'm now learning of the passing of sculptor Bill King, who passed at the age of 90 on March 4.

http://www.nytimes.com/2015/03/27/arts/design/william-king-sculptor-who-used-wit-dies-at-90.html?_r=0

I got to know Bill because I emailed him through his website asking if he was the same William King who did the mural in the ss United States' First Class Smoking Room. He replied: "Well, for Heaven's sake-------YES, I did the 1st Class Smoking Room mural, and what a project! It was deliriously wonderful to have experienced the process. Indeed it was!"

That was the summer of 2012, and we corresponded off and on. In late January of this year, he sent me a hand made card; a picture of a trio of his sculptures on a piece of cardstock. Here's the front:

He was always kind enough to answer my inane questions, and tolerated my gushing over his work.

I've done a brief write-up of his Big U mural. You can read here.

Resorts at Sea: Bill King's ss United States Smoking Room

Not bad as far as drafts go. Definitely need to find better images! Enjoy!

 

To see images of King's latest exhibition at the Algus Greenspon Gallery, go here.

 

To learn more about Bill King, go here.

 



 

An illustration from the Lester Beall designed United States Lines brochure. The overall color scheme

is representative, but the mural colors, except for the bronze, are way off. Instead of the beige

shown here, it was actually rendered in shades of blue-green.

 

Dorothy Marckwald and Anne Urquhart contacted the dean of Cooper Union in early 1951 asking if there were any “rising stars” they should be aware of. The dean gave them William King.¹

“It was a jet assisted boost to my career,” King said. “Heady days.”

Born in 1925, in Jacksonville, Florida, King originally wanted to be an architect, but after two years at the University of Florida, something was lacking. In a story King is fond of telling, his mother told him, “Here’s a hundred dollars. Now get out of this state and don’t come back till you’re 65. There’s nothing here for you.” ²

Two years at Cooper Union were followed by a stint at the Brooklyn Museum Art School, where, in addition to his studies, he was an assistant instructor in sculpture. A Fulbright grant in 1949-1950 took him to Italy, during which he spent time at the Accademia dei Belle Arti in Rome.

Group shows include those at the RoKo Gallery in New York, the Cooper Union Museum, and the Museum of Modern Art’s “New Talent” exhibit of 1950. King was commissioned to do a fresco in South Solon, Maine in 1951. His works are in the collections of Nelson Rockefeller and John Hay Whitney, and others. ³

X marks the spot of King's mural.

 

Which brings us to this mural. Almost born to sculpt, this piece for the smoking room is definitely a departure. Wanting something of the oceans and time, King drew out the Mercator projection on a piece of cardboard for Marckwald and Urquhart. “They liked it,” King remembers, dryly. (But he also wondered if the ladies were in over their heads.) By fall 1951, the commission was officially his.

On December 1, 1951, King joined Charles Gilbert, Gwen Lux, Hildreth Meiere, Peter Ostuni, Austin Purves, Jr., Louis Ross, Charles Lin Tissot, and Raymond Wendell for a tour of United States, hosted by designer William Francis Gibbs. Though the ship looked practically complete on the outside, much work was going on inside. King remembers standing in the forward part of the ship and feeling he could see clear to the stern.

The artists at the shipyard. From left to right: Austin Purves, Jr., Charles Lin Tissot, Louis Ross,

William King (highlighted), Hildreth Meiere, Charles Gilbert, Gwen Lux, Raymond Wendell, and Peter Ostuni.

(image courtesy of David Hendrickson)

 

It took King almost six weeks to work up the full size sample in the cold water flat he shared with his wife, painter Lois Dodd⁴, on East 29^th Street, New York; full size being approximately 25 feet wide and 10 feet high. Drawn figuratively, the continents are dotted with bronze plaques labeling important cities. A frieze of clocks marking time zones graces the top. Finishing touches are a few decorative waves, and bands indicating the equator, Tropics of Cancer and Capricorn, and 40 degrees north latitude.⁵ The blue greens of the mural are in striking contrast to the browns and coppers of the room. You cannot help but notice it.

Through spring 1952, there were “beaucoup meets” with Rambusch Decorators during the fabrication process, which turned King’s sketches into five slightly curved panels of 1/8-inch thick aluminum.

1. Direct quotes, unless otherwise noted, are from conversations and correspondence between Bill King and Wayne Yanda.

2. This story has been phrased in a variety of ways in a variety of interviews.

3. Selected exhibit and collection data are from the William King papers, 1910-2007. Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution, reels 487, 488.
4. King and Dodd were soon to separate and divorce.
5. In a letter dated January 31, 1952, Anne Urquhart wrote Austin Purves, Jr. telling him she saw some of King’s metal work, thinking “it is very swell.” Austin Purves papers, 1939-1961. Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution, reels 112, 113.

 

Resorts at Sea: October (The Mystery of Michael Lantz)

One of the more frustrating aspects of this project is the only information about the artists involved appears in conjunction with the ship where their art appeared. That’s the only mention. Don’t get me wrong, the hunt has been fun, but there’s only so many times where saying “The game’s afoot!” can get my mojo going. A few times, I’ve been the victim of misspelled names; the wrong vowel can make a world of difference. Somewhere in-between all this is sculptor Michael Lantz.

He’s mentioned in the May/June 1952 issue of The Shipbuilder, the magazine of the Newport News Shipbuilding and Dry Dock Company, builders of the United States. There’s even a picture of him. (see top right) And he’s mentioned in the September 1952 issue of Marine Engineering and Shipping Review. In these two publications, Michael Lantz is credited with the sculpture in the Cabin Class Dining Room of the United States. (To be fair, the wording used in both publications is practically identical.)

Let’s check The Big Ship by Frank O. Braynard. The Big Ship is, to me, the definitive work on the United States. Braynard wrote, “One of the many well-known artists employed to decorate “the Big Ship” was Seymour Lipton. He did many of the aluminum sculptures that provided a continuity of décor in the ship’s foyers and public spaces. In the Tourist Dining Saloon one of this works featured a bull.” What the wha?

 Front cover and pages from the Lester Beall designed brochure on the ss United States.

Center: a representation of the Cabin Class Dining Saloon. I've seen a shot
where it shows Centaurus, not the American Eagle in that location.

Right: a list of artists and their work onboard the ship

I looked up Seymour Lipton. His style of sculpture was nowhere near that used in the foyers, not that it’s a deal breaker. One’s style can be adjusted to suit the moment. Braynard also referenced Lester Beall’s magnificent brochure introducing the ship. I have a copy, and Lipton is not mentioned in it. Austin Purves is credited with creating aluminum sculptures of state birds and flowers for the First Class stair landings and foyers. Erica Egan created murals depicting 18^th and 19^th century sailors in the Tourist Dining Saloon. And Michael Lantz did the aluminum outline sculpture of the constellations for the Cabin Dining Saloon.

Thoroughly frustrated, I needed another source to set this right in my mind. An internet search brought up the September 1956 issue of American Artist and the article “The Sculpture of Michael Lantz.” It was on eBay, the price was right, so I bought in hopes it would provide some answers. Success! Lantz used the outline method for the United States “to keep the weight of the sculpture within the specified limits.” Those limits aren’t specified in the article, but I’d love to find out what they were. There was no mention of Seymour Lipton.

Left: Horse in the Crown Room in the Du Pont Plaza Hotel. Right: Horse in the Cabin Class Dining Saloon.

Even if there wasn’t any mention of the United States, there was a photo in the article of sculpture Lantz created for the Crown Room in the Du Pont Plaza Hotel in D.C. The sculpture in the Crown Room is larger than that in the Cabin Dining Saloon on the United States, but when compared with the latter, one can easily tell they’re from the same sculptor.

... ... ... 

Ocean liner history often deals with size, speed, service history, and the personalities behind it all. Though an integral part of the design process, interiors are usually an afterthought in remembrances. They’re in the background. I don’t mean to fault Braynard. I have an autographed set of his mammoth six-volume work on the Leviathan. (Which is excellent.) But having access to the same period documents – and knowing his ephemera collection was way better than mine ever will be – it bums me out a little knowing some facts were considered more important than others.

... ... ...

Looking at the fluidity of the lines in Lantz’ sculpture reminded me of something else. For some reason, I kept confusing Michael Lantz with Walter Lantz, the creator of Woody Woodpecker. The lines in the animation of Woody are very fluid. Well, it turns out that Michael was the younger brother of Walter. How crazy is that?

Resorts at Sea: January update

During a typical ocean liner's career, her decor was rarely, if ever, changed. She would go in for her annual overhaul, and given and good scrubbing inside and out, top to bottom. When done, she looked as good as the first day she sailed. Furniture may have been reupholstered, but it was renewed, not changed to reflect current trends.

This was the case -- from what I can determine -- for all major ocean liners. Ships like the Queen Mary, Christoforo Columbo, and Rotterdam may have received mechanical upgrades over the years, but the interiors were left alone. I can't remember where I read this, but the woodwork on the Rotterdam contained varieties so rare, repairs had to be made from other pieces of wood already on board.

Now I did find one instance where the Cabin Class Dining Room on the United States was repainted from a midnight blue to beige. Mmm ... beige ... *yawn*

(above) A rendering of the Cabin Class Dining Room on the United States

in the original midnight blue. (below) I started to repaint the walls

in beige, but since that color is so boring, I started to doze off.

Today's cruise ships are frequently overhauled. New amenities are needed to compete. Public spaces are added, renovated, or completely redesigned. Despite being advertised as one of the last ocean liners, the QE2 received more face lifts than Joan Rivers. Her original late '60s mod designs slowly gave way to a traditional British Art Deco as the company embraced its heritage. Which was a good thing, I don't think a room looking like a set from 2001: A Space Odyssey could really carry it off today.

It was frequently the case for the retired or laid-up American passenger ship to find new owners overseas. Holland America took Moore-McCormack's Argentina and Brasil. Chinese interests picked up APL's Presidents Cleveland and Wilson, plus two of the "4 Aces." Several Greek companies bought the pre-World War 2 Grace and Matson liners. Perhaps the biggest "get" was Chandris' acquisition of USL's America upon her retirement in 1964.

The America from a postcard in my collection. Under ownership

by Chandris, her dummy forward funnel was removed. Two days after

 she ran aground in 1994, she broke apart just behind the second funnel,

roughly in front of the last three lifeboats.

As cruising took hold, these ships would see numerous overhauls as they changed owners, usually increased capacity with more cabins and/or more berths in existing ones. While the America would see these changes as the Australis, her public spaces remained virtually unchanged from 1939.

In fact, those areas were remarkably well preserved up to the point when, while under tow to Asia for transformation into a floating hotel, her tow chains broke during bad weather and she ran aground off one of the islands in the Canary chain in 1994. While scavengers ransacked her for any piece of brass or copper they could lay their hands on, it's tough to say whether any of interior decoration made it off. Doubtful, as some murals were up to 20 feet long; tough to carry down a rickety ladder welded to the hull.

Parts of this Charles Baskerville mural around the Main Lounge

entrance on the America were still visible after her grounding

in 1994. This August 1940 image is part of the Gottscho-Schleisner

Collection in the Library of Congress.

Whatever didn't make it off was slowly destroyed over the next dozen years as nature slowly wore her down, each wave scooping out her insides. If any pieces did survive, who knows where they're at now.

Resorts at Sea ... June update

With the help of some invaluable research assistance, several hundred pages in articles have been amassed and are currently being skimmed for further leads.

Research is interesting. (No fooling, it really is.) Now a typo may sound like a minor thing, but it's opened up another avenue to travel. Allow me to discuss an article concerning a post-war renovation ...

Artwork on Moore-McCormack's Argentina (ex-Panama Pacific liner Pennsylvania, not her 1957 replacement) was attributed to Theodore Stanos. I believe they meant Theodoros Stamos.

Which leads to a lesson in too much is really too much. In a short bio, I read Stamos was the executor of (fellow abstract expressionist painter) Mark Rothko's estate. Rothko's family later accused Stamos of serious financial shenanigans. To settle the judgment levied against him, Stamos agreed to sign over his house to the Rothko estate. Interesting? Very. Relevant to what I'm working on? At this point, doubtful. In any case, the fact he was an abstract expressionist fits with the rest of the art on the Argentina, thus the Stanos referenced in the article is most likely Stamos.

Which is why I'm not sure if it's practical or feasible to include a mini-history of modern American art and do it justice. There is just so much to cover. I'm warming to the idea of some artist bios scattered throughout, but there are over 60 artisans (and counting) to choose from.

Switching gears a little to focus on actual artwork ...

The top portion of the photo shows the First Class Dining Room of the ss United States.

The center highlighted portion shows Gwen Lux's Expressions of Freedom statues carved

from foam glass to save on weight. I'm curious to know who did the other highlighted 

decoration on the left. It's delightfully amorphic. The bottom if the First Class Ballroom

with Charles Gilbert's carved glass panels depicting sealife.

With the exception of the pieces from the ss United States, very few works of art from these ships remain. Thanks to a 1984 auction, just about everything from the United States wound up in private hands. The statues Gwen Lux created for the First Class Dining Room are in the Mariner's Museum in Newport News, Virginia, and several carved glass panels from the First Class Ballroom make up the decor in the SS United States Restaurant onboard Celebrity Cruises' Infinity.

The mural above the bar is similar to the one salvaged from the Texas Clipper

before she was sunk in 2007 to create an artifical reef. Saul Steinberg

created a mural for each of American Export Lines' "Four Aces."

In an extraordinary bit of luck, a mural by Saul Steinberg was saved as the USTS Texas Clipper, formerly American Export's Excambion, was being readied to end her days as an artificial reef off the coast of Texas.

To conclude, I will venture to guess as the bulk of America's post war liners changed hands, and as new owners imposed their decor, piece by piece, the original furnishings disappeared and may never be completely tracked down. Now I'm not about to promise an Indiana Jones-type search, but it would be neat if some of these works -- great examples of mid-century modern art -- were still hanging somewhere, their observers unaware of the heritage.

The Big Ship

*Update (10 January)*  
The addition of two renderings of the renovation with explanatory text.

I referenced the ss United States in an earlier post (Won't you let me take you on a sea cruise?). These photos are from a trip to Newport News, Virginia I took in 1990. It was my first experience with a 35mm camera, one or two rolls didn't develop due to my ineptitude, but I am happy with the results I did achieve. A lot of happy accidents.

The sun is just hidden by the foremost tip of the bow. I couldn't have planned it better if I tried.

This is roughly two-thirds of her 990 foot length. The stacks are so massive. All aluminum; they just need a sandblasting and they'd be as good as new. The faint splotches of green are parts of the original primer coat from 1952.
Looking aft. The streaks along the hull are a little disconcerting. However, she was built to such exacting specifications, it was recently stated the rivets in her fuel tanks look six months old (not bad for being built in 1952), and most of her hull is at 92% of its original thickness.

She starts with a fine tip at the bow, and ends with another fine point at the stern. Her original home port of New York was painted over at this point and "Seattle" put on. Below are renderings from July 1980 of the proposed renovation. I understand the futuristic leanings to bring her up to date, but egad. Most of the Promenade Deck would be "preserved" however I've seen sketches of the color schemes. Late '70s/early '80s browns. Ugh.

Just aft of the Grand Ballroom -- formerly the First Class Ballroom -- were the Restaurant on the port side and the "Navajo" Lounge on the starboard. Those spaces would have been completely reconfigured.

 

In this rendering of the aft stack, you can see the tricked out fins and a completely rebuilt Bridge Deck with the proposed running track on top.

 

A year after this trip, in 1991, she was sold on the courthouse steps for back rent. A few months after that, her new owner had her towed to Europe for asbestos removal. Then back across the Atlantic to Philadelphia where she sits today. Norwegian Cruise Line is the current owner, but she's for sale.

I do hope for her preservation. The United States is a testament to American design and engineering. Several organizations are working like mad to prevent her scrapping. While it would be a stretch (yet awesome) to see her sail again, I'd be fine with a floating museum in the lines of the aircraft carrier Intrepid in New York.

She's been gutted save for the engine spaces, so whoever does the work has a blank canvas. I'd like to see her First Class public areas rebuilt, and if the original pieces can't be bought back, remake them. Enough space for 300-400 "passengers" and perhaps some condos. A museum in the lower areas. Former cabin spaces could be used to replicate cabins from famous ships, like Titanic, Normandie, Queen Mary, although the primary focus should be more on American passenger ships such as Leviathan, Manhattan, America. So many possibilities. But her original exterior lines should not be touched.

Damn it, we were able to save the Queen Mary, why not the United States?