A perfect life. That's what Wendy called it when we heard the news.
On one wall of her studio there hangs a photograph. In it a pixie-ish little white-haired man sits behind a big, dark desk, a glass of orange juice at hand to one side, hanging plants all around. The man is reading a magazine, and there is a delighted look in his face. The magazine is Abenteuer in der Elfenwelt, which is the German edition of Elfquest, and the man's name is Remain de Tirtoff, better known to the world since 1912 as Erté.
Even if you do not know the name, you probably have seen some of Erté's work; his graphics and sculptures and other objets d'art can be found in many galleries. You certainly have seen the results of his artistic influence, for although he disdained to accept the title, he has been called "The Father of Art Deco."
Actually, Erté's bold and sensuous style was well established many years before the dawn of the Art Deco period; proper tribute would acknowledge his work as bridging Art Nouveau as well as Deco. A complete listing of the accomplishments of his 80-year career would run to many pages, and would include hundreds of covers and illustrations for Harper's Bazaar, costumes and scenery for Broadway plays, Hollywood movies, opera houses and the Folies Bergère, and the design of every sort of article-- fabrics, posters, jewelry, furniture, clothes, window displays, residences, scupture...
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe once wrote the following lines:
"Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it.
"Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it."
Erté was 80 years old when he decided, probably on some level just for the heck of it, to start sculpting and casting in bronze; these figurines are some of his most sensuous work. In the flowing drapery of Le Masque or the sly smile of La Jalousie can be found more than a little of proud, statuesque Winnowill, and Wendy has always said that Erté is the elves' spiritual grandpa. The photo whispers, "Full circle..."
But I didn't set out to write another biography of either artist. My purpose is a little angrier than that.
I was away on business when Erté died on April 20 of this year at age 97. I heard the news indirectly, when one of the many galleries who sell his works left a message on my answering machine: "Erté passed away on Friday, and we just wanted you to be able to take advantage of our prices before the word gets out..."
This is how we treat artists-- if we're not ignoring them, that is. Time magazine gave Erté's life and accomplishments a single sentence in its "Milestones" section. Some senator got a good couple of column-inches. Haven't seen Newsweek yet.
This is not a point that bears hammering in very well. Either by now you know what it is I'm saying, or you never will. The people who put their vision, their fears, their inner demons or pleasures out for the world to see deserve better than our culture has given them. Erté dreamed it, and began it, without regard to age. He did what he wanted to do-- what Wendy called a perfect life--and influenced generations of artists, and was glossed over in death.
Maybe we should think about an art studio out in that Iowa cornfield, too. "If you build it..."
I'd thought to write here about vainglory
and the very first real-life comic book
supervillain I ever read about, when I was 8
years old. Maybe next time. See you in 60!
Richard
Welcome to the "Elf-Addressed" column. This is where we will print your letters of comment... when we receive them! So write to us, at the address given above. And in the meantime, we hope you enjoy this bit of extra art. It is an earlier idea for the cover of this first issue.
[TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: I'm not sure we've seen this image reprinted anywhere else. --MK]