Acquired this 1930s bookplate design--it's printed on a large piece of card stock--at a shop on one of the main canals several years ago. Same place I first saw the hipster-ramshackle wooden furniture of Piet Hein Eek.
Perhaps on some other planet? Sir Walter Scott wore the Waverlys. I myself find it hard to decide between the Modiste and Cocaroo No. 9. Leaning toward the Modiste, since I already have Cocaroo Nos. 1-8.
In the century-and-a-half-old battle between sitter and camera, natural elegance wins.
Great things: the subject's intransigence; the near-bonnet-like hat; the strange curly shape, like a foreshortened apostrophe, on the cloth bench cover in the right-hand corner; the pale blue oxidation patches.
'As for the mighty Brunhilde, she remains monstrous, dream-like, and magnificent--a towering goddess fully worthy of her Valkyrie-crown, even when she is standing in what looks like her best friend's shabby bourgeois parlor.'
. . . by way of Buenos Aires. One of several childrens' fancy-dress portraits (from the 1920s, 1930s, 1940s) I've acquired from an Argentinian dealer. The subjects, as here, supremely calm and self-possessed in the manner of their posing.
....but who's the other guy? The first presidential election I should conceivably be able to remember --but I don't. Kennedy -Nixon in 1960, however: I was all over it.
A slightly blurry but memorable tintype--the kid has strange energy, a lot of lower-body authority. The bow and center part likewise fine, and the odd contrast between the hands--one large and decisive, the other seemingly withered, fuzzed out--makes one lean into the tin surface to see more.
For when they want something more than your trampoline act.
Francis & Day--a well-known early 20th-century songbook and sheet music publisher, located at 138-40 Charing Cross Road. To judge from photos on Google Earth, a Pret à Manger seems to have taken over at that address now.