Below are five more covers of College Humor magazine with art by Rolf Armstrong. During the 1920s and 1930s, Armstrong made his income illustrating sheet music covers and magazines, and later he became known as a portraitist, painting likenesses of Mary Pickford, Greta Garbo, and Boris Karloff, among others. He also worked in advertising for RCA, and was a sought after calendar artist. We’ll have more from him soon, and you can see our previous post of five College Humor covers here.  

 

Above is a photo of the aftermath of the Cocoanut Grove fire of 1942. Its appearance belies the scope of the disaster that took place there. The Cocoanut Grove had been founded as an illegal speakeasy and, after the 1933 repeal of Prohibition, became Boston’s trendiest nightspot. It consisted of several properties that had been consolidated into one, and was a labyrinth of tropical-themed bars, lounges, and dining rooms, complete with a famous “rolling roof” that allowed patrons to dance under the stars during warm summer nights. The club’s cobbled together construction meant there were many points of egress, but owner Barnet “Barney” Welansky was preoccupied with the possibility of people using these to dash without paying their checks, and had hidden some exits behind curtains, locked others, boarded up a plate glass window, and bricked over an emergency exit.

About 10:15 p.m. one frigid November night a fire started for the most banal of reasons. A soldier in the Melody Lounge, which was in the basement, had either loosened or removed a light bulb in an artificial palm tree to create the privacy he desired in order to make out with his date. A busboy was ordered to replace or tighten it. He climbed onto a chair and lit a match so he could see, very likely using one from a matchbook like the one at right. Moments later the canopy of artificial palm fronds overhead caught fire. Whether it was the match or the light bulb that started the blaze nobody ever figured out for sure, though the busboy unambiguously blamed himself and the match.

Above, five covers of the American humor magazine College Humor, which ran from the 1920s to 1940s and counted among its contributors Robert Benchley, Groucho Marx, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Zelda Fitzgerald, and many other leading literary personalities of the age. This group, with covers by pin-up artist Rolf Armstrong, appeared between 1928 and 1930. 

Above is the cover of Rufus King's 1945 mystery The Deadly Dove, which isn't a particularly notable book, except that it demonstrates one of the time-honored motifs in pulp cover art—the woman fighting for her life. We've cobbled together a small collection of such covers, with art by Robert Hilbert, Robert Stanley, and others.

We're curious, but unfortunately have no way of knowing, how readers reacted to these depictions when they first hit newsstands. There are probably some examinations of that question out there somewhere, but not in a place where we can find them. To our contemporary eyes, though, some of these images seem brutal to the extent that if someone actually saw us holding one in a store, we'd be like, "Oh this? Not mine. No, no, no. Found this uh, on the floor and was just, er, putting it back on the shelf. No, I was actually buying this copy of Genital Warts and U."

Okay, maybe that's a bit of an overstatement. You get the point, though. But violent or not, there's no denying the artistry on display on these covers. Thanks to various Flickr groups for some of these, by the way. In other news, that long delayed internet installation is so close we can almost taste it. How much you wanna bet it all fails spectacularly?

Sad news just off the wire—unique, prolific, and influential French illustrator Jean Giraud has died aged 73 after a long battle with cancer. Giraud broke onto the art scene in 1965, won his first awards by 1973, and by 1975 had adopted the pseudonym Moebius and developed into a graphic arts master. He worked in the comics medium quite a bit as both a writer and artist, and in addition to nine Marvel/Epic graphic novels, and work on longrunning Marvel characters like the Silver Surfer, was also a regular in the pages of the seminal French sci-fi magazine Métal Hurlant—known in the U.S. as Heavy Metal. Aside from all that, he also worked extensively in motion picture production design, and his efforts helped shape films such as Alien, Willow, Tron and The Fifth Element. It’s been a rough week for the art world—Ralph McQuarrie died less than a week ago. We’ve gathered up a few Giraud/Moebius pieces below so those who don’t know this master can get a sense of his singular style. 

We ran across a rare, Japanese-issued James Bond theme song collection and decided to steal a few photos because inside was this brilliant poster of George Lazenby by Frank McCarthy. Lazenby took over the Bond role for 1969’s On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, in which the character got married only to see his new wife gunned down at film’s end. We’ve been involved in some spirited debates about where Lazenby fits in the Bond pantheon—some of his defenders even say he was the best Bond. We wouldn’t go that far, but he did have one of the best theme songs, Louis Armstrong’s “We Have All the Time in the World,” which opens this compilation. Ironically, Lazenby didn’t have much time—United Artists booted him out of the Bond role the next year when Sean Connery returned to film Diamonds Are Forever. If you haven’t seen On Her Majesty’s Secret Service we recommend it. And you can listen to “We Have All the Time in the World” here.

Above is 1953’s Beyond the Law by Edward D. Radin, an author who used several pseudonyms to write a series of true crime books, the most famous of which was probably Lizzie Borden: The Untold Story. In that one he proposed that Clarice Blackburn was the murderer, and his theory about the crime was later adapted for a 1961 episode of the television show Armstrong Circle Theater. Beyond the Law is a collection of slightly more prosaic criminal case studies, but the Rafael DeSoto cover art is just sublime, so we had to share it.

You’d never put blue, orange and yellow together in an outfit, but those colors coordinate nicely on this Uncensored from August 1971. The magazine had launched in 1953 and become a heavy hitter in the tabloid market by the end of the decade, but by now was running on fumes. However, that didn’t stop it from taking swipes at big targets—in this case England’s royal family in the person of Princess Margaret, Countess of Snowdon.

Born Margaret Rose, the princess had a rebellious spirit and had married late—at age twenty-nine—to a commoner named Anthony Armstrong-Jones. Jones was a photographer, and if you’re going to slander a photographer, of course you call him a pornographer. There’s no evidence Jones—who became Lord Snowdon—was head of a smut ring, as Uncensored claims, but he did shoot his share of nudes, like the image of Gloria Higdon below, dating from 1959.

His marriage to Princess Margaret was known to be on shaky ground, and by the time the above cover appeared, the couple were leading separate lives. Margaret indulged in a series of indiscreet affairs, and had unconfirmed liaisons with the likes of Mick Jagger, David Niven, and Peter Sellers. Snowdon, on the other hand, became a royal favorite, shooting official portraits for the Queen and other family members.

Lord Snowdon and his wife finally divorced in 1978, and Princess Margaret died at the relatively early age of seventy-two after many years of drinking and consuming prescription drugs. We may actually revisit her at some point—her life reads like just the sort of melodrama we're interested in here. 

Assorted Mexican lobby cards featuring famous and not-so-famous monsters. These films were released in English as Dracula’s Lake, Hideous Sun Demon, Orlak the Hell of Frankenstein, The Green Hell, The Phantom from 10,000 Leagues, Lycanthropus, Neutron Versus the Karate Assassins, Cat People, Attack of the Giant Leeches, The Monster Walks, Zombie Lake, The She-Wolf, and Valley of the Zombies.     

Spies with numerical identities proliferated like mad during the ’60s, as studios tried and failed to compete with Sean Connery’s ultracool 007. But even if most of the resulting films were bad, some of the promo art was striking. Here are fifteen great posters featuring various numbered and lettered pretenders to Bond's throne.