L and XL Art

One of our pet peeves is the reckless abuse of scale in art. A lot of artists make their work just big enough to get into the elevators on Park Avenue. On the other hand, there are a lot of artists who make their work just big enough to get into the garage doors at Gagosian Chelsea.

The Kaws show at Mary Boone immediately gave us a bad feeling. We were amicably introduced to his “catchphrase” characters. They stood 16 feet tall but were sad and dejected. Maybe they just realized that they were being used by their creator to establish himself as a serious artist. Which is what we think he is. But is this the best way to go about it? Obviously, they were to be purchased by a museum or some large developer. We felt sorry for them. They were being abused and there was nothing we could do about it.

There is a saying artists use, “If you can’t make it good, make it big.” The line between creating XL Art for authentic reasons and creating XL Art for bombastic reasons isn’t thin. The line is as wide as a Julian Schnabel’s waist.

Thomas McManus is a writer and artist in New York City.

Stork Club Secrets

 

My landlord, Mr. Ed, was 99 years old.  As far as anyone could tell, he subsisted entirely on cherry red LifeSavers. Most would fall between his armchair, which smelled like a dumpster, and his khakis where they would adhere in a row of sticky red globs. Children and some unkind adults would point fingers and laugh as he plodded down the street to the local C'Town market.  He seemed to cotton to me as I found it relaxing to sit and drink Rob Roys while listening to his endless tales. One was about procuring an original Van Gogh painted plate at a movie give-away in the 1930's.  It did not look like a Van Gogh.  

The other item he liked to talk about was an ashtray from the Stork Club where he was once a regular.  Mr. Ed figured out the owner's secret sign language as he table hopped around the club.  One evening the owner said he could take an ashtray home with him. This story held more interest for me. I coveted said ashtray. In a moment of weakness, and as I clearly was tenant of the month, Mr. Ed sold it to me for $15. As it turns out Stork Club owner Sherman Billingsley did indeed keep control of the action at the club through a series of hand signals to his help. True story. I wonder now about the Van Gogh plate.

The Epicenter of Un-Expressionism: N 40'45' by W 73' 58'

"Content is a glimpse of something, an encounter like a flash. It's very tiny - very tiny, content."

- Willem de Kooning

We love going to MOMA. What we love best is visiting the lonely and neglected paintings. They seem to need company. Particularly, if one is a work of art that completely changed the art world.

Meanwhile, at the Rene Magritte show on the 5th floor, one had to stand in line for an hour. Nonsense!

We walked down a floor to the Duchamp corner to see “Three Standard Stoppages”.

And here it is. Isolated. Ignored. We can’t believe it was painted in 1914. One of our group dropped to their knees crying out, “We are not worthy.” Alarmed tourists on their way to the Margritte show looked over “Why are these guys slobbering all over this old subway map painting? Should we call a guard?"

We start up a conversation with the piece. On closer examination we realize that a version of a Fauvist painting  (Villon or Duchamp?)  “Young Girl and Man in Spring” was painted over. Maybe there is a cross in the painting also. The old work is turned on its side, scraped down. Defaced. Two black bands frame it as if in a shroud.

Over this tomb Duchamp drops the neutron bomb of modernity. A diagram (what appears to be a golf course) is painted on the surface. Let's take a closer look. There is a grid drawn over the painting in pencil. We think they were lines tracing strings randomly thrown tossed on the canvas.

What gives? What’s the subject matter? Is this a metaphor for something? Or is it just decoration? What is this guy trying to express?

All of these questions are irrelevant.

You see this is the first work of art where an artist tried to un-express himself. In other words, it was created solely by chance, a methodology that subverts the usual modus operandi of painting. “Three Standard Stoppages” is to painting what quantum mechanics is to classical physics.

It is born in an era when science realized that God does play with dice.

“Three Standard Stoppages” is Part 2 of a trilogy. It is sandwiched between “Three Large Stoppages” and the “Large Glass”. This middle child’s offspring were named Process, Conceptual, Minimal and Pop Art. This is the painting Jasper Johns doesn’t want you to know about.

We complained to the curator that MOMA shouldn’t show paintings that are still wet. She just looked at us.

Tom McManus is a writer and artist in NYC.

Winning the Fat Lady

Here's Dotty, the tattoo artist. We have always been fascinated with the smiling big woman in the old photos.  One of her designs depicted a woman with butterfly wings floating as if in liberation.  She also had her day with the classic "Put her ol' foot through me heart, matey"  tattoo image.  Could this have been in sympathy for Major Mite? In 1942, Dainty Dotty, who would be Owen Jensen's future wife, worked with Major Mite (world's smallest man) at the Ringling Brothers Circus. Although they were on the circuit together, "America's Greatest Individual Attraction" apparently never won over the big lady. Major Mite was still with Ringling throughout the 1940's until dejected, he slumped back to Portland Oregon to be near his family.
More of this story has to yet be uncovered. Its hard to say if Dainty Dotty knew Owen Jensen in 1942. He was in traveling back and forth between Norfolk, VA and Michigan, were she she met him. By 1944, she was working at the Palace of Wonders in Detroit as a "fat gal." She probably grew tired of folks pointing at her and laughing. Rightly so. This would seem to be a tough road to go down. She might have watched the dapper tattooist and thought this looked a little more genteel than her current employment. In 1945, Dot and Owen married, loaded up the black, five window Ford coupe and joined the great migration for the sunshine state, California. 
Major Mite letterhead with tattoo eagle drawing on back.  
Keep tuned for more on Dotty. Thanks to Carmen Nyssen for her research.

Fab Modern Sixties

We felt like we were back in the fab sixties but better!  Wearing our full access backstage passes, we not only knew the band but the light show guy as well. Just how groovy is that?  Downtown Woodstock people were rushing in off the street grabbing each other by their jacket lapels to hear and see this cool all enveloping multi-media event. Keep an eye on these guys!

 

Richard Serra, Bully with a Beret

Dropping by the Richard Serra show at Gagosian brought to mind a Vanity Fair article. It compiled a list of the top Six Artists alive today.

Here are the results: 

      The Most-Voted-for Artists

  • Gerhard Richter: 24 votes
  • Jasper Johns: 20 votes
  • Richard Serra: 19 votes
  • Bruce Nauman: 17 votes
  • Cindy Sherman: 12 votes
  • Ellsworth Kelly: 10 votes. 

Serra’s work, 7 Plates, 6 Angles, summed up our gallery experience. The piece bossed us around just like a high school class bully. “Go here!” it demanded. “No, go over there!” “Get outta my way!” It was just itching for an excuse to do some bodily harm.

Vanity Fair reported that Richard Serra voted for himself. Which makes sense. 7 Plates, 6 Angles, has a blustery self-confidence.

After pussyfooting around the work for a while we made a beeline for the door. The sculpture shouted after us, “Hell, yah, I am gonna vote for myself!”

Artworld Confidential welcomes the writer and artist Tom McManus.

Balthus Paints Lolita

“I am thinking of aurochs and angels, the secret of durable pigments, prophetic sonnets, the refuge of art. And this is the only immortality you and I may share, my Lolita.” –Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita (1955)

 Entering the Balthus show at the Met we were rudely confronted by a sign. It warned us that this exhibition may be disturbing to some viewers. But what we witnessed instead were eager patrons lusting over a group of exquisite paintings. The object of their desire? Balthus’s erogenous paint handling.

 Now here is an artist who seduces by brush. In this drawing room, Old Master gazes longingly at Modern. This is where burnt umber, venetian red and vermillion are sexualized. Where dry brush plays voyeur to washy underpainting. It is as if Corot or Degas were working in the midst of a Post Freudian world.

 “Yes”, we say. “Yes.”

Tom McManus is a writer and artist working in New York City. 

Baa Baa Gas Station

We saw a sheep installation at a Chelsea gas station but first we should mention David Ryan’s show at Galerie Richard. It was funny because the gallery typist, who turned out to be the director, started waxing on about how the artists' work concerned layers of dreams stacked up against other layers of dreams. "Do you like to dream?" he asked us with a loopy grin. We all love the bullshit gallery people dispense. Anyway, the work was like Jean Arp on acid with brightly colored panels that look like they were made with one of those vacuum pump toy sets you had as a little kid that were made by Kenner or somebody like that. Some useful information we did find out was that Ryan first draws his work in Illustrator ( a computer program) and then has it constructed out of a high density plastic material.The sides of the work are layered and the whole work acts like a puzzle piece like in the game Jango. His titles are wacky with coordinates of places on earth and cryptic references to who knows what.


Then we walked around the corner and to see the gas station that used to be on 9th avenue and 24th street. We always hate gas stations in Manhattan because they charge these high prices, they don’t ever clean your windshield and you have to pay through tiny irregular hole in a scarred, thick plastic window. It was night by the time we turned the corner.The gas station was well lit even though it seemed totally abandoned. Surprise! Now the gas pumps are surrounded by rolling hills and a sheep farm. Grazing sheep look out in a curious manner. "You looking at me, pal?” A white fence encloses the bucolic scene protecting the artwork from both circling taxis and a curious public. We were looking for a gallery or museum guard but none was to be found. If this was  installed in a gallery we would have just passed by. Being out in public seems to do the trick and makes it the project so much more interesting. The installation is the work of Michael Shvo and the Paul Kasmin Gallery. Go see it. But fill up beforehand.

Artworld Confidential welcomes the writer and artist Tom McManus.

Sailor Jerry Would Be Rolling In His Grave

The Tattoo artists are rolling in their graves

A few decades ago, tattoos used to be a sign you were a degenerate. They used to be reserved for people in gangs or bikers. Sure, there was the acceptable army or navy tattoo, or maybe that one crazy picture you got on your back that one drunk night; but now they are much more commonplace.

As long as there isn’t a giant skull on your neck, tattoos have really been accepted into society. Just look at shows like “Ink Master” on cable T.V. and the starlets like Angelina Jolie.

Maybe they have become too commonplace. Tattoo artists like Sailor Jerry were true masters of the art, famous for their legendary work and pioneering the field. Now you see Sailor Jerry Rum ads all over the place. Soccer moms are wearing Ed Hardy (who was Jerry’s protégé) T-shirts emblazoned with rhinestone and sparkles.

(Banned from clubs everywhere)

 

Sailor Jerry had set up shop in the red-light district of Honolulu, and focused his business on hard-drinking and brawling sailors. He famously told the Hawaii Five-O television producers to take a hike when they wanted to film him in a segment. 

(The Real Sailor Jerry)

It’s ironic how these tattoos have invaded pop-culture now. Sailor Jerry would be rolling in his grave. That’s why it’s even more interesting to have the real story behind these artists at Lift Trucks. Log on and learn the real story about these guys from our site: http://ltproject.com/ltproject/TattooGallery.html and Tattoo Archives from our friend Chuck Eldridge http://tattooarchive.com/

Nighthawks

"When there is a Hopper in the room, that's what you look at."  Elise, the charismatic docent, told us so. A good one pulls us in like a magnet. 


You can't turn away from one of the excellent ones.  Nighthawks is a prime example, especially if you see it in person. It is electrifying. Four characters are trapped like insects under a florescent lit bell jar at night. There is no door in, Elise's keen observations, again. Only one door out to the kitchen and you sure don't want to open that one.

His work must have looked very slow in contrast to the Pollock's and De Kooning’s (the one AbEx guy who's work Hopper liked) screamed down fourlane blacktops in the 50's.  Hopper was the anti "action painter".  Nothing was random, nothing was accidental. Many studies and drawings paved the way. As he evolved he slowly took everything out of the painting. Even people. You are the viewer and part of the scene. He blazed the trail for minimalists. Guys like Dan Flavin,  Donald Judd and James Turrell, all the minimalists went to school on his paintings. Hopper's words were few.

A description of the painting would read “a couple and a man being served at a diner”. Famous writers like Joyce Carol Oates have written tales on the picture alone. It's a voyeuristic view into a life many of us have faced.

 

You begin to wonder what the couple is doing in the dinner. They probably aren't on a happy date; it's the wee hours of the night and they are in a deserted empty dinner. The other man is there alone with a coffee with his head down. Who knows what bad things he had done that night?

 

Milton Quon at 100 with Ed Ruscha

Legendary Disney Animator Milton Quon, who celebrates his 100th birthday today, began at the Walt Disney Studios working as an inbetweener on Fantasia, and later worked as a first assistant animator on Dumbo before creating a wealth of artwork for the Studio’s publicity department.

Milton working on publicity artwork for Make Mine Music.

Known for his breathtaking watercolor paintings, his freelance career spanned decades, and he became a highly successful publicity artist and acclaimed art director. Now retired, Milton has enjoyed painting, drawing, travelling, and occasional work as a film and television extra. Milton is enjoying his milestone birthday today with family in Southern California, including his son Mike, who is also an artist.

One of Milton’s drawings for the “Nutcracker Suite” sequence of Fantasia.

 

Cars at MoMA

As you know, MoMA has one of the greatest and well-known collections of modern art in the world. Its recent exhibits include Hopper and O’Keefe’s best pieces. So we were surprised to learn that one of the pieces on exhibit was currently sitting at Lift Trucks. No, we didn’t find a Picasso on Ebay, but we do have a 1943 Ford truck before they were called “jeep”.  MoMA has a military 1950’s Willys-Overland Jeep. Essentially the same vehicle.

Most people are pleasantly surprised to hear that the MoMA has cars on exhibit. They have so many fantastic and unique pieces, why include something that we see and use every day? Sure, there are gems like the 1963 Jaguar E-type and a stunning red 1946 Cisitalia, but these you would expect to see at a car show, not an art museum. Even more puzzling is the inclusion of a 2002 Smart Car and a VW Beetle. Also, compared to the thousands of paintings and drawings, they have 6 cars in total.

According to the curator, Peter Reed, “Automobiles are among the most significant inventions of industrial civilization. Each of the six cars in MoMA’s collection is an innovative, influential design. Historically, aesthetics and speed have been primary concerns. Today, we are no less concerned with aesthetics but recognize other compelling issues in personal transportation including affordability and efficiency.” Cars are a part of everyday life, but we can still find art in them. Even a simple Honda Civic has elements of design to it; otherwise we would all be driving the same box on wheels. It’s amazing how many different styles of vehicles are on the road at once.

The jeep is the most unique piece of the group though. The whole exhibit shows how a car is about more than just getting from point A to B, but this car is designed for just that. While the Jaguar might have sleek curves, and the beetle possesses an iconic design, the Jeep is built for pure efficiency. Here you see a car literally made for war, where every inch of the car is built for the most practical and tactical reasons. Those iconic headlights? Made that way so they could be flipped around to see the engine when you are fixing the car in combat. That cool looking grill that you still see today wasn’t an artist’s design, it was the result of hundreds of tests to get the most efficient airflow to the engine.

We also have the same Jeep sitting at Lift Trucks Project right now. We saw it driving around town for years, and finally got the retired fire chief to sell it. It was sitting in a dusty old garage, complete with the manuals, shovels, and a replica gun attatchment. Be sure to stop by and check it out.

As with most good exhibits it makes you think. It makes you think about what you are driving next time you’re on the freeway. In the family SUV.  

 

Here are some photos of our Jeep, currently being restored:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On Sargent

What do we think of Sargent?  A turn of the century court painter pandering to rich guys wives with languid eyes flopped out on sumptuous devons? Shall we toss Sargent in the art-closet with Bouguereau and Fragonard?

Well, yes and no. A tough call, as the stunning collection recently shown at the Brooklyn Museum, now  traveling to Boston shows us. It just has very little to do with how we look at work now. There are little if any traces of modernism. Even though some of the Venetian buildings were scrappy, they are antique and from the old world. Milton Avery, Charles Sheeler and others were painting modern down trodden, industrial buildings, hard as nails railroad tracks that somehow look modern to us. Even if Sargent is more skilled with a brush, it's the subjects that sometimes  draw the life out of a room. One of his best is a simple portrait of a tramp.

A painting can be beautiful and well done, but it needs to make some sort of connection with the audience. Now, we aren’t saying that every piece of art has to be a working stiff in a garage. Take a look at Munch’s The Scream, from basically the same time period. It is a painting we can relate to in the modern day; the fear and raw emotion is something everybody experiences.

 

On the other hand, watercolor at this level is a lost art. Some of the duck stamp crowd or western nostalgia artists might come close. But now, for the most part, it's a skill like making Meissen china. Gone. These almost seem like Ralph Lauren ads for the Victorian set.

The research is phenomenal. Our friend Toni Owen, Senior Paper Conservator, graciously led us through the show. There are many charts and photos showing color field x-ray analysis of what particular pignments went where. Cobalts here show as reds and the ultramarines come up as white. Tiny differences that make boats float in canals and rocks sizzle in the desert sun. Sargent is a master at this without parallel.  All said, it's a portrait of a time. A documentation of a way of life when people took steamers and the Orient Express. These pieces are almost like a medieval tapestry show; skills that are in a historic vein rather than modern art.

He's a difficult guy as he made a ton of money. Museums bought entire watercolor shows out from the gallery. He did quite well, thank you.  But you wish you could go back, grab him by the collar and say look, look at this Van Gogh!

Enough Arabs, society swells and Venetian scenes. Put your brush in your left hand, turn the canvas upside down and cut loose.

Someday My Prince Will Come & A Well Lit Greyhound Station

Paul McCarthy is just one twisted dude. Sorry. We all love Walt Disney and really do not have any problems with his vision of America and storytelling. How many Angelinos get teary eyed reminising about sneaking onto Disneyland's Tom Sawyer Island and having a smoke back in the day?  Rite of passage. Huck Finn would have been proud.

So when McCarthy twists our beloved and classic wholesome tales into a huge shit fest it's a little upsetting. But ultimately very funny. Here's a nude and beautiful (bulbous nose notwithstanding) Snow White, on a fourposter bed slowly stretching. Woken up by guess what? Not a Handsome Prince's kiss but 7 little m..f..ckrs whacking off.  Funny. Very Funny. TBS Funny. 
Then she's cleaning the floor Cinderella style after an awful drunken parents party gone mad with pizza boxes, spilled vodka bottles and bathroom mistakes everywhere. Uncle Johnny impaled on a broomstick in the rec-room? Well, he did kind of deserve it, really. The gift shop has a vacuum cleaner abandoned in miduse, a lot of Disney dolls re-purposed with Paul Walt signatures on them. We like this idea much better than anything Jeff Koons has ever manufactured. The show sticks with you like gum on your shoe

The sets are made up of huge colorful flowers, jungle overgrowth, redwood pathways and neat 50's lighting on a random San Fernando Valley tract home. Absolutely georgeous. He took over the entire 67th St Armory on Park. Way to go, Paul McCarthy!

Now for Dullsville U.S.A. The Guggenheim take over by James Turrell is another grand idea. We all love James Turrell for the spiritual, time sensitive light shows. He has an amazing way with subtle light changes much like the aurora borealis. Mesmorizing really. The desert sky creeping over with rose to evening satin blue/purples.
But standing in the Guggenheim rotunda, why do we feel we are in a Greyhound Station in Tucson? The only difference here is we are missing the great feeling of relief when our bus finally pulls in.
Yes, you do meet the nicest people on a bus. But watch out for your stuff when you get up to go to the lavatory. Guaranteed, some one will mess with your backpack left on the seat. No airplane trip here.
Save the energy going through the Guggenheim rabbit warren upstairs. Just dumb squares of light in the corners of the rooms. Very boring. 
Just because you can command the entire Guggenheim exhibit space, doesn't mean you should.  Nobody has ever tamed a Frank Lloyd Wright building. He famously hated art and especially disliked sculpture. He said something like "...sculpture is the stuff you bump into when you step back to look at bad paintings" Architecture again triumphs over art.

 The Guggenheim.

Purple Passion at Woodstock

By the time we got to Woodstock and walked into the Artists Association and Museum, we really needed a cup of coffee. My friend and art colleague Carl Van Brunt invited me to judge an exhibit at the legendary art space,  home to Philip Guston and George Bellows. Got a cup of mud across the street where we heard the most interesting story from Roger, one of the art guys associated with exhibit. 

Get this, he actually travelled on the Magic Bus with Ken Kesey and the Merry Pranksters! And as a kid while working at a job near Woodstock, the grooviest event in music history, he jumped the fence and got to see the whole show.  Very cool. This tale emerged as we waited 15 at the coffee shop take out counter. Hey you, where's our order?  "Ooops, I forgot"   said the beaming young lady, apparently distracted while taking photos of some fascinating item stuck on the restaurant wall.

The space was a cacophony of paintings, resting on tables and leaning against walls in the four rooms. Over 90 to be sifted down to a manageable number of 35 or so.  The nice thing was that as an out of towner, I did not recognize anyone. The kindly staff just laughed when asked " Is there anyone we should toss as they may be a great artist but just a total dick?"  Alas, no c-note bribes discretely taped on the stretchers for the esteemed judge. 

A wide range of pieces:  two works by separate artists combined to make a story about a kid fishing startled by a nude woman posing in a forest photo, a tiny realistic painting of clouds coupled with the same billowy cloud forms painted in wild abstracts. A painting of two realistic eggs next to the same shapes blown up in a huge black & white Franz Kline like gestural oil. A theme emerged about realism moving one step further. 

Another piece employed Purple Passion soda cans, maybe the first time ever?  A surprising amount of soft and extremely well put together abstracts.  Some very strong from-the-gut type abstracts, the kind you don't see anymore. The kind we don't think artists could paint anymore. But then we have all been overwhelmed by the relentless art reviews of the usual art superstars in Chelsea galleries. 

The point that really comes across is that these artists are all delightfully enjoying the process of painting. "The opposite of Jeff Koons." Carl Van Brunt proffered. And he is right. All that creatively bankrupt art-made-by-art-assistants junk really is the antithesis of art. Hire someone else to do the art piece? Why bother to do it at all? That's what hits like a lighting bolt. These artists love what they are doing. It means something. And since most are not in big commercial galleries, you can bet that their dealers are not telling them what to paint.

So pull the canvas tarp off the VW micro bus, take the trip up the road and see the show. Feel again the glorious, true and righteous power of painting. This is why we like art. And the area is super groovy. I will bet you a cup of joe you come home not only with a real estate brochure but tuned in, turned on, and ready to go make some art. 

Phillip Guston (1913 - 1980). My Coffee Cup, 1973. Oil on hardboard. WAAM Permanent Collection, Gift of Mr. and Mrs. Karl E. Fortess. Photo of Carl Van Brunt. 

The show runs through August 18. The Gallery is open 12 - 5 Sunday, Monday, Thursday and 12-6 Friday and Saturday (closed Tuesday and Wednesday). 


http://www.woodstockart.org/

Kustom Kulture with Chris Machin

From the boiling, nitro-burning, pedal to the metal cauldron of 1950's-60's Southern California Hot Rod culture, gear heads and artists in the inland empire started building and racing rat rods morphing into the movement known today as Kustom Kulture.


Embodied by the likes of George Barris, Ed "Big Daddy" Roth, Von Dutch and today the torch carried on by Robert Williams.

We at Lift Trucks are proud to present the works of Chris Machin. Steeped in pin striping, Tiki god carvings, Moon Equipment eyes, Mr. Horsepower (Woody Woodpecker with a cigar) and Rat Fink, Chris attacks everything he can get his hands on from Philco Predicta Television sets to wheel alignment lights, to car jacks, acetlyne burners and tool boxes.

Only somebody like Chris could transform a water fountain into a unique lamp, or take a shopping cart and make it a hot-rod bike. Nothing is off limits. His daily rides are usually brush painted wonders. The latest, a 66 Pontiac Bonneville station wagon, got the full treatment of striping to decals to a lit up monster waving arms as turn signals.

He is what’s known as an “outsider artist”. He is self-taught and his art certainly isn’t traditional. 

You definitely can't miss Mr. Machin coming down the road.

You also can't miss the windows exhibit driving by New York's first and only Drive by Gallery.

How is that gallery going? Great, thanks for asking. Thousands cruise by every day.

Flames

 1. New Directions in painting . Artist Tom Christopher and hot rod pinstriper Chip Welsh work on a painting incorporating the Empire state building, pin up girls, femme fatals,  the classic wolf call all swirling about the flames and Mexican day of the dead skulls in an underworld painted with home depot blackboard paint. Melding Hot Rod Kar Kulture with classic tattoo symbolic imagery and New York City. Another sap walks off circled by a flame on girl and a Dear John Letter held dear in a swallows beak.  These are interesting says critic Armardo Guiterez. I don't think these guys have any idea what the painting will look like when finished. Seems like an exciting way to work.'

The mystery box

Many of our items at lift trucks have an interesting story to tell, whether it is a “Jesus Saves” sign from a glue-sniffer in a flophouse (See it here), or a shoebox with multiple price listings (See it here) . However, one item we have still remains a complete mystery. This teller box dates to around the 20’s, but its purpose stumps even the LTP experts.

 

At first it seemed like a standard salesman model. Salesmen would travel around with scale models of fireplaces, bathtubs, etc., so they could show what they where selling (without actually carrying around a fireplace). But, we realized this piece was too large and fragile to be carried around door-to-door. Also bank teller boxes where part of each bank’s design, and not something that could just be replaced easily.

 

The mirror is the real unknown in this item.  It is angled mirror where the teller would usually sit, and it gives the illusion of seeing a large background (since it reflects what’s being seen on the side). Naturally, we though this piece could be part of our carnival collection. We have rigged gambling wheels and milk jugs that are impossible to knock over, so why not something with mirrors? Our friend brought up the old “girl to gorilla” illusion, where a girl would “magically” turn into a gorilla at carnivals. The girl would stand in front of a two-way mirror, and the lights would turn off and illuminate a gorilla behind her (See a video of it here). Obviously gorillas aren’t two inches tall, but it shows how mirrors where commonplace illusions for carnies.

 

This illusion would most likely have to with money (which is surprising because carnivals are usually so honest). It appears to double whatever money/valuables are put inside the box because of the mirror image. Maybe this was used as a prize/betting box to make the pot seem a lot bigger than it actually was. The teller window could be a novelty guard for the “huge” prize. But, we realized there was nothing on the top to keep grubby hands from stealing, so unless this piece is incomplete we can’t write it off as a carnie trick.

"Doubling" your money

Then we researched to see if banks actually used boxes like these, and found some really interesting results. Before the use of ATMs, a few banks actually used mirrors in remote locations. Separate from the bank, there would be stands where a car could drive up, and speak into a mirror to a teller underground. The teller would use a pulley to get the money to the driver, and this way he would be safe from robberies. Maybe the banks even advertized having “TMs” (teller machine), although you probably couldn’t use it at a bar at 4am.

 

We also saw one instance of an actual bank using mirrors. Back when actually walking into a bank to get money was popular, one owner saw a unique solution to the rush hours. To have lots of room on the ground floor, a Long Island bank set up its notes department on the 2nd floor (which was very common). However, during peak hours, the tellers would get overwhelmed with running upstairs all the time. So they had they tellers upstairs, and the customers would speak into an angled mirror to get funds lowered to them.

This still doesn’t explain why there would be a small model of the teller box , we’ve heard of collecting model trains, but model banks? Also the mirror isn’t facing up/down, and doesn’t have pulleys.

 

Maybe this model was used to practice for an Ocean’s 11-or age appropriate to the 1920’s, a Bonnie and Clyde style robbery? Who knows? If you do, please post your answer to one-up the Lift Trucks experts. We will select the best answer and give the winner a LTP T-shirt.

It's Always Rosie at Lift Trucks Project



More of Rosie and other artists here.

Rosie Camanga: His real name was Tino Camanga and he was born in the Philippines in 1910, though it's unknown where the nickname “Rosie” came from. A self-taught tattoo artist, Camanga lived in Honolulu and worked as a tattooist from the early 1930's-1991. There is an interesting legend about how Rosie began tattooing. According to the legend, he walked into a tattoo parlor and said he wanted to learn to tattoo. The shop owner gave him the tattoo machine and said if he could tattoo himself, he’d get the job. Camanga sat down and gave himself his first and only tattoo. Last known sighting of him was in Hawaii.