Draw Me

My dad was an artist.  He doodled and sketched and once sat each of us four kids down and drew our portraits one by one.  He’d sigh and grumble and erase and re-draw, and said he wasn’t pleased with the outcomes. But my mother loved them and framed each one and hung them all up. Sometimes I’d find a little picture he’d drawn for me (a bee, or a cat or a flower) on my napkin in my lunchbox.  I’d tell him later how much I liked it and he’d grudgingly smile and say something touching like “Hmmmph.  Good.”

Sadly he didn’t have money to attend college and he made his living through various office jobs to support his growing family.   Maintaining a stalwart façade and not one to share his feelings (You went to to your room if you were going to have feelings), Dad didn't complain.  But I knew he really wanted to become an artist professionally.  It was the early 60’s, and in the backs of many magazines, including Life and The Saturday Evening Post, there were ads to “Win a Free Scholarship to Art School”.  Each contest would have a picture of a pirate, or a pretty woman, or a cowboy, with a challenge to “Draw Me”.  It promised your work would be evaluated and you could possibly win. 

These advertisements promoted the art correspondence course called The Famous Artists School.  According to Wikipedia The Famous Artists School was “..in operation since 1948. The school was founded by members of the New York Society of Illustrators, principally Albert Dorne and Norman Rockwell.”  I’m not sure which character Dad drew to enter the contest, but I know he did enter.  He didn’t win,  but a salesman came to the door and  signed him up for the course, telling him that-- though he didn’t win-- the instructors at the Art School did see some talent there.  Whether they did that to every entrant I don’t know but Dad signed up.     

Looking back on it, it seems scammy and cheesy.  And though they probably gave a lot of people false hope for becoming a professional artist, the lessons were surprisingly good.  The Famous Artist School Binders began arriving at the house and Dad worked on them during his limited spare time . 

When he finished an assignment he would mail it in and someone at Famous Artist School would evaluate it and send it back to him with comments and suggestions.    Viewed from today, such a slow, clunky method as the Postal Service to get an education seems incredible but that’s the way it was done.   Here is one of his finished assignments, which my mother framed and hung in our house:

When dad wasn’t around, I’d  flip through the binders filled with art lessons.   The drawings were amazing and I especially liked the ones on cartooning and portraiture.  There were lessons on composition, value, and color theory.  It was really quite comprehensive.  Though too young to read all the words, I’m sure I gleaned some good information from those lessons.  

My siblings loved looking at them too.   My older brother remembers dad eventually having to hide the binder with Figure Drawing.  It contained nudes, and he’d caught my brothers giggling over them .  

Dad never finished the Famous Artist Course. I’m not sure why, but, as it was with most things back then, we probably just couldn’t afford it. He never did realize his dream of becoming a professional artist.  I’m sure he was gratified that my eldest brother ---from whose hands he’d removed the binder of nudes, did go to school for art and now owns a successful design firm.  

He dabbled in art his whole life and later made me laugh by taking a watercolor class that I taught where he’d sit in the back and sigh and grumble while he worked.  And he’d bring home his pictures and my mother would frame them and hang them up.