Povl Norholt’s Danish Delights

« Denmark is like a secret little place with its own special language. » — Helena Christensen

Here’s a post that has been a looong time coming. To wit: back on May 14th, 2015, I wrote: « From the pen of a Scandinavian cartoonist who signs his work “Norholt” comes this elegant eye-opener, pulled from a collection entitled “Best Cartoons from Abroad, 1955: A Collection of the Best Cartoons from the Outstanding Publications All Over the World“. Edited by Lawrence Lariar and Ben Roth. Sadly, any search for the mysterious Norholt leads me right back to this selfsame book, an indication that this was perhaps the talented lad’s only English-language publication. Sigh… »

This is what I had:

Incidentally, P.I.B. Copenhagen, founded in 1899, was (and remains!) the principal Danish press agency, not unlike America’s King Features Syndicate… but even older.
The Best Cartoons from Abroad collection actually featured *three* Norholt cartoons. Here’s one of the others.

Then, in 2022, a Norholt original turned up for auction at Heritage. They seemed to know even less than I did, and wrote: « Humorama Artist Breezy October-1957 Gag Cartoon Original Art (Timely Features/Humorama Publ., 1957). A statuesque nude dominates this choice selection from an artist signed as “Norholt” (perceived spelling, lower left). Splendid spontaneity in the brush technique. Production notes (reverse) document an origin in the Humorama line’s Breezy magazine (10-57), with an encore in either Gaze or Gee Whiz (the “G” initial is ambiguous). » People may not have known what it was, but they had eyes: it changed hands for 780 dollars (plus commission and shipping).

« This way, we save the anesthetic, you see… »

I still kept an eye out, and earlier this year, discovered the existence of an abundantly illustrated, Danish-language biography authored by his daughter, Kirsten, an actress likely better known than her father ever was. Which, thankfully, might have been why this precious book saw publication at all.

As it says on the cover, « Kirsten Norholt talks about her father, the cartoonist Povl Norholt ».
For comparison, another take on the same basic situation, but slightly less fanciful.

I then learned, through the biography’s helpful Sources section, of the existence of a slim collection entitled Povl Norholts bedste tegninger fra Hudibras (Chr Erichsens Forlag, 1984); I found myself a cheap copy for my library, but you may freely peruse the entire volume right here!

From this website, we expand somewhat on what little we knew: « Povl Norholt (December 3, 1908 – August 23, 1993) became a student from the Metropolitan School and was employed by A P Møller for a while before he decided to become a draftsman. He was co-founder of the humorous magazine Hudibras and created the beautiful Miss Sylvia, who became the epitome of a Norholt girl. And if it was a drawing of her on the cover, the circulation increased noticeably.

Povl Norholt had a style that could certainly have led to world fame if he had accepted the offer to draw for the American magazine Esquire*. He did not, however, but found a wife in Denmark, which daughter Kirsten Norholt is happy about. She became an actress but has also written a book about her father. It is simply called ‘Norholt’. She has donated part of her father’s work to the Museum of Leaf Artists, which is located at the Royal Library.

By the standards of the time, Povl Norholt’s drawings were tantalizing and erotic, executed with taste and professionalism. When he was asked late in his career if he wanted to make a poster for a Bedside movie, he declined. It was too flat and vulgar. »

« That was certainly not the point of the assignment “My most exciting experience” »
« No more, Ejler… you’ve already had enough! »
« Oh, she’s trying to attract the waiters’ attention… »
Norholt was also a skilled watercolourist, not to mention a master of mood.
I’ve seen two slight variations of this cartoon: this one bears the caption « It’s strange though… now I suddenly can’t remember what I was supposed to ask… », while another, where the kiosk is ‘Complaints’, goes « No, little miss, I really have nothing to complain about! ». In each case, barely a joke, but the visuals fully compensate for the inanity.
Despite being decades older, this piece — in terms of colour, tone and technique — brings to mind Bill Sienkiewicz‘s palette and especially Kyle Baker‘s painted/mixed-media work from the late 1980s (think Justice Inc.)
Now, some might wonder, why does a Danish cartoon feature an English caption? Fair question: it’s a reference to a classic black vaudeville routine, which in turn became a song recorded by many. I daresay, though, that its finest hour was the delightful 1947 Louis Jordan (and his Tympany Five!) recording. Enjoy!
« I’m getting tired of looking at the same faces every night! »
The unflappable elderly gentleman**, which we encounter in the midst of all sorts of outlandish situations, appears to be the mascot of Hudibras Magazine, founded in 1943 and miraculously still around, though it should frankly be put out of its misery.
Selective landscape perception. « The painter here could be my father’s alter ego. He certainly has a clear sense of what is most marketable in this beautiful autumn landscape. »
« No, I don’t want to go… I don’t understand a word of French! » Le Bal Tabarin was… well, you’ve got eyes. It was open from 1904 to 1953, so you’ve missed it, I’m afraid. As Michel Delpech famously sang, « Un Tabarin en moins, un Palladium en bus ».
And speaking of the French… « Novel illustration. The painter Toulouse-Lautrec or the ladykiller Landru? »

-RG

*Oh, how Esquire (and Norholt’s American agent) tried to get him to move to America! That most amusing negotiation is deliciously recounted in his biography. Daughter Kirsten concludes: « In reality, I think it was never my father’s dream to come to America. He was comfortable and safe in Denmark among friends and family, and his dreams of going abroad were more towards England, where his two sisters lived. »

**Obviously modelled after E. Simms Campbell‘s Esky (« the white mustachioed, pop‐eyed, bulbous‐nosed connoisseur of female beauty »), Esquire Magazine’s mascot, who first appeared in 1934.

Abner Dean’s Universe: Before…

« No other state of confusion is as interesting as yours. »

By the mid-1930s, Abner Dean (1910–1982), Abner Epstein in New York City, had reached the pinnacle of his profession, and begun to make rewarding inroads into other pursuits and endeavours. Fruitfully and prolifically published in most of the top magazines of the era (and top era for magazines), such as The New Yorker, Life, Esquire, Coronet, Time, Newsweek, Collier’s, Look, Ladies’ Home Journal and so forth, he’d also scored in the advertising field (most notably through a fifteen-year association with Aetna Insurance).

Yet he was restless; he bristled at the limitations, conventions and formulae of the era’s gag cartooning world and had something grander in mind and up his sleeve. We’ll get to that.

But first, here’s a sampling of what Abner accomplished as a commercial illustrator and cartoonist early in his career.

AbnerCheckInA
The following four cartoons appeared in the pages of Esquire, for which Dean produced in excess of forty colour cartoons, and scads more in good old black and white (frequently with spot colour adornment) between 1934 and 1955.

DeanCinemaA
Spot the influence? The girl is a dead ringer for one of Jack Cole‘s celebrated beauties.

DeanCountingDreamerADeanSherbetA

DeanNewYorker1933A
As Abner created five covers for The New Yorker (1933-35), it seemed absurd to leave any of them out, especially given their high calibre. Here they are, in order of their appearance.

DeanNewYorkerNov33ADeanNewYorker1934ADeanNewYorkerApr34ADeanNewYorker1935A

AbnerDean46AetnaAd01
Two examples of Dean’s illustrations for Aetna Insurance‘s long-running advertising and prevention campaign, for which Dean produced a whopping one hundred and ten drawings between 1940 and 1955. This one hails from 1946.

AbnerDean53AetnaAd02
To better convey the tone and tenor of the campaign, I’ve transcribed some of its text. This entry is from 1955.

AbnerDeanPortrait
Our boy, wearing an appropriately skeptical expression, from the back cover of his Come As You Are (1955, Simon & Schuster).

Incidentally, what little remains publicly known about this once-famous man is the fruit of diligent research conducted by the eclectically erudite Ken Parille. As usual, we stand on the shoulders of giants. Thank you!

-RG