from my sketchbook: carole landis

Posted by on

Oh Carole, I think it's time for running for cover/Believe me, you're everyone's and nobody's lover/You've got a one-way ticket for all your yesterdays
After appearing in bit parts in films throughout the late 1930s, Carole Landis made a huge splash as “Loana” in the 1940 prehistoric fantasy One Million BC.  That film was a springboard for her career. Carole was cast in 22 films over the next eight years, mostly due to her secret affair with powerful producer Darryl F. Zanuck. She starred opposite some of Hollywood’s biggest stars until she broke off her relationship with Zanuck and was relegated to mostly B-movies.

During World War II, Carole, along with comedienne Martha Raye, dancer Mitzi Mayfair and actress Kay Francis, toured England and North Africa entertaining troops as part of the USO. Later, the tour was extended to include the South Pacific. Carole traveled more than 100,000 miles during the war and spent more time visiting troops than any other actress. She became a popular pin-up alongside her sometime co-star Betty Grable.

Carole married for the first time at 15, and though the marriage was annulled, she married the same man again seven months later. Her husband, wannabe actor Irving Wheeler, sued Busby Berkeley for $250,000 for alienation of affections, accusing the famed choreographer as the “other man” in their marriage. Carole testified that she and Berkeley has strictly a business relationship and the case was thrown out. Carole threw out Wheeler, too. Her next marriage lasted two months. Her third marriage ended in divorce after two years. In 1945, she appeared in a musical on Broadway with future author Jacqueline Susann, with whom she allegedly had an affair.

During her fourth marriage in five years, Carole began a relationship with married actor Rex Harrison. She was hopeful that Harrison would leave his wife (actress Lilli Palmer) and was crushed when he refused.

On July 4, 1948, Carole and Rex Harrison had dinner at her home in Pacific Palisades. After he left, Carole wrote this note to her mother: 

“Dearest Mommie: I’m sorry, really sorry, to put you through this. But there is no way to avoid it. I love you, darling, you have been the most wonderful Mom ever and that applies to all our family. I love each and every one of them dearly. Everything goes to you. Look in the files and there is a will which decrees everything. Good bye, my angel. Pray for me. Your Baby”

Then, she swallowed the contents of a bottle of Seconal — five times a lethal dose.

The next morning, Harrison’s phone call was answered by the maid who informed him that Carole had not awakened yet. Two subsequent calls yielded the same answer. He drove to her home in the afternoon and went up to her bedroom. The maid met him as he descended the stairs. He asked the maid if she has been up to Carole’s room. She replied that she had not. “Well,” he reported, “I think she’s dead.”

Carole was 29 years old.

Comments

comments

from my sketchbook: banjo pig

Posted by on

Oh Susanna! Oh don't you cry for me!
This is just what is looks like. A pig playing a banjo. It’s inspired by a website called “Dueling Banjo Pigs”. They tell their story this way:

“It started out with a duel between friends. Guy Francis challenged fellow illustrator, Stacy Curtis, to a duel of banjo playing pigs. Now, other illustrators have joined the fun with banjo pigs of their own!
We now have over 450 banjo pigs … and counting!”

The website is pretty funny, with interpretations from many different and very talented artists. And now me, too.

Comments

comments

IF: burning

Posted by on

This week’s challenge word on the Illustration Friday website is “burning”.
Home in the valley/Home in the city/Home isn't pretty/Ain't no home for me
At 2 AM on July 2, 1951, Pansy Carpenter smelled something burning. She checked on the finicky water pump in her apartment building’s basement, since it had a tendency to overheat. Concerned for the safety of her tenants, she turned the pump off and went back to sleep. At 8 AM, a telegram delivery boy woke Pansy with a delivery for Mary Reeser, a tenant in the building. Pansy knocked on Mary’s apartment door but no one answered. She grabbed the doorknob and it was unusually warm. Panicked, Pansy ran out of the building for help. She flagged down two house-painters who were working nearby. They forced their way into Mary’s apartment and were nearly overcome by the blast of heat when the door opened. Pansy and the painters discovered the remains of Mary’s favorite chair, covered in ash and still smoldering. A small, circular area surrounding the chair was charred and smoking and covered in soot and ash. A left foot, still intact and still wearing a slipper but burnt off at the ankle, a fused column of vertebrae and a heat-shrunken skull were all that remained of Mary.

The apartment showed signs of intense heat. Plastic switch plate covers were melted and mirrors were shattered. Soot covered the walls above the four-foot mark. Below four feet, the room was untouched by damage, except for the small area around Mary’s chair.

An investigation by St. Petersburg Florida Police revealed no signs of gasoline or similar accelerants. The electrical outlets melted after the fire started, so that was not the source. A stray cigarette igniting clothing could not have generated the heat to cause the full cremation of Mary’s body. At the request of the local police, an FBI investigation determined that Mary had fallen asleep while smoking, and that the extensive damage to her body was due to the “wick effect,” a phenomenon where the clothing of the victim soaks up melted fat and acts like the wick of a candle. The police disagreed. They were convinced it was a case of spontaneous human combustion — that Mary had just burst into flames.

Her cause of death remains a disputed mystery.

Comments

comments

from my sketchbook: roger c. carmel and richard deacon

Posted by on

I'm your friend. I'm not trying to hurt you, just survive.
Roger C. Carmel and Richard Deacon were mainstays of episodic television from the 1950’s through the early 1980’s. Roger was best known for his role as intergalactic criminal Harry Mudd in two episodes of the original Star Trek  series. Roger made many one-shot guest appearances in TV sit-coms and dramas throughout his career, including memorable turns in Hawaii 5-0, The Munsters  and Hogan’s Heroes and a coveted spot on the hit show Batman  in 1967 as villain Colonel Gumm.

Richard Deacon acted in many anthology series in the late 50’s, including his role as Uncle Archie in Annette  opposite Disney darling Annette Funicello. Richard also made numerous guest appearances on television, once joking that he would say “Dinner is served” anytime, anywhere, alluding to his many roles as a butler or servant. He landed the part of blowhard Fred Rutherford, co-worker and nemesis to Ward Cleaver, on Leave It to Beaver. Richard was soon cast as the overbearing producer Mel Cooley on The Dick Van Dyke Show  in 1961 while still working on Leave It to Beaver. He split his time between the two programs for two years, until Beaver  ended its run.

In 1967, Desi Arnaz Productions presented a sitcom called The Mothers-in-Law  starring comediennes Eve Arden and Kaye Ballard as next-door neighbors who become unwilling in-laws when their children marry each other. Roger C. Carmel was cast as Roger Buell, Kaye Ballard’s husband. NBC and producer Desi Arnaz had high hopes for the series and, despite low ratings, renewed it for a second season. Desi informed the cast that NBC gave a five-year commitment to the show, but that previously promised salary increases were out of the question. Roger was infuriated and left. He was promptly replaced, without explanation (à la Darrin on Bewitched ) by Richard Deacon. Upon hearing of his replacement, Roger commented that “Deacon was a poor schmuck who always sold himself short.” Desi Arnaz appeared regularly in the second season as a retired bullfighter, securing another salary for himself in addition to his take as producer and director. NBC canceled The Mothers-in-Law  after the second season.

Richard Deacon continued to act regularly in a variety of roles, including dramas, comedies, anthologies and even a stint on Broadway in Hello Dolly  opposite the unlikely Phyllis Diller. Richard, a long-time gourmet chef and author of several cookbooks, hosted a microwave cooking show on Canadian television in the early 80’s. It was his last role, as he succumbed to the effects of heart disease and died in 1984 at the age of 63.

Roger C. Carmel didn’t have as easy a time securing acting roles after his dispute with Desi Arnaz. He struggled in his career, with small parts in a few sit-coms and the occasional cartoon voice-over (including the voice of Smokey Bear). He caught a break when he became the spokesperson for West Coast Mexican restaurant chain Naugles. He embodied the character of “Señor Naugles”, hoping to become the equivalent to Colonel Sanders. The gig paid well and Roger was able to fuel his long-time cocaine addiction. He died from an overdose (allegedly in the company of several male prostitutes) at the age of 54.

Comments

comments

from my sketchbook: jack nance

Posted by on

In Heaven, everything is fine. In Heaven, everything is fine. You've got your good things. And I've got mine.
My wife has celebrated 28 birthdays since we met. Last year, we enjoyed a wonderfully intimate concert by banjo impresario Tony Trischka at the elegant, historic Elkins Estate, around the corner from our house. Two years ago, we spent a wonderful birthday in New York City. We went to a huge street festival on Sixth Avenue, wandered around Times Square and capped the day uptown with dinner at Serendipity 3. For another birthday, five years ago, I coaxed my wife into seeing a live performance by quirky singer-songwriter Steve Poltz. Poltz is the former beau of popular singer Jewel. He co-wrote her hit “You Were Meant for Me” and maintains a modest, yet rabid, fan-base. The opening act for this particular show was one-time dB’s guitarist Chris Stamey and his new band, a four piece combo who, I swear to God, were playing four different songs simultaneously. Their irritating cacophony raged on loudly for over an hour. Mrs. Pincus’ seat for the show was, unfortunately, jammed into an awkward corner of the venue where a quick exit presented itself as extremely difficult and futilely attempted. She fidgeted on edge through the remainder of Stamey’s set and was too upset and filled with claustrophobic anxiety to enjoy Poltz’s portion of the bill. When the house lights rose and a path to the door became more accessible, Mrs. Pincus bolted and tore down the stairs of the second floor showroom as my son and I perused the merchandise table. As my wife approached the door to freedom, it was gallantly held open by none other than Chris Stamey himself, who had ducked down to the sidewalk for a smoke. He offered a gentlemanly smile as my wife crossed the threshold to which she spat out “You guys SUCK!” right to his face. She walked past him slowly enough to get an ample glimpse of his dumbfounded expression.

But, the first of her birthdays that we spent together was almost the last. It was our second or third date and I took her to see David Lynch’s 1977 apocalyptic account of industrial bleakness – Eraserhead.

Eraserhead  was Lynch’s first feature-length film. Five years in the making and drawing from experiences of living in Philadelphia, it was shot on a shoestring budget partially financed by Lynch’s childhood friend, production designer Jack Fisk. Fisk contributed all the money he could spare and convinced his wife, actress Sissy Spacek, to donate her salary from the successful Carrie  to Lynch’s vision. The black and white production tells the story of Henry Spencer and… jeez!  I don’t know what  the fuck this movie is about! I’ve seen it countless times. I marvel at it. I am intrigued by it. I am repulsed by it. I find it compelling, haunting, riveting and poetic. I just don’t know what the hell  is going on. There’s flashing lights, a shadowy, deformed figure pulling levers in an attic, a woman who sings on a stage in a radiator, giant sperm, miniature roasted chickens that ooze blood and that baby – that awful, horrific baby. Lynch has never revealed how the special effects for the baby were created, but rumors of the use of an embalmed calf fetus are the most speculated. (At one point in the film, Mary, Henry’s girlfriend, says “They’re not sure it is  a baby!” That just about sums it up.)

The lead role of Henry Spencer, the eventual Eraserhead  to which the title refers, was played by Jack Nance. Jack met the director in the 70s and Lynch cast him in his first film. Jack and Lynch had a great working relationship, leading Lynch to cast him in seven more projects throughout his career. They were small parts, but Jack was happy for the work and Lynch was happy to help a friend.

Jack married his second wife, actress Kelly Van Dyke, daughter of Jerry Van Dyke in May 1991. Kelly, whose stage name was Nancee Kellee, worked exclusively in adult films. Six months into their marriage, Kelly hanged herself.

Distraught, Jack moved out of Los Angeles to South Pasadena. One morning in 1996, he got into an altercation outside a Winchell’s Donut Shop with a couple of guys considerably younger and stronger than he. Jack was intoxicated from a night of heavy drinking and his famous temper took over as he spewed insults at the two strangers. One of the men socked Jack in the face, knocking off his glasses and sending him crumpling to the ground. Later in the day, while lunching with friends, Jack related the story and complained of a headache. He excused himself and returned to his apartment. His lunch companions stopped by the next morning to check on Jack and found him dead. An autopsy revealed a blood alcohol level of .24.

A month or so ago, my son and I watched Eraserhead  on the Independent Film Channel late one night. We sat silently as the film flickered before us, its eeriness unfolding with each scene. My wife popped her head into the room and asked what we were watching. Suddenly, she caught a flash of Jack Nance on the screen.

“Oh shit.”, she said, as she rolled her eyes and hurried down the stairs.

Comments

comments

IF: spooky (part 3)

Posted by on

This week’s challenge word on Illustration Friday is “spooky”.
(This is the third illustration I’ve done for this week’s word. HERE is the first and HERE is the second.)
You better stop the things you do

After a failed attempt at becoming an opera singer in the style of Paul Robeson, Screamin’ Jay Hawkins settled on playing piano and singing standard blues.

Soon, he was called to service with the Air Force in World War II. Hawkins told horrific accounts of being held captive and tortured. He claimed that after his rescue, he taped a hand grenade in the the mouth of his tormentor and pulled the pin. Upon returning home, Hawkins was an active boxer and became the 1949 Alaska middleweight champion.

In 1951, Hawkins returned to music, where he became renowned for his stylish fashions of leather and leopard skins, along with his inspired piano playing. In the middle 1950s, he, along with a studio full of drunken musicians, recorded “I Put a Spell on You”. What was planned to be a ballad became a raucous guttural recitation, punctuated by Hawkins grunts and yelps over a throbbing bass line. The performance was mesmerizing, although Hawkins himself blacked out and was unable to remember the session. Afterward he had to relearn the song from the recorded version in order to perform it live. It became the biggest commercial success of Hawkins career, selling into the millions upon its initial release. Hawkins’ stage antics featured his entrance in a coffin, voodoo-influenced props, rubber snakes and Henry — a skull on a stick. He is recognized as the first “shock rocker”, paving the way for acts like Screaming Lord Sutch, Black Sabbath, Alice Cooper and Marilyn Manson.

Despite a career that spanned five decades, releasing over two dozen albums and singles and touring with bands like The Clash and Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, Hawkins never achieved the continued success that his first song promised. After surgery to treat an aneurysm in 2000, Hawkins passed away at the age of 70. When news of his death spread, a contingency of people stepped forward claiming to be Hawkins’ children —the result of relationships with a multitude of women. Careful review of documentation esimated that Hawkins had fathered 75 children in his lifetime. He sure put a spell on someone.

Comments

comments