Grotesque Alphabet #2

Another series of engravings, this time depicting a "lower case alphabet with grotesque figures."

The prints were made by Israhel van Meckenem in approx 1465-1475, and he copied them from Master ES, a German engraver and draughtsman also of the 15th century.

Sadly the British Museum database states that no complete series of these prints is known, so we only have a few to admire. I did, however, chase up a few more prints by Master ES (via Meckenem), including this awesome playing card, the "ace of helmets":



I'm not entirely sure what this is - I just know that I love it! Extreme body hair + tentacles + cudgel is a definite winner in my book. The description calls him a "wild man," which I suppose is fitting.

You can see more prints inspired by Master ES here, but I think the one above is the best.

I also found a nice collection of 'grotesque masks' on the database. This one is my favourite so far:



Aloisio Giovannoli (1550 - 1618) was an Italian printmaker and miniaturist who did a whole bunch of mask engravings. I appreciate this one in particular, because it's worn by a lady. Where is she going in a mask like that? Maybe a monster masquerade? I like it.

Ah well, back to work.

Grotesque Alphabet #1

These prints are from a series of late 16th century engravings called 'Grotesque alphabet in mythological landscapes' by Giacomo Paolini. Not only do they incorporate the hybrid aesthetic of the early grotesque style (very popular at the time) but each is framed by ornamental designs and features a mythological background scene.

For instance, behind the letter H, "Hercules enters the inferno of Cerberus":


I love these. They have so much character and detail. Well worth a closer look. I found them on the British Museum's online database, where you can see more letters from the series.

Alternatively, one YouTube user has made a slide-show of all the letters.





Paolini's is not the only self-proclaimed 'grotesque alphabet' around - hence the #1 in the title. Plenty more alphabetic goodness to be had. (I guess this includes Grotext, but I'm still not entirely sure what that's about.)

A Grotesk Sérénade

Who says the grotesque must always be gross? Sérénade grotesque, composed by Maurice Ravel in the 1900s, is a more subtle creation than the other kinds of 'grotesque music' I have posted about.



Where does the 'grotesqueness' of this piece lie? According to one source:

"Composed about 1893, Sérénade grotesque was originally entitled just Sérénade in the autograph. Ravel admitted the influence of Chabrier's Bourée fantasque, written two years earlier, returning himself to the spirit later and in a more suggestive manner in Scarbo. There is also an association with Alborada del gracioso (Miroirs), where the Spanish idiom is likewise suggested by guitar-like strumming in the opening measures, marked pizzicatissimo."

Here is Emmanuel Alexis Chabrier's Bourrée fantasque for comparison:



While I am far from an expert in this area, it is clearly a subject of some depth. Jessie Fillerup's entire thesis, Purloined Poetics: The Grotesque in the Music of Maurice Ravel, examines this composer and his relationship with the grotesque.

His thesis abstract is very interesting:

"Since Ravel's death, both critics and scholars have questioned why a composer with his gifts would cling to convention--conservative forms, tertian harmonies--in an era of musical revolution. The grotesque, an aesthetic phenomenon characterized by unity among disjunction, engages this strand of criticism in three specific ways: 1) it provides an aesthetic framework for interpreting Ravel's diverse musical styles; 2) it offers a new context for his long-standing appreciation of Poe; and 3) it unveils transgressive elements within conventional musical structures. To differentiate the French grotesque from other varieties, I examine discourses by Hugo, Gautier, Baudelaire, and Berlioz before turning to the tales and criticism of Poe--a juncture where Ravel and the French grotesque meet. Four Ravel works--Sérénade grotesque, L'Heure espagnole, Daphnis et Chloé, and La Valse--manifest disjunctive relationships between music, text, rhythm and meter, gesture; these, combined with the works' reception histories, evoke the grotesque."

I am curious about how 'the grotesque' as a literary or artistic theory is translated into a principle understood to be communicable through sound. I am particularly intrigued by the suggestion that a 'grotesque' reading of certain music "unveils transgressive elements within conventional musical structures." This seems to echo feminist narratives in which 'the grotesque' is understood as a transgressive or emancipatory phenomenon that can be detected in particular representations of women.

Of course, there are some musical works that seem to defy theory. Like this 'ode' to Akzidenz Grotesk font.



This is giving me flashbacks to Grotext. There is something a little odd about these font-lovers.

Grotext

Did you know the grotesque had its very own font? When I heard the name 'Grotext' I assumed it would be something a bit wild, maybe like this...

No, this is Hirsute Futura. Surely a grotesque font would be a little controversial or thrilling? Something like this...


BloodFeast. Perfect for university assignments, resumes and party invitations. What about a creepy monster font?



Oh yeah. At the very least something wacky and weird. How about Tim Yarzhombeck's typography of beards!

So many options. So what is the grotesque font?


According to the Karsten Luecke Type Foundry: "Grotext preserves a human touch. And history. Whereas most contemporary typefaces assimilate lowercase and uppercase, Grotext does the opposite and emphasizes the difference: Its narrow lowercase make it a space-saver. Its uppercase are wide & classically proportioned... its shapes give it a technical flair."

Um, well. I guess it's... tidy. At least it has technical flair. Right?