for the record: i wrote 10k of indepth introspective character analysis turned personal projection fanfiction about francis from malcolm in the middle, never posted it anywhere, then changed all the names and submitted it for an lgbt essay scholarship as a dissertation on internalized homophobia’s psychological impact into adulthood and won $1000 so. first of all, follow your dreams, second of all, francis from malcolm in the middle is fucking gay
yall figure out how to hex the ruling class yet or do we gotta go over the basics again?
guess what i stole!!!
alright, who summoned the eldritch monstrosity in the closet
shut the fuck up none of you are gamers
WHOOOO’S READY TO RUUUUUMMMMBLEEE
some more:
-our combined ages are more than old enough to be dead did you ever think about that -calling all hipsters -don’t even get me STARTED on that new meme, i swear to god, the kind of day i have had- -move im gay -aint none of your goddamn business where ive been -greetings fellow sinners -its ok im here we can start now
Someone in the notes of the last Leyendecker post I reblogged mentioned having difficulty telling his work and Rockwell’s apart, and I know from experience that many people get them confused, which is somewhat astonishing as, to my eyes, their styles are very distinct. Leyendecker was Rockwell’s idol and mentor, but they were very different people and were interested in portraying different aspects of humanity, even when the basic subject matter was the same.
Surface-level, here are some differences:
Leyendecker smoothed out faults and imperfections (in the young. he stylized them in the old); Rockwell exaggerated them to mild or moderate caricature
Leyendecker approached his paintings as sculpture- even the merest clothing folds are carved out of the paint; Rockwell approached his paintings as drawings- the underlying contour always shines through.
Leyendecker used broad hatching brushstrokes and areas of smooth shine; Rockwell used more naturalistic texture and lighting
Leyendecker created idolized, larger-than-life figures that feel Hellenistic in their perfection; Rockwell created intimate scenes populated by figures that feel familiar in their specificity
Leyendecker’s best and most comfortable work was as a fashion/lifestyle illustrator; Rockwell’s best and most comfortable work was as an editorial/humor illustrator
Leyendecker created beautiful still lives with his figures; Rockwell told compelling stories
Leyendecker often created erotic tension in his paintings; Rockwell almost never did.
See below: Two paintings of soldiers with women, but in Rockwell’s there is a clear punchline, and while the poses are contrived for the sake of composition, they’re not self-conscious. The women are pretty- as demanded by the central joke- but not truly sexualized anywhere but in the mind of the young soldier who is being overloaded with cake and attention.
Contrast Leyendecker’s soldiers with a young nurse. Everyone in this image is posing attractively- no one has their mouth full or ears sticking out. Each crease and fold is sharp and sculptural, and the light picks out their best features- in particular the shoulders and posterior of the soldier facing away from the viewer. There is neither joke nor story, merely a group of beautiful young people, portrayed with deft brushwork and graceful lines. (and check out that hatching! That’s indicator #1 that you’ve got a Leyendecker image)
Leyendecker was very comfortable with “hot young things wearing clothes”, and did them very VERY well, but his facility with idealization came at the cost of personalization, which was fine for fashion illustration, but shows in his domestic scenes:
Beautiful, but… cold. (Also, that hand on the left- who holds a baby with their hand like that??? Good lord, J.C.) Compare a Rockwell illustration (for a baby food brand, I believe) of a mother and baby: this is clearly a real and individual young mother and baby, interacting exactly how parents and babies really interact.
Even when they did basically the same content, and putting aside posing or composition or anything other than objective visual analysis, it’s still obvious who is who:
Red: NR’s smoother rendering vs JCL’s super cool hatching
Green: NR’s naturalistic cloth folds vs JCL’s sculptural stylization
Blue: NR’s natural lighting vs JCL’s world where everything is shiny
Now go forth, confident in the knowledge that you’ll never confuse a Rockwell or a Leyendecker ever again, and can refute any claim that their styles are ‘virtually identical’.
Interesting post! I have to agree that their styles are completely different, but I’ve spent a lot of time looking at Leyendecker’s work (which I strongly prefer.) This is a good guide for anyone who isn’t sure about the differences between the artists’ work and would like to learn more.
pLEASE cLICk ON THE IMAGES AND READ THE CAPTIONS OMG
are you an impractical footwear even when it’s incredibly inconvenient gay, a practical footwear even when it’s incredibly inappropriate gay or a clunky boots gay who inhabits both spaces at once
#this is ‘i hate shoes’ gay erasure you’re absolutely right if you are a barefoot gay you are valid
Sometimes i think about the idea of Common as a language in fantasy settings.
On the one hand, it’s a nice convenient narrative device that doesn’t necessarily need to be explored, but if you do take a moment to think about where it came from or what it might look like, you find that there’s really only 2 possible origins.
In settings where humans speak common and only Common, while every other race has its own language and also speaks Common, the implication is rather clear: at some point in the setting’s history, humans did the imperialism thing, and while their empire has crumbled, the only reason everyone speaks Human is that way back when, they had to, and since everyone speaks it, the humans rebranded their language as Common and painted themselves as the default race in a not-so-subtle parallel of real-world whiteness.
In settings where Human and Common are separate languages, though (and I haven’t seen nearly as many of these as I’d like), Common would have developed communally between at least three or four races who needed to communicate all together. With only two races trying to communicate, no one would need to learn more than one new language, but if, say, a marketplace became a trading hub for humans, dwarves, orcs, and elves, then either any given trader would need to learn three new languages to be sure that they could talk to every potential customer, OR a pidgin could spring up around that marketplace that eventually spreads as the traders travel the world.
Drop your concept of Common meaning “english, but in middle earth” for a moment and imagine a language where everyone uses human words for produce, farming, and carpentry; dwarven words for gemstones, masonry, and construction; elven words for textiles, magic, and music; and orcish words for smithing weaponry/armor, and livestock. Imagine that it’s all tied together with a mishmash of grammatical structures where some words conjugate and others don’t, some adjectives go before the noun and some go after, and plurals and tenses vary wildly based on what you’re talking about.
Now try to tell me that’s not infinitely more interesting.
sparksoffandommagic 