While handbill-sized fliers affixed to surfaces had long been in existence, it was the development of the large-scale color lithographic technique, with images composed of several pieces that could be pasted together into one picture, that made possible the explosion of graphic media campaigns in the 19th century. The first-rate artists who turned their talents to such designs make an impressive roster. Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, Alphonse Mucha and Aubrey Beardsley were early practitioners of an art form that would be continued a century later by David Hockney, Andy Warhol and Robert Rauschenberg.
The history of posters has been a continuing battle between word and image and between simplicity and complexity. How detailed should a visual image be? How much of the space should be allotted to picture and how much to lettering?
“Maximum meaning. Minimum means,” was the byword of influential 20th-century designer Abram Games. On the other hand, “The Poster” tells us that during San Francisco’s psychedelic era, designers often “deliberately ignored traditional rules of poster design — that lettering should be legible, the message communicated immediately and disturbing colors avoided.” Those of us, stoned or not, who tried to decipher one of Victor Moscoso’s trippy rock concert posters would agree with the assessment.
The essays in “The Poster” detail the change in images, methods and public response over the years, sometimes looking back at “humorous” imagery that would now seem problematic, as in a poster showing a suffragist abandoning her hunger strike to sample a bowl of delicious Plasmon Oats. By the “Mad Men” era, poster advertising had shifted from original artwork to a reliance on photography. The commercial artist had been replaced by the graphic designer working with a creative team within an ad agency.
While money spent on poster advertising dropped drastically as television advertising became ascendant, some poster campaigns still broke through. The shock value of the United Colors of Benetton campaigns during the 1980s and ’90s, with images of a priest and nun kissing or a man dying of AIDS, drew plenty of attention to the brand.
A chapter titled “The Poster in the Digital Age” is a fascinating look at the current scene, when posters composed of paper or vinyl are being replaced by digital billboards, with images that are visible for a few seconds before the next image appears. Yet the fleeting image is not the only survivor of the poster today. Social media platforms have added a new, smaller dimension. Homemade posters, photographed at rallies, go viral, being shared, adapted and answered as they spread across Facebook and Twitter. In the end, what compels us to take note of such a poster — a witty slogan or a harmonious blend of line and color? Nineteenth-century poster artists would recognize the question as a familiar one.
Reagan Upshaw is an art dealer and critic in Beacon, N.Y.
A Visual History
Edited by Gill Saunders and Margaret Timmers
Thames & Hudson.
302 pp. $65