Newspaper Gossip Column

The Talk of London was a popular Gossip column published every Saturday in the Daily Express during the 1920’s & 30’s, It was always signed The Dragoman. A “Dragoman” was an interpreter or guide.

Here I’ve gathered together a few stories from “The Talk of London” which gives a fascinating insight to the world of pavement artists during the 20’s & 30’s.

Talk of London Column heading (1924)

Pavement Architecture

It is a curious thing that while most of London’s pavement artists work on identically similar and most conventional lines, they break out into remarkable originality when they do leave the beaten track.

There is one whose speciality is wood carving of a really high order, and yesterday I came across an elderly original who supplements his flagstone paintings by a beautifully executed model of a cottage complete with man and wife, well and bucket, crazy path, and hollyhocks.

From the fact that he labels it a “gamekeeper’s cottage,” I suspect a real-life tragedy connected with the breaking up of a great estate.

Published: Daily Express Sat. 5^th April 1924

The King in Chalk

A PAVEMENT artist at work in Kingsway yesterday had copied Mr Charles Sims portrait of the King, which he described as “the most-discussed picture at this year’s Academy.” Considering that the work was done in chalks it was a creditable reproduction, although I doubt whether either the King or Mr Sims would have felt flattered. Passers-by paused to look, but I noticed few threw a copper into the hat.

Published: Daily Express Sat. 17^th May 1924

Talk of London coloumn heading (1932)

London’s First NEWSPAPER Pavement Art Competition!

No feature of London life is more characteristic and none more fascinating to visitors from overseas and the provinces than the pavement artists. Their displays are, in a true sense, the art galleries of the people. And in this cloudless weather they have the chance to perfect masterpieces which are not likely to be ruined by sudden showers.

I PROPOSE, therefore, to award a prize of £3.3s. for the best display of pavement art that I see between now and next Friday. There will be a second prize of £1.1s. I shall visit personally a number of “pitches”—without disclosing my identity—and shall take account only of pictures drawn directly on the pavement.

Published: Daily Express: Sat. 20^th August 1932

W J Stubbs: Talk of London Pavement art competition winner 1932

Pavement Artist Competition: RESULTS!

ABOVE you see the pavement artist who has won my award of £3.3s. He is Mr W J Stubbs, who works under the shadow of the imposing statue of Lord Clyde in Waterloo-place. The second prize of £1.1s goes to Mr A Mannix, whose pitch is outside St. Stephen’s Church, Gloucester road. They will receive cheques.

It has been difficult to judge this competition, so high is the standard attained by most of the artists whose work I have inspected. A close runner-up for the second prize was the artist in College-crescent, Swiss Cottage, who has a lively humour and draws pound notes on the pavement so realistically that you instinctively stoop to pick them up.

MR MANNIX the second prize winner covers six entire paving stones with one large landscape—exquisitely done, with trees worthy of Corot and a building whose perspective is “primitive,” in the modern French manner.

BUT as soon as I saw Mr Stubbs display I knew that I had found my winner. He works entirely in black and white, and his compositions are all original—two facts which in themselves distinguish him from many pavement artists. Most of his pictures are studies from memory, of actual scenes in Essex and elsewhere. It takes him about two and a half days to complete his “gallery,” which is arranged with beautiful symmetry.

WORKS from his brush—for he paints on canvas too—hang in many famous houses and the Prime Minister and Mr Baldwin are among the people who take a friendly interest in him. I award him first prize without hesitation.

Published: Daily Express Sat. 27^th August 1932

THE DRAGOMAN

Researched by Philip Battle

Read my related blog on WJ Stubbs: William John Stubbs (1927)

Visit my Artists of The Paving Stone page on Facebook!

The story of George Jeffery: 40 years of screeving!

IN LONDON—Artist sketching artist on the Thames Embankment one blustering morning in winter was too much for the curiosity of the occasional riverside strollers, particularly as one of the artists happened to be chalking a series of colourful pictures on the stone flags.

And so large a crowd came to stare that George Jeffery, pavement artist, had an audience, such as he has rarely had since the days before trams, when Londoners walked and knew the pavements all too well. George Jeffery, you see has been painting pictures on the Embankment since 1897.

Anyone who cares to draw on the pavement in London may do so, provided he does not impede the progress of pedestrians. It is a right which has never been questioned. Pavement artistry is a traditional temporary occupation for many jobless men, and for numerous others it is a complete career.

The oldest established members of this fraternity of the sidewalk academy are “characters,” well known to Londoners. There is, for instance, the ‘Gallery Man’, who chalks on the stone flags at various points copies of famous pictures and inscribes besides each a neatly written potted history. And then, at Hyde Park Corner, there is a cheery fellow who intersperses his pictures with comic comment on the world at large.

Illustration of George Jeffery: as published in The Christian Science Monitor 1937

But George Jeffery is the veteran of them all. Kneeling there on the Embankment he told how he had walked from Portsmouth to take up his career as a pavement artist and how that career had served him well enough to bring up three children. “There’s only mother and me at home now, and our granddaughter,” he said. “It’s difficult at this job nowadays, but we manage. But the children are doing well for themselves, Very well.”

He stared reflectively ahead of him, perhaps remembering his first clumsy efforts on the pavement, back before the beginning of the century, “I found out it’s not near so easy as it looks,” he declared, with a shake of his head, “not near so easy, I couldn’t do it at all to start with; had to start at the bottom, so to speak, with a herring on a plate. But I learnt from others and by observing. I reckon I always find how to do these pictures a bit better every day. You can always learn something new.”

His pictures were flowers and landscapes. He was rather sorry he had not done his “best work” that particular day. “You ought to see my Dartmoor, studies of the moors. I got a lovely heather colour, look.”  And he worked one of his chalks on the pavement. He makes all his own colours, baking thick slabs in “Mother’s oven, you know.”

George Jeffery reckons he makes out all right because he knows how to save. “I put a shilling by here and there, for the wet days.” The “rainy day” Is no mere metaphor to the pavement artist. It is a very real thing, and, in London, occurs rather too frequently. But George makes out, because, he says, he does not spend any money on drink. He tucks it away, “to surprise mother.”

And, so every day he sits on one heel, in the shadow of the Embankment making pictures on the stone paving. It takes two or three hours to get the work finished, and each evening the pavement must be scrubbed clean. That is all that the police ask of him, and he is very conscientious about it……

Published in the Christian Science Monitor: 27^th November 1937

Researched and transcribed by Philip Battle

Visit my Artists of The Paving Stone page on Facebook!

Without Benefits: The First World War Screevers

Attracted by a little crowd at the side of one of the broad pavement spaces in Kingsway the other morning I drew near and found a lady volubly declaiming against the Government and the War Office, because of the sight there to be witnessed.

It was that of a man engaged in making crayon pictures. There was nothing strange in that, as pavement artists are common enough; and women have recently joined the craft, usually on the plea of children to support through a husband having been killed in the war.

But this man was obviously very new to the work, for his drawings were crude even for a pavement artist. He had scrawled on the pavement a notice to this effect: “A member of the original Expeditionary Force to France; gassed and wounded at Ypres, suffering from a paralysed arm, discharged from the Army, and unable to get work. Anyone interested may inspect my discharge papers.”

Here was the source of the lady’s indignation. The man seemed to be getting a fair share of coppers, but the spectacle was a depressing one. Next day the disagreeable impression it left on my mind was emphasised by the announcement of another pavement artist I saw at work near Euston Station to the effect that he had been severely wounded during the retreat from Mons.

Pavement artist on the Thames Embankment, London. Cir. 1915

It is to be hoped that the Pensions Question will soon be settled, as this kind of thing is rather humiliating to the nation, to say nothing of its effect on the men themselves.

Published in the Cheltenham Looker-On (Saturday 16^th September 1916)

Following the political embarrassment of so many injured service men being discharged and forced to work on the streets as pavement artists and beggars:  In 1916 a Parliamentary Select Committee recommended that the existing pension provisions should be incorporated into one War Pension Scheme administered by a new Department. In 1917 the Ministry of Pensions was established, later becoming the Department of Social Security.

Although this didn’t completely solve the problem, it eventually led to the establishment of a living War Pension for ex-servicemen and a social security benefits system for the unemployed in Britain by 1947.

Written & researched by Philip Battle

Visit my Artists of The Paving Stone page on Facebook!

From the pages of the Illustrated Police News

AT Marylebone Police court, on Saturday, William Pacey, thirty-eight, dressed in ragged clothes was charged on remand with begging. It will be remembered that the prisoner was arrested by Detectives Noor and Pollard near Wentbourne Grove whilst sitting in the public way displaying a portrait of considerable size representing Miss Grace Hawthorne, of the Princess Theatre: also a number of smaller cards bearing various inscriptions.

POSTER: Grace Hawthorne in “Theodora” 1889

The prisoner, who was wearing two gold rings, now said he had been in India, and had suffered considerably in health. He had been employed in two or three situations in large jewellere’  in the West End extending over fifteen years, where there were many thousands of pounds worth of property. Some time ago he took a quantity of potassium, and when he recovered he was sent to an asylum.

While in there he used to sit up after the other inmates had gone to bed to practice drawing, so as to be in a position when he came out to earn his own living. He had now been exhibiting these drawings for years, and had earned a living for his wife. He did not do it for drink, but to well clothe and care for his wife and child. It was no imposition; and he had done his work so well that he had received as much as 5s. from people, but sometimes he sat down on the ground for eight or ten hours in the street and had earned as little as threehalfpence.

He never begged; people gave what they liked. He had drawn a portrait of Buffalo Bill, and that gentleman was driving past him (prisoner) one day in company with Lord Marcus Beresford and Buffalo Bill gave him 2s.

Mr Cooke said the conduct of this prisoner was really begging, and could not be allowed. As, however, he had been in custody for eight days, he (the magistrate) now discharged him.

Published in the Illustrated Police News (Saturday 26^th November 1887)

Researched by Philip Battle

Visit my Artists of The Paving Stone page on Facebook!

Pavement artists of the Women’s Suffrage Movement

In 1908, the penalty for a woman suffragette pavement artist caught drawing in chalk on the pavement, was seven days in prison for a first offence.

How the Suffragettes Advertise

The English Suffragettes are going about the country chalking up notices on houses, walls and pavements. This photograph shows three prominent ladies in the campaign for Woman’s Suffrage—Misses Eye, Kenny, and Crocket—chalking up an advertisement on a fence.

Suffragette Wall Chalkers, LONDON: Published 25th April 1908

Published in the Brisbane Courier (Saturday 25th April 1908)

SELF-DENIAL

A Suffrage poem by “Nemo” (a Suffragette)

The supporters of the movement for female suffrage in the United Kingdom have decided on a week of self-denial—(Morning paper.)

Not for a life, or for a year,

But for a week (of seven days clear),

The suffragettes will make a trial

Of unaccustomed self-denial.

What means the term? The plainest dress.

Quite simple in its ugliness,

No milk and sugar in the tea,

The bread from trace of butter free?

There may be something of this sort,

But ’tis not found in our report.

We read of street vo-cal-isations.

Of raising funds at railway stations,

Of organ-grinding, pavement-chalking

(To catch the eye of persons walking).

So far, so very good—but let

Each self-denying suffragette

Go one step further, and deny

Herself the right to speechify.

Let not a single female raid

On patient Parliament be made.

Keep, but for one short week, the peace.

And earn the blessing of the police!

Published in the Western Mail, Perth (Saturday 22^nd Feb. 1908)

In order to raise funds, Mrs Pethick Lawrence had designated 15^th to 22^nd February 1908 as self-denial week.    During this week, WSPU members were to do without luxuries such as cocoa, coffee, and tea, perform extra work, or use other means such as pavement chalking, to raise funds for the Union.  Mrs Lawrence (President of the WSPU) stated, in reference to Self-Denial Week that “some of the members who were artists meant to add to the funds by working as pavement artists, while other intended to sing in the streets.” According to Miss Christabel Pankhurst, “the results from street singing, organ playing, and pavement drawing have been excellent!”

Activities during “SELF DENIAL WEEK” in 1908 raised over £8000 for the Suffrage movement.  £672,851 in today’s value!

‘VOTES FOR WOMEN’ THE CRY

On March 1^st 1908, the NEW YORK TIMES reported that the “Suffragettes where begging in London streets” On many street corners, all the way from the eastern part of London to the extreme west, and even in the slum districts, they are presenting their contribution boxes for substantial aid to the “cause.”

Woman Pavement Artist POSTCARD: Published by VOTES FOR WOMAN 1908

Miss Coombes, who is a well-known artist, has been making many pennies by sketching on the pavement with varied colored chalk, and unlike the pictures of Joe Elvin’s famous sidewalk artist, you do not have to “tell ‘em by the writin’ underneath.”

SHE sallied forth with chalks to make London in some measure picturesque!

Suffragettes Chalk Creed on Sidewalk

LONDON—Prime Minister Asquith’s garden party at his official residence on Downing street provided the suffragettes with a new role, that of pavement artists. Stopping suddenly, one of them, writing with a heavy piece of chalk, had got as far as “Do woman want” before a policeman rushed up and removed her. Another chalk-wielder accomplished the word “votes” before an inspector of police rushed her off. Then the police formed a cordon around the house and frustrated further efforts.

Suffragette chalkers released from the Gaols 1908

Published in the Oakland Tribune USA 20^th June 1908

Researched and written by Philip Battle

LINKED BLOG: Pavement Art and the SUFFRAGETTES! (1907-1914)

Visit my Artists of The Paving Stone page on Facebook!

By-laws to stop the Screevers

The authorities have always tried to regulate pavement art by any means possible; today, the high street is in danger of dying through lack of trade, and still, the artists, and buskers who bring life and vitality to our streets are having a hard time of it.

It was no different back in 1871, as this little article proves:

The wayfarer in London has doubtless occasionally noticed on the pavement some highly-coloured work of art—a mackerel, somehow or other, usually being a stock subject with the artist; and a beautifully chalked inscription, involved in some very complicated flourishes, has informed the looker-on that the accomplished artist, who crouches down behind his chef-d’oeuvre, is out of work, and has a wife and seven children; or something of that sort.

Poor fellow, the pavement artists’ occupation is gone, or going. The Metropolitan Board of Works has no feeling for such art, or for the artist; and the former is now declared a penal offence and the latter liable to punishment.

SUSPICION: Punch cartoon from 1872

At first glance this may be regretted; but if it be true, as I have heard, that man behind the pavement drawing was seldom the real artist, and that some other mendicant “did it for the trade,” why that lessens one’s regret. As for the advertisers who are henceforth forbidden to stencil their announcements on the pavement, one has no pity for them. This is not legitimate advertising. Moreover, it must be very annoying for a tradesman to have plastered all over the pavement in front of his shop the advertisements of a rival in the same trade—very!

Published in the Alnwick Mercury (Saturday 18^th March 1871)

Researched by Philip Battle

Visit my Artists of The Paving Stone page on Facebook!

The Latest Encroachment

Here’s a little story for International Women’s Day:

Still more encroachments upon the masculine preserve, writes a correspondent. Hitherto the profession of the pavement artist has been the exclusive prerogative of the indigent male who has supplemented the appeals of art by the more eloquent pleas of a wooden leg or an exaggerated squint.

But we have changed all that at Hampstead. Coming down the high-street yesterday I beheld a lady neatly and prettily attired bending over the pavement, on which she had drawn a series of excellent scenes.

A Lady Pavement Artist: Cartoon from the Leeds Times. (5th August 1899)

The pavement artists, new style, struck me as a distinct improvement on the old style, and it suggests a new sphere of labour for—must we use the discourteous phrase?—superfluous woman.

Published in the Sunderland Daily Echo and Shipping Gazette (Friday 3^rd October 1902)

Researched by Philip Battle

Related blog: Alice G. Coleman (1893)

Visit my Artists of The Paving Stone page on Facebook!

Royston Vasey and the Monster from Hell

Series 2 Episode 6 – Broadcast (18^th Feb 00)

Here’s a quirky little one, from the hit dark British comedy series, the League of Gentlemen.

OPENING TITLES: League of Gentlemen (2000)

OPENING TITLES – STELLA HULL WANDERS DOWN THE MAIN ROAD THAT IS A SCENE OF COMPLETE CHAOS. THE ARMY HAVE NOW BEEN CALLED IN, AND JEEPS, TRUCKS AND A SMALL TANK DRIVE ALONG. TROOPS ROUND UP PEDESTRIANS AND USHER THEM BACK INTO THEIR HOMES. HOUSES ARE CORDONED OFF, AND SOME WINDOWS HAVE BEEN COVERED WITH BOARDS MARKED WITH CROSSES. A MAN SITS ON THE PAVEMENT, OBLIVIOUS TO THE PANDEMONIUM. BY HIS FEET IS A SIGN THAT READS ‘PAVEMENT ARTIST – PLEASE GIVE WHAT YOU CAN’. NEXT TO HIM ARE PHOTOGRAPHS AND PAINTINGS OF PAVEMENTS.

OPENING TITLES: The pavement artists paintings of pavements (2000)

Researched by Philip Battle

Visit my Artists of The Paving Stone page on Facebook!

One of America’s first Sidewalk Art Festivals

A sure sign of spring is a bunch of kids chalking a hopscotch court on a city sidewalk. The warm sunshine seems to give urban people such impulses. But few policemen would sympathize if they found adults using the pavements for drawing boards.

Sidewalk Pet Portraits: US cartoon Cir. 1967

In San Francisco, however, authorities understand. The city’s Recreation and Parks Department recently sponsored an official “chalk-in for all ages.” It staged it in an area where the “hippies” congregate—the rendezvous of the philosophic college dropouts and other young people.

The results were exciting. In almost no time, we are told, 200 eager entrants in the contest claimed the 200 packages of colored chalk which the Park Department had ready to distribute. Others brought their own. Soon the chalk artists had covered with their sketches the four-foot squares of asphalt assigned to each. Many bright, original designs appeared. Spectators crowded.

The first rain was expected to wash away the entire art exhibition. But its lesson will remain. It indicates that cities should find more outlets for the creative abilities of their youth. More than half a century ago the settlement house movement sought to meet this need. Now other organizations such as the Job Corps are taking on the task.

But the focus should not be on the needs of the poor only. The San Francisco Recreation and Park Department is on the right track in setting up its chalk-in for people of all ages and stations.

Published in The Christian Science Monitor (10^th April 1967)

Researched by Philip Battle

Visit my Artists of The Paving Stone page on Facebook!

In the shadow of the White House

“It is definitely message art, more so than Bicentennial art of any kind,” said George R. (Randy) Hofman, 24, as he put the finishing touches on a huge chalk drawing of the Crucifixion on the sidewalk across the street from the White House.

Hofman said he spends summers in Ocean City, N.J., doing chalk drawings, acrylic paintings and sand sculptures, mostly on religious themes. He has sculpted and painted the Last Supper, Moses parting the Red Sea, and Moses with the Ten Commandments.

He has also reproduced famous art, such as “The Starry Night” by van Gogh, but he prefers religious motifs, because “more people can identify with (them) right off.”

“They love the spiritual enlightenment of it,” Hofman said. “They get inspired.”

Hofman lives with his parents at New Hampshire Ave. near Brookeville in Montgomery County. He said he converted the stable there into a studio, and he has painted a huge acrylic mural on the walls and the ceiling depicting the second coming of Christ.

The young artist works quickly; it took a little over an hour yesterday to complete most of the picture’s detail. About eight feet square, its main elements were Christ on the Cross, a centurion and a kneeling follower.

Artist Hofman puts finishing touches to drawing of crucifixion at Madison Street, NW (1976)

“You have to juxtapose the warms and the cools, the darks against the lights for the contrast,” Hofman said. He said he begins by drawing an outline with ordinary blackboard chalk and filling it in with colored chalk.

Hofman said he was concerned that the authorities might object to someone “painting” the sidewalk in front of the White House and the (guard) said if you go across the street maybe it’d be OK,” he said.

So Hofman picked up his chalk and found a concrete “canvas” in front of Lafayette Park. Several pedestrians stopped to admire his work, “although one person didn’t like it, because he didn’t think Christ should be on the ground like that.”

Others were enthusiastic. Brother Luke, of the international Order of St. Luke the Physician, said it was “super.”

“If we could get teenagers turned on to ‘defacing’ sidewalks with chalk, maybe they wouldn’t deface walls with spray paint,” he said. “This is a beautiful expression that’s not detrimental to anybody.”

Hofman said he wants to see sidewalk art in his home town. “There’s hardly any of it here,” he said, though it’s common in Europe and in Boston and San Francisco.

Published in the Washington Post USA (11^th Feb. 1976)

Researched by Philip Battle

Visit my Artists of The Paving Stone page on Facebook!

The Story of Alfred Horton

A cockney artist in pastels, who lives and works in the glow of the sunset—morning, noon and night. He is part of the London street scene.

You will see him any fine day on the Thames Embankment, near Charing Cross Pier, kneeling on a little pad, and rubbing the crimson and orange glow of the setting sun into the paving stone with a grubby finger. This week his pastels have won for him the title “Screever Number One, London.”

Alfred Horton cartoon as it appeared in the Christian Science Monitor 1953

The word “screever” isn’t defined in Webster’s. In a cockney slang book, however, you would find it means a pavement artist, one whose canvas is the sidewalk. London’s seven top screevers were invited to compete in the National Hobbies and Handicrafts Exhibition at the Central Hall here this week. Seven great slabs of paving stone were taken along as canvases.

Three-Hour Job

Alfred got down to work. He took nearly three hours, much longer than usual, to complete his picture, “Running Water.” What with the mike, and the lights, and the flashing bulbs, and the questions of the news-papermen, it was hard to concentrate,” he told me later. But Alfred knew his subject. And his colleagues applauded as he took off his French beret and rubbed his stubbly beard on receiving the cash prize of £5 from Jean Carson, Actress.

Alfred Horton with actress Jean Carson (Original press photo 1953)

“I joined the merchant navy when I was 14,” he said. “I’ve seen sunsets all over the world. When I pick up a piece of chalk, the pictures all come crowding back to me.” He was doing a repeat of his prize-winning picture on the pavement the next day when I visited him, just a stone’s throw (pavement stone) from Cleopatra’s Needle.

‘Bit Bright?’

A battered old felt hat had a few pennies in it. I dropped in a coin. It chinked, but Alfred didn’t look up. He selected another crayon from hundreds on a piece of sacking on the pavement. Two sprightly white lambs gambolled into the picture. Alfred took a black crayon and etched in a gate. “Bit bright, ain’t it—that sky?” a voice behind me said. Alfred dropped his chalk. “Time and time again I’ve seen it.” He said. “Where?” the critic asked. “In Scotland when I was in the Army.”

Alfred joined the Army in the last war, he told me. Maybe it was on manoeuvres among the heathered banks and braes he had seen the golden sunsets. The wooded copes, the sheep, the water dashing up from black rocks.

‘Just a Gift’

He had a precise, well-ordered way of doing his picture—starting with the sunset. “Never ‘ad a lesson in my life. It’s just a gift,” he said modestly. I could see the faint outlines of the sunsets of other days on the pavement.

“Do you have to rub them out each night?” I asked. “Well—yes,” he said, “but often the rain does it for me. It’s late when I leave.” My own feeling was he couldn’t bear to part with his sunsets. “Oil paintings—yes I do them, but not for sale. I might do a masterpiece one day. Where would I be if I sold it?” So Alfred parts only with pastels—as pictures and trays. He is sending one to Jean Carson, “so she can remember the screever she gave the prize to,” Alfred said.

Published in the Christian Science Monitor (19^th September 1953)

Here’s another take on the same story……….

No Appreciation

Seven pavement artists competed yesterday for a £5 note at Central Hall, Westminster. They were provided with paving stones and set to work at 10.30am Judging started at 1.30pm.

Alfred Horton with actress Jean Carson (Original press photo 1953)

The winner was Alfred Horton of the Oval, Kennington. Whose normal stand is outside Charing Cross Station. His picture—a lush Highland scene called “Running Water.”

Alfred Horton working on his winning piece “RUNNING WATERS” (Original press photo 1953)

Horton, 51, said: “I spent 30 years in the Merchant Navy, another six in the Army. After that I felt I wanted to do something more creative.” But like most artists he doesn’t think much of the English public. . . .“Englishmen don’t appreciate art nowadays. I have to rely on foreign visitors for a living.” His takings—30s. a day in the summer, down to 5s. a day in winter.

Published in the Daily Express (Friday 18^th September 1953)

Just on a side note; the competition judge was American Actress Jean Carson, who starred in many US film and TV productions, including The Twilight Zone, Perry Mason & The Untouchables, to name but a few. Later in life, she developed a drinking problem which limited her acting career. Her last film role was 1977′s Fun with Dick and Jane. On November 2nd, 2005, Carson died from complications of a stroke; she was 82 years old.

Related blog: FLAGSTONES FOR SALE (1953)

Written and researched by Philip Battle

Visit my Artists of The Paving Stone page on Facebook!

A London pavement art poem

Stuart Peterson poem Illustration from the WOMAN’S WEEKLY 1934

–Written by NELLIE A. EVENS

Published in The Woman’s Weekly: Saturday 22^nd December 1934

Researched by Philip Battle

Visit my Artists of The Paving Stone page on Facebook!

The Phantasmagoria

In the 1660s, a man named Thomas Walgensten used his so-called “lantern of fear” to summon ghosts.

In the late eighteenth century several showmen used the lantern to produce horror shows. These were known as “Phantasmagoria” shows. A variety of horrific images were projected to frighten the audience, examples being ghosts projected on smoke to give a frightening appearance and images that would move around the walls. Often the projector was behind a translucent screen, out of the view of the audience. This greatly added to the mystery of the show.

Magic Lantern Projector 1880

The Magic Lantern, is it had become known in Victorian England, became a popular form of entertainment, well before the advent of the moving picture.

Over the period of a little more than 200 years the Magic Lantern developed from basic projectors such as the Sturm Lantern, capable of producing small, dimly lit images to the magnificent Triunials, manufactured by such firms as J H Steward, W Butcher and Son, or W C Hughes.

In the hands of a consummate showman these fabulous machines could produce huge, brightly coloured, wonderfully animated entertainments for hundreds of people.

London Screever Lantern Slide cir. 1888

In the 1870′s and 1880′s there was a full flowering of the lantern industry, companies such as Carpenter and Westley, Newton and Bamforth produced lanterns and slides for every occasion and location. In the 1880′s and 1890′s up to 28 firms were engaged in the production of lanterns and slides in London alone.

Screever on the Thames Embankment: Lantern Slide cir. 1885

Slides where numbered and fitted into a set show of events, and often accompanied with stories and dialog designed to bring the ‘static’ images to life!

Poor pavement artists where often used to convey moral tales, and images of London screevers where shown across the country and abroad. These images where especially popular with the temperance movement who would demonstrate the woes of alcohol on the poor working man.

The Pavement Artist by F. de Paula Cembrano 1890

Photographs of pavement artists would also be popular in places like New York, where they were seen as being “exotic.”

Even with the arrival of the moving picture (Cinema) the Magic Lantern Show would remain popular until the 1930’s

Portstewart, Northern Ireland; Lantern Slide 1932

The slides illustrated here where made of glass and measure approx. 3inch (8cm) square. They were often hand-coloured, and in the days of black and white photography, the sight of coloured, projected images would have been a real treat.

Researched by Philip Battle

Related blog: Magic lantern slide-Restored (2011)

Related blog: New acquisition–Magic lantern slide (1890)

Visit my Artists of The Paving Stone page on Facebook!

The John Stewart Story

A story in stones of a man who did wrong and has suffered ever since

On the pavements of London, Daily Mirror reporter, Eileen Ashcroft found John Stewart writing his life-story.

Wednesday, Sept. 21

“GIVE a dog a bad name” And it’s a terrible struggle to get back on your feet.  Mr John Stewart walked into my office the other day. He is a pavement artist, and you’ll usually find him at his pitch between Scotland Yard and Charing Cross Station He had a spot of bother at one time and spent a spell in prison, and ever since, although he’s made up his mind to go straight, he’s never been able to get  back on his feet again.

As soon as a prospective employer hears he’s been in prison, it’s good-bye to his chances of a job. “It seems that nobody’s willing to give lame dog a chance,” he said rather forlornly.

JOHN STEWART: All he wants is somebody to Trust Him!

Mr Stewart’s great ambition is to get back into the building trade like his father before him, who was a stonemason. His father was a very brave man and was once presented with a silver watch and a bag of gold for a very courageous rescue. He went down a dangerous draw well to rescue one of his workmates who had fallen from the scaffolding during repairs. He died when his son, John, was sixteen and left eleven children, five younger than John. John had been working for about five years having left school at the age of eleven through winning a scholarship. His wages were 4s. 6d. a week, with board and lodging found.

John Stewart writes his life story on the pavement.

Then in 1914 came the Great War, and young John, then eighteen, enlisted and served until April 4, 1919. In 1917 he was decorated for bravery on the field. He was strangely reticent about this decoration and I like him for it. “There were thousands of Tommies who did much more than I did,” he told me, “but they were never seen doing it like I was. I did my duty and that sufficed,” His eldest brother was totally disabled during the war in the Air Force, and his sister lost her life when serving as a tram conductress in Newport.

The trolley runner of her tram became disconnected while descending the steep hill coming down into the town. The brave girl, knowing that possible death faced all the fifty passengers in the car, climbed on to the top of the tram. Somehow, with a courage born of desperation she succeeded in replacing the trolley roller. But trying to climb back into safety she slipped and fell into the roadway. She died from her injuries, but the lives of perhaps fifty people had been saved.

Another chapter from John Stewart’s daily writings

When the war ended, John looked for a job, but as soon as he had found something he was stricken down with blackwater fever and malaria, and for a long time was unfit for work. When he got back his health and strength he could find no work and in a moment of rashness stole a bicycle. To this day he doesn’t know why he did this stupid thing. For this petty crime he was sentenced to two months’ imprisonment, which he served at Cardiff, and this event changed his whole life.

When he came out he was looked upon as no good in his home town, and he was shunned by everybody. He decided to go away and sailed on board a ship as scullery man, peeling potatoes, etc. He remained at sea for a time and gradually worked his way up until he sat for and obtained his Chief Cook’s Certificate under the Board of Trade. “At last,” he thought. “I am back on my feet.” Then the shipping slump came, and like thousands of others he was destitute, without hope.  Mixing with other destitutes, he slid slowly into a life of crime and pilfering and served several small sentences.

Every day, for years John Stewart writes his biography on the pavement

Then he came up before Judge Whiteley, now at the Old Bailey, while he was at the London Sessions. This was the last time he was sentenced. The Judge was wise and kindly and told him to give up his life of crime and become a useful citizen again. “For a man of your general ability and brain to stand where you are now is a pity,” were the words Mr Stewart remembers. In prison, he mixed with all kinds of notorious criminals, but he never forgot the words of the Judge, and determined in future his life would be blameless. One cold, bleak December morning he was released with his fare back to London and what belongings he had. All the way back in the train, he told me, he cried for joy to be free again. He went home and was received like the prodigal son.

His mother had died while he was in prison and he had never been told. This was a shock, but his family were kind and soon he obtained a job. He had been there six weeks doing good work when his prison record was mysteriously placed in the hands of his employers and he was asked to leave. He found another Job and the same thing happened. Wherever he went the ghost of his past dogged his footsteps and blocked his path. I do honestly believe that it is not for want of trying that this man has been so unlucky. He is earning a bare living now by the only way he can—by writing his story on the paving stones of London for the entire world to see and read.

But people who stop to read cause a crowd and he has been told that he must not cause an obstruction. For several years now this man has gone absolutely straight in spite of hardship and bad luck. He is a trained workman and builder. He wants to use his hands and his head in a job which can give him back his self-respect and give him a chance to show what stuff he’s really made of. He has a bad record over a few years. That is the bogy that stands between him and a job and a chance in life, it’s the old, old story of “Give a dog a bad name . . .” But somewhere there must be someone who’s willing to give a lame dog a chance to get back on his feet again. That is why I print this story to-day, in case that someone may read this page.

Published in The Daily Mirror newspaper, England, Thursday, September 22nd 1938

Researched & transcribed by Philip Battle

Visit my Artists of The Paving Stone page on Facebook!

Childhood memories of the London Embankment

By JOHN RAYNOR

WHEN I was a small boy, and lived in London, I used to clamour to be taken along the Embankment by my nurse for the afternoon walk.

This was not because I particularly loved the river with its slow-moving traffic of unkempt barges, its white throngs of wheeling seagulls, its grimy wharves; or because there, where no traffic could drive, it was quiet, and little boys were in no great danger of sudden annihilation; or even because of the old man at the corner of Westminster Bridge who for a penny would let you peer through his glittering, brass-mounted telescope at the hands of Big Ben, and give you a dog-eared postcard of the great clock with a profound description of its works into the bargain.

No, it was for none of these reasons that I loved the Embankment; nor would I ever have revealed the real reason to any grown-up so impertinent and tactless as to inquire. Like all children I loved secrets, and the more harmless the secret, the more determined I was that it should never be dragged into the cold light of adult criticism.

By a cynicism born of long experience I knew that the revelation of any secret would be followed inevitably by prohibition, and so I was careful never to reveal the excitement that filled me, as, trotting demurely beside nurse (or on nurse’s afternoon out, mother), I espied far down the long stone path the man who drew such lovely pictures on the pavement.

As we approached him my heart would beat faster; I could feel the tell-tale excitement colouring my cheeks, and could only hope that if observed it would be put down to the breathless heat of summer or the cold winds of winter, according to the season.

London Embankment pavement artist (1950)

He sat, the old man, with his squat legs crossed; in front of him a battered tin cup; to his right a greasy cap filled with stubs of coloured chalk, and farther to his right a row of some four or five pictures of a gaiety and brilliance that had little connexion with the dull world of everyday materialism. I used to marvel at the old man’s energy in drawing them anew every day; weep mental tears of pity and sympathy at the thought of the cold-hearted rain that had the power to make a muddy puddle of his labours in five minutes. Most of all I used to wonder where he got his chalks, and why they always seemed to be worn down to their last quarter inch; the chalks I bought at the little toy shop in Marsham Street were always white, (” there ain’t no call for colours,” the proprietor would gloomily remark) and so long that though I broke them in half, ground them into the blackboard on the nursery wall, stamped on them even, it was weeks before I could legitimately go and buy more.

London Embankment pavement artist 1935

And the pictures themselves! I could find no words worthy of describing them. They lay there, each in its tortuous yellow frame a small miracle. There was “Eventide,” an elaborate confection of distant, sheep dotted fields; a blue river that rippled like a snake round the foot of the much pinnacled and spired church (a perfect example of rococo); and a shepherd with dog and crook; the whole lit by the glow of a sunset that is scarcely touched upon by the adjective lurid. For artistic reasons, this was my favourite.

There followed “His Majesty the King, God Bless Him”—a highly imaginative portrait—and others which I am ashamed to admit that I have forgotten. But the last of the row remains minutely detailed in my mind, because here my budding emotions were stirred to violent activity. It depicted a figure-of-eight loaf and a piece of ruddily-blushing salmon, each on a plate white as snow. It was titled “Easy to Draw but Hard to Get” I could never look at it for long because, tears welling to my eyes, it blurred, righted itself, blurred again, and I was in terror lest this moving piece should prove the downfall of my jealously-guarded secret.

“‘Ard to get ‘Im!”—nurse would toss her head- “‘c makes a good enough living, I’ll be bound. And ‘oo wants a loaf like that, let alone the butter?” With which cryptic, remark she would urge me onwards.

There came an afternoon when nurse met a friend and gossiping forgot me. Round the corner, I knew, sat the artist. I looked at nurse’s earnest face, and edged unobtrusively, along the high wall. When I reached the old man’s pictures I stared long and satisfyingly at them, till they had soaked into my existence and formed part of it.

Lady pavement artist: Thames Embankment 1930

Breathless with admiration, I moved on a few steps to stare in turn at their creator. He sat hunched up as usual, unmoving, a red scarf supporting his bristly grey beard; a leather boot on his left foot; his right thrust into a velvet slipper. I felt in my pocket. There was a penny in it. I would give it to him. A warm glow of satisfaction flooded me as I dropped the coin into the ringing tin cup. The grey lips parted, moved. “Thankee, kind sir.”

Reluctantly I turned away. I had much to think of. I had been called “sir” by the man I most admired…..

Why could not I wear one leather boot and one velvet slipper? Why could not I sit all day, in sight of the passers-by, in sound of the seagulls, and chalk beautiful pictures on the paving stones? I could and I would— when I was grown up. The words were magic in my head. “When I am grown up! When I am grown up!”—they circled like rings of coloured light around me; they rang in my ears like the tune of an old song.

London Embankment Screever: Postcard 1915

Back to nurse I edged my cautious steps. “She’s ‘ad one too many already come to that; I don’t know ‘ow she’ll manage with another on the way,” she was saying. I saw by the expression on her face that I was unobserved. My secret was safe.

Safe till today, that is. For, turning the pages of a contemporary magazine, I saw, some pictures that put me in mind of the old man’s. Suddenly I realised that it had fallen to me to make a great discovery. Proudly I sat down to record this reminiscence of the first Surrealist, and his greatest admirer.

Published in the Spectator Magazine: 1st JANUARY 1937

Researched by Philip Battle

Visit my Artists of The Paving Stone page on Facebook!

Poem for a London Screever

Lament for the unknown PAVEMENT ARTIST of World War I (1914-1918)

The Pavement Artist: Illustration 1912

[This artist, who was distinguished by the scope and freedom of his work, enlisted in the Army in 1914, and has not since returned to his usual place.]

BEFORE half-seeing eyes and hurrying feet

Five years ago in daily sacrifice

He laid the willows and the meadow-sweet:

Now he is gone, and all his sunlit skies

Are with the dust that floats along the street.

All vanished are the low-hushed tropic vales;

The glinting kingfisher; the lions’ den;

And Nelson with his powder-blackened men

Gliding to action under tattered sails:

And near to these the wide Pacific calm,

And mirrored islands, where the tilted moon

Had left her trellis on the dark lagoon,

And sheathed in silver mail the tufted palm:

And divers groping on black ocean floors,

Whose loaded feet slowly as feathers fall

Through the stern pressing water, and the tall

Deep-sunken ribs of wreck, where rusted doors

Are clamped on hidden gold: and sightless things

That flicker through the deep, where bubbles race

Up to the green light of the sun’s embrace

And burst beneath the seagull’s dipping wings.

And here were rainbows dancing in the spray

And coral pillars from the deep-sea bed

Gashing the crested surf in gleams of red;

And elephants with lordly gait a-sway

Rocking their loads along dark forest ways;

The moth poised on the lily, and the pale

Diffused starlight on the nightingale

Half-shadowed by the leaf from heaven’s gaze.

And here the flying squirrel left the trees

To take his arrowy high road through the sky;

Here armadillos walked, and peccaries,

And other creatures, stranger far than these,

But not more strange than you, who travelled by I

Great things and little from the undying Mind,

Toys fashioned in the morning of the earth,

Imagined by the gods, and brought to birth

For childhood in themselves or in mankind.

Artist, to some far garden are you gone

To find the great originals of these,

Under the streamers of the western sun,

Immortal butterflies, unfading trees?

by HERBERT ASCHRTH.

Published in the Spectator Magazine 21^st August 1920

Researched and transcribed by Philip Battle

Visit my Artists of The Paving Stone page on Facebook!

The Picturesque Tramp!

In his book, illustrator and writer Geoffrey Fletcher sets off on a tour of unfamiliar London, sketching and describing the changing scene before it changes beyond recall. His subject is one that has long held an important place in the imagination of London lovers.

It is the world of Mayhew, the world of the street cries, the London of the busker, the barrow boy, the street artist, the tramp. Everyone who earns (or fails to earn) a living pounding London’s pavements

Book Cover; published 1967

A collection of forty drawings of real pavement pounders

Girl Pavement Artists, Cecil Court

Illustration by Geoffrey Fletcher

They and the young men who also make a pitch on the stones are often art students trying to raise the wind, but a few have graduated, as it were, to full-time pavement art as a career.

Curiously, the art of these younger exponents often takes on the character of traditional pavement chalking, perhaps because landscapes, once formalised and learned by heart, can be easily repeated.

Pavement Artist at Work, Trafalgar Square

Illustration by Geoffrey Fletcher

He told me he was seventy-three and that he had been a pavement artist all his life. Never wanted to be anything else; he spoke in a soft Edinburgh accent.

“I’ve been away two years; I haven’t been well, but I’m back again now. I’ve worked in other parts, but nearly always in London. Used to be outside the National Gallery, where I did Constable. I used to do copies of Constable. I do horses, dogs and other animals. The children like animals best, and give me money. I’m only playing about today, you might say. I haven’t prepared the stone.”

He told me the thing was to coat the flag with cold water size, and then, while it was wet, to rub the surface down with Bath brick or soft stone. “That gives it a smooth surface, makes the chalks sparkle. Makes them bright and clear, y’know. These pastels are too hard, I like soft ones, but everything’s gone up and I can’t afford them. Oh yes, I always clean off the stones. I won the prize for the best pavement artist In London”

The Tipster of Tavistock Square

Illustration by Geoffrey Fletcher

You find him here in all weathers, winter and summer alike, offering his racing tips and little drawings of jockeys at the corner of Tavistock Square.

He’s been here for thirty years “I became a combined tipster and pavement artist because I had the talent, and because I believe in independence. Some people buy my drawings. I don’t go to the races now. I have my regulars who come to see me and leave something in my cap.”

Illustration by Geoffrey Fletcher

London’s Pavement Pounders (currently out of print) was published in 1967 by Hutchinson & Co Ltd, London

Researched by Philip Battle

Visit my Artists of The Paving Stone page on Facebook!

An American travel writer’s account

PAVEMENT artists in London offer a most unusual sight to the visitor from other lands. There is no such industry in any other country. A handful of colored chalks, a clean unbroken pavement-stone and a fine day are all that the trade demands—except the attention of the passer-by, who bestows his friendly pence. The London Standard newspaper reckons that at least £300 a week-$1500– (£30.000 today)  is given to these artists, though few individuals make as much as $5 a week (£300 today).

The Victoria Embankment is a favourite “pitch” for these lowly brethren of the art world. The artists vary greatly in their talent, even as do their brothers at the Royal Academy. One of the artists on the Embankment was a youth of 18, a French polisher out of work, who said that he had only been in the business a week and his pictures showed it. They were of the kind with ships and rocks and a bright pink border round that an intelligent child of five might do in a copybook. But the new recruit said that he was picking up fast, by dint of watching others. He evidently intended to specialize on ships, and had a copybook in his pocket which showed them of all rigs, one of his border ornaments was a block and tackle, which he had copied out of the same book.

Victoria Embankment pavement artist: TUCK Oilette postcard Cir.1912

In some cases real talent is shown, and one of the men had drawn quite a striking landscape with a sunset. Black and white is now in vogue, and all round the artists are certainly improving. The traditional robin redbreasts standing out in a winter landscape of white chalk are not so often seen, and there is more attention given to portraiture. The King and the Prince of Wales and now the missing Louvre picture with smiles of varying widths being favourite subjects. (On August 21, 1911, Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona Lisa, was stolen from the Louvre, Paris)

One man does not draw at all, but on a black background chalks wise maxims in a copper plate hand. The hurrying pedestrian who sees “More haste, less speed,” chalked on the pavement is likely to halt and recognize this timely reminder by the gift of a penny.

Originally published in the Christian Science Monitor, USA (28^th October 1911)

Researched by Philip Battle

Visit my Artists of The Paving Stone page on Facebook!

England’s first Lady Pavement Artist

Ever since I discovered the story of Alice Geneviève Coleman, I’ve been intrigued to find out more. There are very few people who can truly be considered the first or a pioneer in their field, but Alice is one of those rare individuals who ‘paved the way’ and saw the future for pavement art. Not just to be considered a ‘beggars art’ but as a serious art form within its own right.

Alice’s great dream was to travel the world through her art, something that’s taken for granted in today’s world-wide pavement art movement; but back in London, in the late 1800’s this was unheard of!

Alice Coleman Cir. 1914

Alice was London’s first ever documented lady pavement artist. The very idea of a respectable lady, on all fours “begging for alms” in return for little chalk drawings on the streets of London was a shock to conservative Victorian England. Her antics predated the lady suffragette Chalkers by over 20 years.

Alice was born in London in 1874 and christened Alice Geneviève Temple. Her first love was the theatre, and in her early teens she joined a touring theatre group, where she met her husband, a fellow performer and acrobat Robert Coleman. They married in 1891 and set up home at 175 Bransford Street, Kensington. By 1901 they had three children (Maud, Alice and Mal)

Actress Alice Geneviève Temple, aged 17 Cir. 1891

According to Alice “My father and mother were both in the theatrical profession, and early in life I was left to the charge of my grandmother, with whom I lived until I left school at the age of 14, when I obtained a situation as a clerk to a neighbouring butcher, and soon after fell in love with a travelling acrobat; but my grandmother objecting to my marrying anyone connected with the profession followed by my parents, I was sent away to some friends residing a little distance from London. This, however, proved useless, and at the age of 17 I was married and joined my husband in his performances.”

Of course an actor’s life is not always a happy one, and as of today, is often low paid and intermittent work. By 1897, her husband Robert was forced to give up his job as an acrobat, due to ill health, and began work as a pavement artist, indeed Robert stated his full time profession on the 1901 census as being “pavement artist”

1901 Census: Alice & Robert Coleman registered profession as Pavement artist

As Alice herself stated in 1897 “I was always very fond of drawing when at school, and took great interest in my husband’s artistic work, so that when he became too ill to go out, and it became necessary for me to do something to keep the wolf from the door”

Alice’s living room at 175 Bransford Street, Kensington Cir. 1893

Alice became such an unusual sight on the streets of London that she soon became a celebrity in her own right, and was featured in all the major publications of the day. She even became a tourist attraction, with her image being printed on thousands of postcards. In 1909, she won first prize in the world’s first ever recorded pavement art competition at Fun City, Olympia.

Alice Coleman postcard: Cir. 1912. Photo by Bob Thomas

By 1911, Alice and family had moved to a tiny two roomed house at 48 Matilda Street, Islington.  By this time Robert was described as a “scene painter” probably casual work in and around London Theatre land. Alice had five children by 1911, but only one, (Maud) had survived. Childhood mortality was high at the turn of the century.

Her husband Robert died on the 1^st July 1914 at the early age of 50. Alice carried on as a pavement artist and performer well into middle age. At 47, she remarried Walter Henry Oxley on the 10th August 1921.

Alice Coleman with Albert Shattock (actor) Cir. 1921

Alice died in Islington, London on the 31^st January 1934, she was aged 60. Like all pavement artists, she was forgotten; her work was considered to lowly to record.

But not today; I’m pleased to have found Alice, and presented her story to you, here for the first time. Alice’s dream was to travel the world and for her art to be recognised…..in a way, through the power of the internet, she has.

Written & researched by Philip Battle

Related Blogs: Alice G. Coleman (1893)  A Woman’s Realm (1902)  The Pavement Artists Academy (1909) DAY IN THE LIFE OF A LADY PAVEMENT ARTIST (1912)

VISIT MY ARTISTS OF THE PAVING STONE PAGE ON FACEBOOK!

But They Get The Hiding They Earned!

In the lead up to World War II, Europe was in the grip of a Fascist uprising, not just in Germany and Italy, but many other countries had a significant organised Fascist movement.  In Britain we had the Blackshirts, led by a charismatic follower of Hitler, Oswald Mosley.

Unlike any other art-form, pavement artists where adept at taking the nations pulse, and soon started creating anti-fascist art on the streets. They quickly became a target for the fascists and would often be beaten up, robbed and their works destroyed.

Anti-fascist wartime screever Arthur Webb (1939)

Many pavement artists were also recruited by the British Communist Party, who’s publication THE DAILY WORKER would become a rallying call to anti-fascist sentiment.

This is one pavement artists story from 1934:     

I have now lost count of the number of times I have been attacked in the course of my work as pavement artist by hordes of howling Blackshirt Dervishes. In the past they have fractured one of my ribs, given my poor old eye a periodic discoloration, and in various ways decorated my face, because of the working-class features I specialise in.

Oswald Mosley and his “Blackshirts” Cir. 1935

You will therefore appreciate that I am continually on my guard against them now, and so it happened that when they swooped down on me in their maniacal fury, in Kilburn High Road, on Saturday night, they got the surprise of their worthless young lives.

A group of Y.C.L.ers, (Young Communist League) who invariably follow me around now with DAILY WORKERS, sailed into the raiders and meted out summary chastisement, but what pleased me more was the readiness of so many workers who chanced to be passing at the time to signify their deep hatred and contempt of these Fascist toughs by coming in to the fight with all the inherent revolutionary instinct of the workers, and giving the Blackshirts a taste of their own physic.

My “pitch” was wrecked in the scuffle that ensued, but the Blackshirts were unmercifully belaboured and chased the whole length of the High Road.

British anti-fascist mural Cir. 1934

One enterprising Party comrade, after  the “shemozzle,” seeing large groups of workers indignantly discussing this latest act of terrorism on the part of the Blackshirts, sheered off home and returned in a few minutes with a platform  and a large and enthusiastic meeting wound up an exciting Saturday night.

Published in The Daily Worker, UK (Tuesday 12^th June 1934)

Researched by Philip Battle

VISIT MY ARTISTS OF THE PAVING STONE PAGE ON FACEBOOK!