A Fresh Look at J.C. Leyendecker

I recently came across this insightful and well-researched YouTube video about illustrator J.C. Leyendecker by Kaz Rowe, a cartoonist, illustrator and YouTube historian and commentator.

< p>J.C. Leyendecker was one of the giants of American illustration in the early 20th century. Responsible for the iconic Arrow Collar Man ad campaign, his covers for the Saturday Evening Post and work in other venues served to mainstream the image of jolly old Santa Claus as we know him today, as well as the images and traditions of Baby New Year, flowers on Mother’s Day and July 4th fireworks. While many of his images remain iconic, the artist himself has largely been forgotten except among hardcore illustrator (and some comics) circles. It should be noted that Norman Rockwell, who succeeded Leyendecker as the defining cover artist for the Saturday Evening Post, idolized Leyendecker and became friends with him.

Leyendecker has been somewhat forgotten due to the very private nature of the artist himself, likely because he likely led a closeted life. Much of Rowe’s work looks at history through an LGBTQ lens, so they approach Leyendecker’s life from a fresh perspective with insight and sensitivity. The video covers the somewhat scandalous and dysfunctional nature of his family and siblings, as well as his art training (he spent time in France, mixing with contemporaries like Alphonse Mucha) and the incredible success he achieved as an illustrator. It then segues to his relationship with model Charles Beach, who was the basis for many of the idealized male figures found in Leyendecker’s work, including the Arrow Collar Man himself. Beach’s role gradually evolved from model to artist’s assistant, personal secretary, financial manager, and he even acted as an agent of sorts for Leyendecker, sharing his home for 50 years until the artist’s death.

Little is known about Beach, or indeed the nature of his relationship with Leyendecker. Amazingly, no photographs of Beach are known to exist, aside from one late in life from a newspaper article, years after Leyendecker had passed. Rowe’s thorough research uncovers some details of his early life before he was discovered and hired as a model by Leyendecker’s brother. What little else is known about Beach comes from Norman Rockwell’s memoir, which labeled Beach as “a real parasite," reinforcing the belief that Beach was the cause for the wedge between Leyendecker and his siblings (and, later, the outside world). But Rowe examines their relationship with more nuance—Leyendecker was always very private and probably moreso given his need, as a public figure, to protect his personal life. In the newspaper story referenced earlier, Beach clearly still deeply missed his friend and took great pride in helping him in his career and life.

Like many artists, I’ve always admired Leyendecker’s work. As I mentioned, Rockwell idolized Leyendecker although their work was very different—whereas Rockwell primarily tried to capture a small town Americana in his work, Leyendecker reflected a more idealized, cosmopolitan world (indeed, many of his figures possess the kind of heroic proportions that would not be out of place in a superhero comic book). I was fortunate to see a traveling exhibition of Leyendecker’s work that came to California in 2007 (organized by the Norman Rockwell Museum) and have one of the early books on Leyendecker that Rowe references in their video, J.C. Leyendecker, by Michael Schau.

Anyone with an interest in Leyendecker may find this of interest, though it does focus more on his biography than his work. I should mention that while many of Rowe’s videos are LGBTQ-related, this is not exclusively so. I first came across their channel due to a fun and interesting video they produced on the making of the 1939 musical film adaptation of Wizard of Oz, and enjoyed another that demystified the myths surrounding the Winchester Mystery House.