Back to the City

June and Art is a limited-duration blog which began on September 25, 2010 and will conclude in early September 2011.  As we enter the final three months of the blog, the pace will quicken, compressing over a years’ worth of life and courtship into just a few months.  This month, we highlight a run of June and Art letters from July and August 1950.

After a month in Riverhead following her Traphagen graduation, June returned to New York City to look for work…

Monday, July 10, 1950

112 West 86th Street

New York City, NY

Dear Art,

June Anderson.

I’m very tired today, not too surprising since I got up at 5:00 this morning for the train.  And then I wandered all over New York in the rain.  I’m quite worn out.  I’m going to bed right after this letter.  Honestly, darling.

I have to buy a hat and gloves tomorrow, so I don’t suppose I’ll have too much time for job hunting.  I’ll just go to that one man who said there might be an opening and get it over with.

It’s nice to be together with Shirl and Betty Newling again.  Betty had a permanent and her hair looks very good.  Shirl had one too but it came out kinky, so she cut it all off.  It’s certainly short now!

Before I go any further, darling, I love you and miss you very much already.  I’ve been following the war news, listening to it with half-closed ears.  I just pray they won’t take you.  I’ll feel terrible if you’re taken away from me.

Take care of yourself, darling, and no flirting with Mr. Secunda’s pretty girls.

Good night and all my love,

June

(Tomorrow – adding pictures to the wallet.)

© 2011 Lee Price

A Pause in the Correspondence

Following graduation, June left her apartment in New York City and returned home to Riverhead.  As with all June’s vacations and long weekends, there’s no June-Art correspondence when they’re seeing each other regularly.  As Art recently wrote:

“I’d rather see you than write.”

                                  Art Price

                                  Letter to June Anderson, May 15, 1950

Up until this point, the “June and Art” blog has maintained a posting schedule directly corresponding to their unfolding relationship (minus 61 years).  The final months of this limited duration blog (eleven months, from September 2010 to September 2011) will condense fifteen months (June 1950 – September 1951) into three.

There will be more letters – they just won’t follow the calendar as accurately as before.  Starting Monday, “June and Art” will leap forward one month to showcase their love letters of July-August 1950, covering the period when June returned to Manhattan that summer.

(For Monday – Manhattan job hunting.)

© 2011 Lee Price

 

The Rolled Nudes

Charcoal sketch by June Anderson.

Cross-posted on Preserving a Family Collection.  Please note that the images on Preserving a Family Collection are more explicit than the images chosen (and cropped) for this blog.

Flashback:  Back in spring 1949, June took a course at Traphagen School of Fashion where she learned to draw the nude human body.  Women models posed fully nude.  Male models were drawn nude when depicted from the rear.  Frontal views of men featured discreet coverings.  The drawings were oversized and were probably rolled into cylinders for storage soon after they were drawn.  The course ended in late May;  June met Art that Memorial Day.

At some point, the rolled nudes were all stuffed into a large plastic bag.  They disappeared into long-term storage.  I first looked at them a year ago, pulling out several to see what they were.  I didn’t look at many because they were unwieldy and fragile.  There are approximately fifty of these rolled nudes in our family collection.

Last week, I brought six of the rolled nudes into the Conservation Center for Art and Historic Artifacts for examination and treatment recommendations by Senior Conservator Soyeon Choi.  I selected the six pieces randomly, sight unseen, and carried them to the Center in a black plastic trash bag.

Soyeon unrolled the oversized drawings, one by one.  She used heavy transparent acrylic blocks to hold down the edges, preventing them from scrolling back up.  For the first time, I could see the nudes clearly.  According to the grades on most of them, this is “A” work.

All charcoal sketches by June Anderson.
Uncropped pictures on the companion blog,
Preserving a Family Collection.

(For Sunday – a pause in the correspondence.)
 

© 2011 Lee Price

Graduation Day!

June graduated from Traphagen School of Fashion on Thursday, June 1, 1950.  We have no idea if she attended the ceremony or simply had the diploma mailed to her.  We don’t know if Art or her parents came into the city to share the occasion with her.

But we do have the diploma, so we know with certainty that she “satisfactorily completed the two year course in costume design and illustration.”  The diploma is signed by the school’s founder, Ethel Traphagen.

From 61 years later, “Happy Graduation Day!”

(For Friday – time rushes forward.)
 

© 2011 Lee Price

Traphagen Highlights

By the end of May 1950, June successfully completed all requirements for graduation from Traphagen School of Fashion.

As we near the 61st anniversary of June’s graduation, this entry celebrates her work with a small selection of some of her finest fashion illustrations from her time at Traphagen.  Many of these are previously unpublished, a few are being reposted with better image quality, and a couple are simply favorites that we felt like reposting because they’re so good!

(For Wednesday – Happy Graduation!)
 

© 2011 Lee Price

Unveiling the Cape



June in her self-designed blue-and-white checked cape.



In March 1950, June undertook one of her most ambitious Traphagen projects – designing and creating a blue-and-white checked cape.

“After school, Shirl and I are going to look for some cloth for my cape.  If we find it, we’ll probably cut it out that night.”

       June Anderson

       Letter to Art Price, March 21, 1950

“After school, Shirl and I went down to Hester Street today to buy material.  She bought material for some dresses.  I bought the fabric for my cape.  People will turn to look when I come along in my big checks.  Have you ever seen a checkerboard horse blanket?  Well, that’s what I have – in blue and white!  I don’t care what people think – I like it.  We already cut out the pattern tonight.  It was loads of fun.”

       June Anderson

       Letter to Art Price, March 22, 1950

“Well, I called up Daddy today and told him the bad news – that I bought some expensive cloth for my cape.  He was very sweet about it – didn’t yell my head off…  Both Shirl and I have been working on the cape tonight.  We’re tired now.”

                                                                                   June Anderson

                                                                                   Letter to Art Price, March 23, 1950

The cape became one of June’s favorite possessions.  After finishing the cape, she wore it often.  We don’t know what other people thought of it – or if they really did turn to look when the big-checked cape passed by – but it’s obvious that June wore it with pride.

(For Monday – Traphagen memories.)
 

© 2011 Lee Price

Missing You Is a Chronic Condition

Quick sketches by June Anderson.

Thursday, May 25, 1950

112 West 86th Street

New York City, NY

Dear Art,

Quick sketch by
June Anderson.

I feel much better tonight, darling.  We all went to the movies and saw a couple of revivals.  Evie bought a lot of clothes so she felt better.  I’ve been working very hard at school and I’m feeling very tired.

Shirl’s going out tonight.  A friend of mine might come over.  If she does, we’ll do homework together.  I have plenty but I’m not going to worry about it.  I should be able to finish everything on time.

Seriously, there’s nothing much to tell you.  I guess nothing happens to me except when I’m with you.  Then there’s too much, and all too wonderful to tell.  Missing you is becoming a chronic condition with me.  It’s because I love you so much.  What more can I say?

I hope you have my compact and comb with you on Friday night.  I’m sure I left them with you.  Look through your pockets.  Maybe we’d better start tying strings around our fingers on Sunday nights – I didn’t expect that you’d be just as forgetful as I am!

I’ll be seeing you very soon.  I hope the time flies till then.

All my love,

June

(For Saturday – Unveiling the cape.)
 

© 2011 Lee Price