Today in pulp... I look back at the 1930s magazine that was a trailblazer for modern photo-led journalism: VU. #SundayThoughts
First published in Paris in 1928 VU was a magazine that put the photograph first. Over 3,000 photos were used in its first year of publication alone.
The timing was auspicious: the Leica 1 camera had been released in 1925 and the Rolleiflex would launch in 1929. High quality portable photography was making its breakthrough and VU magazine would pioneer it's journalistic use.
Lucien Vogel had worked on a range of illustrated magazines before he founded VU in 1928. He also had an interest in Constructivism. VU would use this approach to pioneer the use of photo-essays as a way of understanding world events.
The range of photographers Vogel assembled for VU is breathtaking: Man Ray, Henri Cartier-Bresson, André Kertész and Gyula Halász (Brassaï) all produced work for the magazine at some point.
However VU would rise to fame for its political coverage. Special issues on Soviet Russia, Fascist Italy and Nazi Germany brought home the rise of dictatorships through photography.
Double page photo spreads were use extensively by VU to construct a narrative of what was happening in in the world, reflecting Lucien Vogel's belief in constructionist composition to tell stories.
In particular VU brought home the events of the Spanish civil war to French readers. A number of issues were dedicated to the conflict.
Gerda Taro was one of the early women pioneers of #photojournalism, and her images published in VU magazine showed the real life struggles of the Republican army. Taro died in 1937 during the army's retreat from Brunete.
Taro's partner Robert Capa took one of the defining images of the Spanish civil war during the 1937 Battle of Brunete: "The Falling Soldier." VU magazine was the first outlet to publish it.
VU wasn't all politics however; it looked at how life was changing in the 1930s, from mass consumerism to mass unemployment. It's an invaluable record for historians.
The last issue of VU was published on 29 May 1940. Two weeks later Paris was occupied by German troops. The magazine that had charted the rise of European dictatorships finally succumbed to one.
If you'd like to learn more about VU magazine and the birth of photojournalism MOMA has done a recent retrospective here: moma.org/interactives/o…
More stories another time...
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Today in pulp I'm looking back at a very popular (and collectable) form of art: Micro Leyendas covers!
Micro Leyendas (mini legends) are a Mexican form of fumetto, small graphic novels normally pitting the everyday hero against the weird, the occult and the unfathomable.
The art of Micro Leyendas is bold, macabre and very funny. The books often tell a cautionary tale of revenge or humiliation, much like a modern folk tale.
Today in pulp: what makes a good opening sentence for a pulp novel?
Now this is a tricky one…
The opening sentence has an almost mythical status in writing. Authors agonise for months, even years, about crafting the right one. Often it’s the last thing to be written.
Which is odd, because very few people abandon a book if they don’t like the first sentence. It’s not like the first sip of wine that tells you if the Grand Cru has been corked! Most people at least finish Chapter One.
The Time Machine, Brave New World, 1984: these weren’t the first dystopian novels. There's an interesting history of Victorian and Edwardian literature looking at the impact of modernity on humans and finding it worrying.
Today in pulp I look at some early dystopian books…
Paris in the Twentieth Century, written in 1863, was the second novel penned by Jules Verne. However his publisher Pierre-Jules Hetzel rejected it as too gloomy. The manuscript was only discovered in 1994 when Verne’s grandson hired a locksmith to break into an old family safe.
The novel, set in 1961, warns of the dangers of a utilitarian culture. Paris has street lights, motor cars and the electric chair but no artists or writers any more. Instead industry and commerce dominate and citizens see themselves as cogs in a great economic machine.
In January 1919 a new magazine heralded the dawn of the Weimar era. Its aesthetic was a kind of demented Jugendstil, and its stories were dark gothic fantasies.
This is the story of Der Orchideengarten...
Der Orchideengarten: Phantastische Blätter (The orchid garden: fantastic pages) is probably the first ever fantasy magazine. Published in Munich by Dreiländerverlag, a trial issue appeared in 1918 before the first full 24 page edition was published in January 1919.
"The orchid garden is full of beautiful - now terribly gruesome, now satirically pleasing - graphic jewelery" announced the advanced publicity. It was certainly a huge departure from the Art Nouveau of Jugend magazine, which German readers were already familiar with.