Howard Pyle

Howard Pyle, "Dead Men Tell no Tales," illustration for a story of the same name by Morgan Robertson, Collier's, December 17, 1899. The oil painting is in the Kelly Collection of American Illustration. Implicit in this narrative is the impending doom of the k

American illustrator, writer, and teacher. 1853-1911.

Often called the “father of American Illustration.” A Quaker from Wilmington, Delaware, Pyle began his illustrating and writing career in New York toward the end of the commercial wood engraving era, arriving in the mid-1870s. After establishing himself as an illustrator and reporter for Harper’s Weekly, Pyle returned to Delaware in 1880 and set up shop producing material for the family house magazines like Harper’s and Scribner’s, as well as for the children’s magazine St. Nicholas.

Howard Pyle, The Ant and the Grasshopper, cover illustration, Harper’s Weekly, December 29, 1883.

Howard Pyle, Marooned, illustration for "Buccaneers and Marooners of the Spanish Main," written by Howard Pyle. Harper's Magazine August-September 1887. This wood engraving is Pyle’s first treatment of this image. A more forlorn version was painted in 1909.

Howard Pyle, Marooned, oil on canvas, 1909. In the collection of the Delaware Art Museum, which has an extensive collection of Pyle works.

Pyle’s most significant works fall roughly into three subject categories. 1) Medieval romances, including, especially his own version of Robin Hood with illustrations, from 1883; 2) serial pirate stories and articles, including The Rose of Paradise (1887), famously “Dead Men Tell No Tales,” in Collier’s in 1899, and The Ruby of Kishmoor (written in the 1890’s, published in 1907; and 3) works of American history, from the early Colonial period through the Civil War era. A meticulous researcher, Pyle illustrated Harper’s articles by Woodrow Wilson on the Revolutionary era, and famously corrected the future president’s texts in spots. Pyle’s visualizations of trappers, frontiersmen, soldiers, and other types–to say nothing of his reconstructions of historical events, like the Battle of Bunker Hill–became accepted historical fact and lodged in the American consciousness. Likewise, his visual treatments of buccaneers and pirates very quickly became archetypal figures in the popular mind, influencing subsequent illustrators and film directors. He served briefly as art editor for McClure’s in 1905.

Pyle’s greatest influence may be as a teacher. He offered an illustration class the Drexel Institute of Arts and Sciences in Philadelphia in the winter of 1894 (having been rebuffed by the Pennsylvania Academy of Art). Among his first students were Violet Oakley, Jessie Wilcox Smith, Elizabeth Shippen Green, and Maxfield Parrish. Pyle started his own school in Wilmington in 1900. He and his charges summered in Chadds Ford, Pennsylvania, in the Brandywine Valley. Long afterwards dubbed “the Brandywine School of American Illustration,” Pyle’s instructional studios became an incubator for many influential illustrators and future teachers of illustration, including N.C. Wyeth, Frank Schoonover, Harvey Dunn, Dean Cornwell, and others.

Many, many column inches have been written about Pyle, whose influence is hard to overstate. That said, his legacy is marked by a curious backward-looking character passed on to most of his disciples. Despite his avid adoption of new platemaking technologies during a period of burgeoning print production, he remained focused on the past.

The Norman Rockwell Museum history of illustration project entry for Pyle concludes with his transition to mural painting. (Below.) The NRM account is accurate, but does not capture the fall-off in business experienced by Pyle from 1905. He ran a big household, and the work was drying up. The misadventure in art direction at McClure’s was one attempt to respond. Mural painting was another.

As early as 1900 Howard Pyle began thinking beyond the confines of illustration. The 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago featured a significant number of murals, sparking a nationwide interest in public art. Pyle’s first commission, for the Minnesota Capital Building in St. Paul, was completed in 1906…[An independent project embraced] academic subject [matter] and Beaux-Arts execution…Several additional mural commissions followed, prompting Pyle’s decision to travel to Italy to study European art.

Howard Pyle, The Battle of Nashville, 1906. Minnesota Statehouse, Saint Paul, Minnesota.

Pyle’s Italian sojourn ended abruptly with his death in 1911 in Florence. My colleague Jeff Pike has played a part in recognizing Pyle-as-Florentine, described in this blog post at Graphic Tales.


Howard Pyle, There is a Flock of Yellow Birds Around Her Head, 1892. Illustration for “Giles Corey, Yeoman, by Mary E. Wilkins, Harper’s New Monthly, December 1892. This is the grisaille painting, which accounts for the warm brown cast to the image. The halftone (Viewing the Battle of Bunker Hill below, for comparison) is less atmospheric.

Howard Pyle, Viewing the Battle of Bunker Hill, halftone illustration from grisaille painting. Appeared in “Colonies and Nation,” by Woodrow Wilson, Harper’s New Monthly, October 1901. The relationship between this source painting, the halftone exposure, and the artifact of the printing plate is discussed in my book Stick Figures: Drawing as a Human Practice. See Chapter 3, “The Printed Image,” pages 68-71.

Howard Pyle, Guarded by Rough English Soldiers, story illustration for Saint Joan of Arc, by Mark Twain. Harper’s New Monthly, December 1904. I photographed this painting at the Brandywine Museum in September 2019. It’s a useful picture to use to reflect on how illustrations work. The two soldiers occupy space in the foreground, formally blocking an escape. But they are much larger than Joan, at left, and relative scale does not seem to have been managed systematically. In fact, they entire space falls apart on inspection. How does the wall work at right? Is it a doorway? Is it the darkened back corner of the room? Beats me. The picture is really an assemblage of characters, two foreclosing the exit of another. The spatial logic of the room is given short shrift, to keep the viewer focused on character and story. Pyle does not care about the specifics of the interior, and it shows.

Howard Pyle, Then the Real Fight Began, story illustration for “Pennsylvania’s Defiance of the United States,” by Hampton L. Carson. October 1908. Four-color halftone reproduction. Picking up on the discussion in the last caption, re: Joan of Arc, look at the relationship between the sailors and the deck. Do those feet sit on that surface? Does light fall on that deck? Not really—there are no shadows or gradations. Again, Pyle is much less focused on mass and weight than he is on story.

Production plates for Then the Real Fight Began. 1908. The four-color halftone reproduction for the project was printed successively from these four copper plates, photo-etched from color separations in a then relatively new photomechanical color platemaking and printing process now known as CMYK. The color balance was still a little shaky. The color print (above) looks somewhat little acidic. These plates and many others like them are part of the Walt Reed Illustration Archive at the Dowd Modern Graphic History Library at Washington University.

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