Typically considered emblematic of bad taste and routinely used as an example of anti-art, black velvet art is a guilty pleasure. So often, fine art is characterized as being the opposite of a Velvis, a picture of Elvis on a black velvet background. Even folklorists, as the author points out, people who routinely champion artistic creation that comes from outside the mainstream, have been known to look down on black velvet. Thus, enjoying this book provides a form of pleasure akin to the art itself. And the book is enjoyable: it is rich in gorgeous reproductions of both entire paintings and details. Even the cover is black and velvety (though not the velvet of paintings). Paging through it one can easily get a black velvet “fix.”
The book begins with an acknowledgement of black velvet’s low status in the art world. This is followed by a very short section on technique. We learn that the best painters learn a trade secret that allows them to apply color while keeping the individual “hairs” of the velvet separate, and that painting on a rich black background requires a keen awareness of negative space. A short history of black velvet lists the locations where it was found in the distant past, then moves on to what is better known, namely the twentieth century and black velvet in the South Pacific and Mexico. It is possible that a single individual, Edgar Leeteg, a beachcomber living in Tahiti, started the black velvet craze, which was then brought to Mexico by American sailors. But it is also possible that it began in Tijuana, Mexico, which claims to be the home of the first Elvis on velvet. In any case, the demand for black velvet was fuelled by the need to decorate tiki bars and by tourists and members of the American military seeking exotic souvenirs. Mexican velvet flourished in the 1970s, and “factories” that would produce paintings by the assembly-line method sprang up. In these, each “artist” was responsible for one element of a particular image, and multiple paintings of the same subject were churned out. The factories did not kill serious black velvet art, and with the end of the black velvet fad the tradition continues, though not on the same scale. In recent times there has been a tendency to feature Mexican themes such as the legend of two mountains outside Tijuana that are supposed to be the petrified remains of ill-fated lovers.
The section on the history of black velvet is followed by a discussion of velvet as folk art. Eric Eliason points out that commodification, the fact that such paintings are often made to be sold rather than to be enjoyed personally by the painter, creates problems for folklorists. He discusses the relationship between velvet and pop culture and debates whether or not black velvet is kitsch or could be considered camp. He concludes by saying that, if velvet loses its status as anti-art, then some other art form will need to fill that position.
Next comes a series of portraits of black velvet people. These are primarily artists, though we learn about entrepreneurs, one of whom, William Travis Robinson, managed to sneak black velvet paintings of political leaders into the 1996 Republican National Convention and to make quite a few sales. There is also a touching portrait of a collector, a man who, while quite ill, ran across a black velvet Elvis, experienced an immediate response, and began to amass and display black velvet art.
The section on black velvet paintings makes up the bulk of the book. It is grouped by categories, the first being matadors and Mexicana, including banditos and the lovers turned to stone already mentioned. Another category is landscapes, and this is preceded by an interesting discussion of the type of scenery that seems to have universal appeal. The portraits section features celebrities but also images of the painter’s family, images that are, in fact, painted for their creator’s personal enjoyment. Elvis (or Velvis) gets his own section, and there is a section on and , pictures of little children, often with enlarged pupils. Creatures, the subject of the next section, can be frightening, like snarling tigers, or they can be cute, again with enlarged pupils or shown in costume and doing human activities such as playing pool or cards. Religious paintings mostly feature Jesus, though the Virgin is also a black velvet subject, as are members of the clergy and saints. Ladies, the subject of the next section, can appear in portraits or be portrayed as nudes. The richness of velvet is particularly suited for capturing the voluptuousness of the female body, and such paintings were especially popular with servicemen. The last section is horrors, not demons, though these can be found in this section, but bad paintings, poorly executed or in bad taste.
Notes, including bibliographic references, and an index appear at the end.
The book, Black Velvet Art, because it is so rich in reproductions, is certainly a good coffee table volume--or, if one is too embarrassed to admit to an appreciation for this type of art, a source of personal enjoyment. But Black Velvet Art seeks to do more than give its owner many images to enjoy. It seeks to challenge the position of black velvet as anti-art and to get us to consider black velvet seriously. This challenge is most welcome. Unfortunately, the text is so sparse that the reader is left wanting more at almost every point. I was particularly disappointed with the very cursory discussion of technique, the small number of artist biographies (three), and the brevity of the biographical information given. A fuller discussion of esthetics would also be welcome. Black velvet is particularly suited for showing plump flesh, such as the female nudes already mentioned, the face of Elvis, and children’s faces. Muscularity, such as that of matadors or animals, shows up particularly well on velvet, as do wrinkles, such as those on the faces of banditos and some celebrities. Tears and sweat droplets pop out against a dark background. All this favors some of the emotionality that is typical of velvet. The only allusion to this fact is a brief mention of the medium’s “furry seductiveness.”
In short, this is a fun book. It leaves much work to be done. Hopefully it will entice others, or the author and photographer themselves, to take on this work.
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[Review length: 1067 words • Review posted on March 5, 2012]