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The SAUL
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Welcome to the Watercolors,
Sketches, Cartoons and Drawings All images are copyright 2009, 2007, 2003 and previous years by Andrew W. Saul. At the bottom of this page you
will find biographical information about my father, American artist Warren E.
Saul (1921-1996). It has been recently expanded (Feb
2009). NEW (and may take a few moments to
load): My
Dad had an odd sense of humor. Here’s proof: New Product Listing:
Andrew Saul’s Birth Notice (Ink, 1955) He
also could get bored easily: Mind-Wandering Doodles
During a Church Service (Ink, 1988) More Cartoons During
Church (Ink, 1986-88) He
believed in the value of vitamins and juicing: Making Fresh
Vegetable Juice (1993, Pencil) Vegetable Juicing,
part 2 (1993, Pencil) (The
above two items were his proposed illustrations for http://www.doctoryourself.com/juicefast.html) Draft of Doctor Yourself Book Cover (Ink,
1994) The Artist and His Juicer
(Photograph, c. 1994) Links to view PERMANENT EXHIBITS, by
category: Railroading Studies of Steam
Locomotives Some Quick Train
Cartoons Transcontinental
Railroad Locomotive Jupiter
(Ink, 1985) Amtrak Passenger
Train #3 at La Junta, CO (Watercolor and ink, 1983) The
"Good Old Days" Remembered
CARPATHIA (the
ship that rescued TITANIC survivors) SS Liberte Leaving
New York Harbor (Watercolor, 1978) Boeing 40-A 1930s Military
Policeman (Ink, 1981) Barbershop
Scene (Ink, 1977) Ferry Majestic, 1925 (Ink, 1986) SS United States and Lawncare
(Ink, 1986) From
a Visit to Europe Clock Tower,
St. Mark’s Square, Venice, Italy (Watercolor and Ink, 1983) Cathedral
Santa Maria del Fiore, Florence, Italy (Watercolor and ink, 1983) Egyptian
Columns, St. Mark’s Square, Venice, Italy (Watercolor and ink, 1983) The Chapel at
Versailles, and Views of Paris Former
Monastery in Lisbon, Portugal (Ink, 1985) Painter at Santorini, Greece (Ink, 1985) Burano Island and San Giorgio Maggiore,
Venice (Ink, 1986)
Plans for
Building a Writing Desk (Ink, 1985) Church and
Doctor’s Office Lamp (Ink, 1985) Dining Room
Light Fixture, and Salt and Pepper (Ink, 1984) Breakfast,
Shoes, Golf, and Suit (Ink, 1985) Police
Spot-Check on Driving park Ave, Rochester, NY (Watercolor and ink, 1983) Elderly
Patient and Retirement Plans (Pencil, 1979) Waiting and
Reading (Pencil, 1982) Poinsettia
and Dumbcane (Ink, 1985) Lettering
a Truck; Lunch and Supper (Ink, 1986) Barbershop
Quartet (Ink and colored pencil, 1976) Artist’s Son Andrew
W. Saul at Graduation (Pencil, 1974) Cottage in
Ludlow, VT (Pencil, 1981) Horseshoe
Pit (Ink, 1978) Measurement
in a Sports Event (Pencil, 1978) An Attack of
Vertigo (Ink with annotations, 1978) (How
my father got over his Meniere’s Disease is posted at http://www.doctoryourself.com/ears.html
) Halloween
Cartoons (Ink, 1986) Portrait and
Caricature Drawing Amish Barnraising A Small
Tribute to a Man’s Best Friend (Text, 1985) Artist
Carrying His Easel (Pencil, 1978) Post Office Jeep Studies
of the Work of Great Artists North
Greenland Fjord, after Kent (Watercolor, 1979) Chez Mouquin, after Glackeus
(Watercolor, 1979) Self-Portrait,
after Soyer (Pencil, 1977) The
Burgomaster of Leyden, after Dubordieu
(Watercolor, 1978) Benjamin
Franklin, after Fragonard (Watercolor, 1978) Benjamin
Franklin with Glasses, after Tobey (Watercolor,
1978) Bridgman’s
Studies of Human Face (Ink, 1986) Bridgman’s
Studies of Human Skull (Ink, 1986) Woman
Holding a Collie, after Sargent (Watercolor,
1978) The Jester,
after Leyster (Watercolor, 1979) Vase of
Flowers, after Redon (Watercolor, 1979) George
Washington, after Stuart (Watercolor, 1979) La Bohemienne, after Hals
(Watercolor, 1979) Children in an
Advertisement, after Douse (Ink, 1986) The Beach at Trouville, after Boudin Landscapes, after Inness Holding a Baby, after Cassatt Portrait of A. Y.
Jackson, after Young Bellows: Anne in Black
Velvet, after Bellows (Watercolor, 1981) Portrait of Geraldine,
after Bellows Chase: Carmencita, after Chase (Watercolor, 1980) Meditation,
after Chase (Watercolor, 1980) Mrs. Chase at the
Opera, after Chase (Watercolor, 1979) Golden Lady,
after Chase (Watercolor, 1980) Homer: Monet: Self-Portrait,
after Monet (Watercolor, 1978) Manet: Rembrandt: Renoir: Sisley: Wheatfields Near Argenteuil,
after Sisley (Watercolor, 1980) Nut Trees at
Sunset, after Sisley (Watercolor, 1980) Bridge at
Hampton Court (1874), after Sisley (Watercolor,
1980) Barges at Saint-Mammes, after Sisley
(Watercolor, 1980) Henri: Lautrec: The
Laundress, after Lautrec (Watercolor, 1980) English Girl
of the “Star” in Havre, after Lautrec (Watercolor, 1980) La Goulue, after Lautrec (Watercolor, 1980) Pellew: Pissarro: Portrait
of the Artist, after Pissarro (Watercolor, 1979) Turner: VanGogh: Painter with a
Pipe, after Van Gogh (Watercolor, 1981) Old Peasant of Provence, after Van Gogh Wyeth: From
the Sketchbooks: Houses
of Parliament (Ink, 1979) Cape
Elizabeth Lighthouse (Ink, 1986) Clarence Gagnon
(Watercolor, 1980) Untitled
Portrait (Colored pencil, 1978) Character
Study from a 1927 Photo of the Sacco-Vanzetti Trial
(Colored pencil, 1978) Untitled
Portrait (Crayon, 1978) Fishing
Boat, Rockport, MA (Watercolor and pencil, 1983) Old Thompson
Bank, Sturbridge Village, MA (Watercolor and ink, 1983) Warwick Castle
Tower, England (Watercolor and pencil, 1983) Mountain
View to the East, Albuquerque, NM (Watercolor and pencil, 1983) Federal
Reserve Bank, Boston, MA (Watercolor and ink, 1983) South
Market, Boston, MA (Watercolor and ink, 1983) Shoreline
of Nantucket, MA (Watercolor, 1984) Native American
Character Studies (Pencil, undated) Downtown
Wilmington, DE (Ink, 1985) House and
Barn (Ink, 1986) Portrait of Thomas P. Anshutz The
WW II Cartoons: Also online: "THE ASHCAN SCHOOL AND
REALISM" W. E. Saul's 1967 masters’ paper on an obscure group of
American realist painters Warren
E. Saul (1921-1996): An Appreciation by
Andrew W. Saul Copyright
© 2009 and previous years Andrew Saul Some
people read while they wait. My father sketched. Constantly. For over 20 years, Warren Saul kept a daily
self-illustrated diary he called "Sketchnotes."
It ran to some 55 volumes, including many thousands of quick sketches,
comments, and watercolors on all conceivable topics. His notebooks at times
are reminiscent of an almost Leonardo DaVinci-like
rambling, but entirely serious visual inquiry into the world around us.
Sometimes, the drawings are just stream-of-consciousness cartoons done while
my Dad sat at the kitchen table, at a meeting, or in a waiting room. He
sketched from his car in a parking lot, or at a stop light or drive-up
window. I like these the best. They are his take on his own life, seen
through his own eyes. My father also produced a considerable
number of more formal watercolor, acrylic, or oil paintings. I think his best
work may have been his quick watercolor sketches. These never took him longer
than about 20 minutes, usually much less. Most of his watercolors are copies
of, renditions of, or tributes to the work of his favorite masters.
Chief among these would be the French and American impressionists. He was
especially keen on the circa 1900 American "Ashcan School"
of artists who liked to draw just about anything, and did. Just like A
Boy of Summer Like so many other boys, Warren E. Saul
wanted to be a big-league baseball pitcher, and he came
half-way close to making it. When still a teenager, he played semipro,
pitching for a farm team in the NY Yankees organization. He tried out for the
Yankees, but his fast ball wasn’t fast enough for the majors. But he did all
right in the minors. Dad’s greatest boys-of-summer moment was probably when
he struck out Bobby Brown, twice in one game. Bobby Brown went on to become
the president of the American League. Dad went on to become an artist. While baseball's loss may ultimately have
been our gain, my father had a pretty humble beginning to his art career: he
was a sign painter during the depression years of the late 1930's. He once
had a job lettering a set of display windows for a local merchant. After he’d
been outside on the job for a while, there was some kind of disagreement
about payment, and the store owner said he would not pay. My father finished
the job anyway. Now you are going to think this is a holier-then-thou story,
but it is not. My father intentionally had used water-soluble paint, and the
first time it rained, the lettering washed off in a blurry
slurry of color. After enlisting for service in WW II, he
rose to the rank of sergeant. Twice. The first time he was promoted, he was
AWOL, on the train to Life With Father Well
I remember our usual wretched snowy I watched him paint a lot. It was not
because I was a dedicated, precocious observer. It was due to the fact that
Pa painted practically all the time. He sketched while in church. He drew
after (and during) meals. He painted signs and posters for charities and
civic organizations, always free of charge. He lettered trucks for friends
and neighbors. He also taught mechanical drawing for a time, briefly at the
college level and even more briefly in high school. As a father with a wife
and three sons, he went back to school and earned a master’s in art history. Middle-Aged College Man When my father was a
41-year old undergrad at the Pa worked hard at the U of
R, where he felt somewhat outclassed. He often was. I remember how hard he
worked. He illustrated his own classroom notes so he could understand things
visually. For his term papers, he worked even harder. His handwriting was
exemplary, and yet he typically paid a typist to ensure a proper final
version. At the “brain factory,” as he liked to call “The University,” Warren
Saul earned a lot of C-plusses and B-minuses. His exam books, all of which he
kept, show that he was no scholar. But he did surely
become one. After earning,
and I do mean earning, his BA in Geography, he went on to complete a Masters
in Art History. My mother never wavered from maintaining her view that he did
that to one-up her. Mom had been a teacher, and had a BA in History from For one shining moment, my
father rose spectacularly above academic mediocrity. He was writing a paper
on Rembrandt’s “Anatomy Lesson of Dr Tulp.” He
would later cartoon-ize this famous painting at my
request, and make it into the comical cover
illustration for my second book, Paperback Clinic. It was a joke that almost
no one ever got . . .except Pa and me. But anyway,
Pa had a flair for the thorough, if not for the dramatic. He decided to check
and see if Rembrandt got it right. So, Pa arranged to attend a human cadaver
dissection at U of R’s medical school. He gowned up and watched closely.
Rembrandt was right: there are two sets of arm tendons, and the anatomy is
accurate. However, he wrote, Rembrandt was not accurate in his portrayal of
the appearance of the dead body. The color and, well, “lifelikeness” of the
cadaver are artistic license. My Dad was first to verify the one, and comment
on the other. He aced his paper. Then he had nightmares for
months. Maturity and Some Immaturity For a consummate artist who
could discern two dozen different shades of blue, Pa had incredibly bad taste
in wardrobe. Oh, he could put on a dark suit and do the Kodak thing OK; it’s
what he wore when he was not at work that was enough to give Calvin Klein a
coronary. He would wear plaids with checks, bright red pants with bright blue
jackets, and brazenly loud bow ties with anything. The most outrageous outfit
he ever wore, in my opinion, was his pajamas. My mother liked to sew. She was
not particularly good at sewing, but made up for it with sheer inventiveness.
Inventions are not always successful, my father the patent draftsman would
tell you, but that does not stop inventors. Neither did such constraints as
good taste stop my parents. When my mother made my Dad terry cloth pajamas,
she must have been low on material. The pajamas turned out Bermuda-shorts
length, with wild, patterned green pockets cut from an entirely a different
fabric. Perhaps those pockets were not quite big enough to hold volume one of
Encyclopedia Britannica, but it would have been a near thing. The worst part
of it was that Pa absolutely loved them, and to prove it, wore the pajama
pants in public. No, that was not quite the worst part; this was: he took me
with him. When I was in 9th grade. To the neighborhood public
library. Where my friends were. I knew what was coming but
was powerless to prevent it. The man whose best-known family phrase was,
“Don’t talk while I’m interrupting” was not to be dissuaded by the likes of
me. Off we went to the Charlotte Branch of the Rochester Public Library, me
hunching way, way down into the foam front seat of our sea-green 1960 Chevy. When we got to the library
parking lot, I deliberately dragged behind, as far as humanly possible. It
was looking good: I was 30 feet back now as we approached the front double
doors. Up the steps he strode; back on the sidewalk I slowly slunk. He opened
the door, and in full view of the world, called back to me in his never-soft
voice, “C’mon, Andrew!” Oh good grief. I followed
him in and yes, right at the first lobby table were
several of my friends. My memory blanks after that. I understand that is what
post-traumatic stress can do. Pa loved the music and
clowning of Spike Jones. He did a remarkably good impression of Peter Lorre (“My Old Flame”). A natural born master of
ceremonies, Pa could tell a good joke, or a bad one, and get good audience
response. Once in a while he took center stage at home, although it was
crowded under that spotlight with my brothers and me. The best mealtimes were
when he told stories about being in the Army. And yet this is the man who studied
portraiture with Stanley Gordon, renowned painter of Popes and
presidents. The
Measure of a Man Most of Warren Saul's professional life was
spent behind a drawing board at Eastman Kodak Company. He executed many, many
patent drawings during this time. Although patent illustrators are not
allowed to sign their work, Pa did so anyway. He used Morse code, and
concealed a "W E Saul" into each drawing's broken shading lines.
So, if you really want to, you can go to Before and especially after his retirement
in the mid 1980s, Dad did many art lectures, free of charge, for churches and
clubs. He usually talked about the architecture of the building the group was
gathered in. Pa could tell you the construction date of any private or public
building to within five years either way. He was never wrong. Over time, these lectures turned into live how-to
demonstrations. Pa insisted that to know how to paint, you first have to know
how to draw. All the while explaining what he was doing and why, Pa would paint
a picture in less than half an hour. His favorite subject? The TITANIC leaving on its maiden voyage
from I always knew my Dad was a great artist,
but I did not know why until I took art history at I told Pa this, and he of course dismissed
it. But after that, when we visited, he brought me photocopies of all his new
sketches. And what’s more, the man who so liked to quip “If I want your
opinion, I’ll give it to you” actually did ask for my opinion on them. That
is a moment we had for the ages. For years, I remember Pa saying that when
he retired, he was going to play golf every morning, and do paintings every
afternoon. His surviving sketchbooks confirm that he kept at least the second
part of that pledge to the letter. In later years, his hands and fingers were
a never-ending sore spot for him, and after nine operations, he sold his golf
clubs. However, he never got rid of his pencils,
brushes or pens. He kept right on drawing. Of
his thousands of surviving paintings and sketches, the online archive at www.doctoryourself.com consists
mostly of my favorites that were small enough to scan into a webpage. For
every item there, a hundred more are waiting to be seen.
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For your comments, or for more information on the life and artwork of Warren E. Saul (1921-1996), you may use the email link to your left. |
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