“Doggy Buffet”

Artist Richard Sargent (1911-1979) painted 47 Post covers between 1951 and 1962, when photographs were rapidly replacing magazine illustrations. A Midwesterner, he was born and raised in Moline, Illinois and went to art school there. He later became quite the world traveler, but he always remembered the all-American folk and loved putting them in situations that tended to go awry.

“Cramped Parking”

Right now Mr. Jones is feeling like a tin can in a trash compactor. But squeezing out of his car may be easier than explaining why he was late for work because he missed the 7:35.

“Dr. and the Dog”

“The trouble with painters,” said Post editors of this 1953 cover, “is that they build up awful situations like this, then blithely start work on another cover, leaving the victims to get out of the mess, if possible.” And leaving the observer to wonder what happens next. Artist Sargent was a master at the pregnant situation: Will the man above be able to squeeze out of his car and make the train? Will the dog at the buffet make off with the ham? Will the dog in this painting make a meal of the doctor? When editors asked, “Sargent says he doesn’t know what will happen, because the dog’s hair is so long he can’t see the expression in his eyes.” The rat.

“Sack Full of Trouble”

Grocery shopping was easy in the days before Big Chief Troublemaker came along, hiding in tin-can canyons and paper goods trails waiting to ambush Mom or the poor grocer.

Sargent had three sons, starting with a redheaded moppet with a mischievous bent; the inspiration for many a cover.

“Violin Practice”

Apparently Red’s skills have not reached a level tolerable even to himself in this 1955 cover. Sargent’s own redheaded son was grown by 1954 when an excited Sargent called a Post editor and said, “Well, what do you suppose happened to me?”

The staffer guessed, “Land a painting in the Metropolitan Museum?” “Better than that!” Sargent cried. “Listen. I’m a little guy: five feet six, 125 pounds. Always wanted to be an athlete when I was a kid—always the last kid to be picked on a team. All my life I’ve yearned to be written up in the sports news. You know the Wykagyl golf course?” (This was a famous suburban New York club near Sargent’s home.) “Well, sir, you’re talking to a champion! Anthony and I just won the Father and Son championship!”

Honestly, this guy couldn’t wait to share the family triumph with his friends at the Post. After sifting through biographical details about the artist, it seemed this little conversation told much more about the man.

“Richard Sargent”

Yep, confirmed the editors, the write-up in the New Rochelle paper detailed the duo’s spiffy score of net 66. So the Post ran its own photo of Sargent and family with the trophy. The lively little redheaded Anthony was by then six feet three and playing golf in the low 80’s. Noting that his dad scored in the 90’s, the editors suggested “he plays better with a brush”.

“Grandma Catches Fly-ball”

Number 21 is trying desperately, but it’s a high fly ball, straight into the mitt of…Grandma! Curious Post editors checked around and uncovered the fact that “some 1400 foul balls are knocked into the Yankee Stadium stands every season.” More difficult to ascertain were the stats on how many of those were snagged by little old ladies wearing red gloves.

“The Fat Lady Sings”

If you ever watched preliminary tryouts for “American Idol,” you probably found yourself cringing like the gentlemen here. Even the bust of Beethoven on the piano is wincing, no doubt wishing he had hands to cover his ears with. Maybe they should start playing “Show Me the Way to Go Home.” This was Dick Sargent in a nutshell, showing us that life has its foibles, but it’s still a hoot!

The Fat Lady Sings by Dick Sargent

American Idol wannabes, take note: When everyone is wincing, get a clue. Everybody but the pretty blond at the piano, that is, who still has fun even if the lady in blue is drowning everyone out. The male quartet is not happy. Make that a quintet – Beethoven is apparently in pain.

The Trumpeter by Norman Rockwell

This is not the musician’s posture a teacher would demand. The idea for the painting came when Post editor Ben Hibbs talked to Norman Rockwell about the contortionistic body positions of his son playing the instrument. The dog’s expression is either terror at the strange sounds emitting from that thing or concern that the instrument is somehow hurting the kid (or vice versa).

Rockwell’s incredible eye for detail certainly shows in the chair’s slipcover. Does the charming pattern look familiar? Rockwell fashioned the fabric from a painting done by Grandma Moses, a good friend of his. Oh, and love the socks!

Making Music by Alfred E. Orr

Everyone’s a critic! This dog has a definite opinion about the clarinet. Artist Alfred E. Orr did six Saturday Evening Post covers, including this delight from 1921.

Offkey Harpist by E.M. Jackson

It’s bad enough when the bust of Beethoven winces, but when the instrument itself covers its ears, you are really off-key. Artist E.M. Jackson did 58 covers for the Post and her sister publication, Country Gentleman with subjects from sad to glamorous to downright whimsical, like this one.

Jamming with Dad by John Falter

Jazz greats like Louie Armstrong adorn the walls and pops is sure getting into it, but the tunes just don’t click with the teens. This 1956 generation gap cover was by one of our most beloved artists, John Falter.

Thank you for your comments and suggestions on cover features, like “could you show us some covers people often mistake for Rockwells?” We’ll be glad to do it in the next installment.