Original Pulp Paintings from the Robert Lesser Collection

The William Benton Museum of Art is hosting an exhibition of Robert Lesser's voluminous collection of original pulp paintings. The show runs until March 14, 2010, and includes artwork from the covers of such magazines as Amazing Stories, Weird Tales, Astounding Science Fiction, and Planet Stories, as well as those of other genres, including Western, detective and crime, and war stories.

To learn more, visit the exhibition's web site: www.thebenton.org/exb_current.php?inc=31

There's also a slide show of artwork, including the covers of the magazines for which it was used, here.

It's a great opportunity to see some great, uniquely American pop art, and I highly recommend anyone who can make the trip does so.

I had a chance to poke through much of the art when I visited Lesser's apartment a few years ago. It was stacked four, five, six, seven paintings deep against every wall of his small, New York apartment. The art hung from every flat surface -- including the ceiling! Overwhelming. Scary and impressive at the same time. Lesser always said that he wants people to be able to appreciate the art, so it's great to see that it's found a home for a while. (I know he plans on donating it to a museum in New Britain, CT, sometime in the future.)

Robert Lesser at the preview of the auction of his vintage robots and space toys. (Photo by Karl Tate)

Lesser's art was on display a few years ago at the Brooklyn Museum. They did a pretty weak job of mounting the exhibition, though the scope and grandeur still came through. I hope this time the museum does the collection -- and the collector -- justice by putting some more thought into how they hang the art.

Space Toy Books and Web Sites

"Doc, Doc! I want to learn more about vintage toy robots! What resources are available to me? Besides your wonderful blog, of course." Robot collectors are a lucky bunch, with access to many, many different books and web sites detailing vintage space toys. I'm not going to list them all -- that's what Google's for -- but here are some of my favorite sources of information.

Alphadrome (www.danefield.com/alpha) 

The best online discussion forum for all things space-toy related. Dozens of active members -- out of the hundreds of lurkers -- create a sort of hive-mind that has, over the years, amassed so much information that it would take months to sift through it all. Dates, manufacturers, variations -- you name it, there's someone talking about it. It's also a great place to meet other collectors; the people on Alphadrome are a friendly lot and new members are always welcome -- especially if they post a picture or two of their collections!

Alphadrome also spawned what has to be the only vintage space toy convention in the world: Botstock. Six years old and with not end in sight, this weekend-long Spring get together has moves around a lot, and has convenved at the Toy Robot Museum, the might Robot Hut, and the Kane County Toy Show outside of Chicago. It's always a lot of fun, and often an opportunity to see -- and oftentimes buy -- all sorts of great toys. I'll post more extensively about Botstock somewhere down the road. 

  

Future Toys, by Antoni Emchowicz (New Cavendish Books, 2000) 

One of the best books for photos of old robots, space vehicles, and toy astronauts. The variety is nearly overwhelming, the images are clear, and the editorial details, like the information on company logos, is vital to any collector. Most of the data accompanying the photos is spot-on accurate, though some of the date information is incorrect (though it was all anyone knew when the book came out). It's worth noting that Emchowicz is a long-time collector and dealer, and some wonderful toys can be found at his web site, Zoomer Toys (www.zoomertoys.com). 

Toy Ray Gun (www.toyraygun.com) 

One of the deepest fonts of ray gun information in the world. Dozens of guns are pictured, along with descriptions, names, manufacturers, dates, and countries of origin. There are also sections for boxes, and associated toys like space helmets and holsters. If the site has any flaws at all, it's the small photos that accompany each entry, and the somewhat dated information (again, the site's creator, Gene Metcalf, was working with the best knowledge of the day, so he can hardly be blamed). The site is currently owned by a good friend of mine named Justin Pinchot, who is himself responsible for my owning many of the toys in my collection. 

  

Ray Gun, by Eugene Metcalf and Frank Maresca (Fotofolio Books, 1999) 

Besides starting raygun.com, Metcalf also released the second book on toy ray guns. This excellent resource features large, clear photographs of some amazing space-age artillery. Rare toys, common toys, steel, tin, plastic -- a wide variety of toy ray guns are represented. Each photo is accompanied by minimal text, including name, manufacturer, dimensions, date, and country of origin. Metcalf's opening essay is a must-read. 

This is the book that got me started collecting vintage ray guns, back before I even owned any vintage robots. Eventually, these toys will make an appearance in this blog, though for now I'm happy to focus on the robots. 

 

Zap!, by Leslie Singer (Chronicle Books, 1991) 

The very first book on toy ray guns, Zap! literally broke new ground in the hobby. Before anyone knew much about anything, Leslie Singer was exploring toy shows, attending auctions, and going to swap meets in an effort to amass a collection of these fantastic toys. This was in the days before eBay and internet chat forums; when nothing was known about these toys, Leslie was putting it all together. The book is full of incredible pictures, and if the information is a little dated, it nonetheless provides a snapshot of what people knew about these toys in the early Nineties.

 

Blast Off, by S. Mark Young, Steve Duin, and Mike Richardson (Dark Horse Books, 2001) 

An excellent overview of the whole range of space toys, from pieces based on characters like Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon, to premiums attached to TV such TV shows as Space Patrol and Tom Corbett: Space Cadet, to foreign toys, to tin robots. Very little is left behind, and Young's accompanying text is full of interesting factoids and amusing anecdotes. Flipping through Blast Off helps give these toys some context. Robots didn't exist in a vacuum; the kids who owned them in the middle of the century were playing with a variety of toys, each of which helped to create a vision of the future that, sadly, transformed into fiction long ago.

 

Robot and Space Toys Collection, by Takashi and Kinya Morita (World Mook 242) 

It's hard to beat this Japanese "mook" -- the weird union of a book and a magazine -- if you're looking for photos. Covering all manner of space toys, and with different angle and close ups of details, there's enough eye-candy between these covers to put your brain into shock. There's also extensive editorial content... which is, unfortunately, written in Japanese. I have no idea what any of it says... 

  

Robots, Tin Toy Dreams, by T. Kitahara (Chronicle Books, 1985)

For many collectors, this is the book that kick-started their addictions. Kitahara was collecting these robots before anyone else thought to even bother, and built up the kind of collection that few people can even dream of. Lots of holes in the information, of course -- so very little was known at the time -- but nonetheless a worthwhile resource for the historical value alone.

Important Robots and Antique Toys From the Estate of F.H. Griffith (Sotheby's Auction Catalog, December 9, 2000)

Wonderful photos from the former collection of master collector F.H. Griffith. Loads of boxes, too. The descriptions of the toys give a good idea of what they all do, though the dates are a bit off. 

The Tin Toy Robot Collection of Matt Wyse (Sotheby's Auction Catalog, November 7, 1996)

Another great catalog featuring toys owned by an early collector. Lots of group shots, which is great for figuring out the relative sizes of each toy. 

The Robert Lesser Robot and Space Toy Collection (Smith House Toy & Auction Company Catalog, #72, May 9, 2008)

Another fantastic collection by a legend in the hobby. This catalog features large photos of many toys, including some extremely rare one. The descriptions are listed in the back, and are a bit perfunctory, but they still get the job done. More photos are available at the Smith House web site: www.smithhousetoys.com.

The Alan Rosen Robot and Space Toy Collection - Part 1 (Smith House Toy & Auction Company Catalog, #74, May 15, 2009)

This catalog features mostly space toys, and covers everything from the most common to the absolute rarest. Almost all the toys are boxed, and in some cases, these photos represent the only ones known to exist. This is an absolute must-own if you're into space toys such as rockets, tanks, saucers, and tractors. 

And now, my least favorite book on space toys. I'd argue that there's no reason to own it, unless you need a way to prop up a wobbly table.

Vintage Toys, by Jim Bunte, Heinz Mueller, and Dave Hallman (Paperback Kraus)

Factual errors abound in this book. It also quotes prices that, frankly, make no sense at all half the time. Unfortunately, it seems that many sellers on eBay use this as the basis of their descriptions... Beware. 

Atomic Robot Man (Unknown / 1949 / Japan / 5 inches)

It all started so simply. An eBay auction. A six-inch tin robot. An extra freelance check burning a hole in my wallet. A couple clicks, some bated breath, and victory! Suddenly, after having collected reproduction tin robots for a few months, I was the proud owner of my very first vintage piece: Atomic Robot Man.



I know, you're asking yourself, "Does that freak have two of them? Has he no restraint whatsoever? Is he so depraved that he can't resist the siren call of a beautiful piece of tin?"

Well, yes, no, and, perhaps unsurprisingly to anyone who knows me, absolutely, positively, rapturously yes. But that is not why I've got two Atomic Robot Men. Before I explain what's going on, let's take a general look the A.R.M.

Atomic Robot Man first hit stands in 1949, making it the second toy robot ever produced. (The first is called Lilliput, and was produced in 1938. More on that when I actually manage to get one; it's super expensive, so don't hold your breath.) A.R.M.'s one of the more primitive robots, with a body made from basic, geometric shapes -- boxes and cylinders stacked to roughly approximate a man. His hollow eyes can't see, and yet somehow they seem to take in the world all around him. A.R.M. has a compellingly eerie personality, which might be why this is one of my all-time favorite robots. And even though one or two rank high enough to more-or-less tie, this is the robot I want to buried with.



Atomic Robot Man was available in two basic versions. The first, released in 1949, featured cast metal arms; the second had two-piece tin arms. All versions feature a key-wound pin-walking mechanism. (And no, that's not why I have two; I don't own the tin-armed version. Hold tight, all will be revealed...)


Note the pin-walking mechanism.


My A.R.M. appeared on eBay at the same time as two other robots, an Atom Robot and a Television Spaceman (more on these later). I really wanted the Atomic Robot Man because it was the model for the first reproduction tin robot I ever bought, the one that really got me hooked on the idea of old toys. But looking at those other toys... they were so cool, and I wasn't certain which was the one I really wanted at that moment.

I'd just gotten paid for a rather lengthy magazine article, and the lingering feeling of financial security is the only excuse I can think of for what I did next: I placed a bid on all three. Part of me figured I'd be lucky to win even one, so I didn't worry too much about the potential expense. And now I'm sure you can see where this is going...

Fast forward a week. The auction's about to end and, appropriately, I'm at a science fiction convention, frantically hunting for a computer so I can see which toy I won. Surprisingly (to me -- you readers can guess what comes next), I won all three.

Well, that was the end of my check, but the beginning of my collection. Years later, I can't say I mind. Since the Atomic Robot Man ended first, and arrived in the mail first, it wins the honor of being my first vintage toy. Strangely enough, I can't remember whether the Atom Robot or the Television Spaceman showed up next. Let the record show that they're tied for second.

"Nice story, Doc. Now, you degenerate, care to tell us why you've got two of the little buggers?"

Certainly. First, let's flip them around:




The second Atomic Robot Man, on the right, is known as the Science Fiction A.R.M. on account of the stamp adorning it's back, which says "Souvenir of the New York Science Fiction Conference." This is an extremely rare variation, one of only two three known examples. The first resided until recently in the collection of Bob Lesser (long-time readers will remember Bob from the post of two days ago...). He got it from the great science fiction collector, fan, and publisher Gerry de la Ree. It sold at the Lesser auction to a guy I know. Mine came from a woman who originally obtained it from legendary science fiction and fantasy artist Roy G. Krenkel. (Let's pause to reiterate that: Mine was originally owned by Roy G. Krenkel. If you don't know who he is, I suggest a Google search.)



So what's the big deal? What's the stamp mean? Why were all the known examples originally owned by science fiction bigwigs? Why would it drive me to own a toy I've already got sitting on my shelves? Before we get to that, let's drag out the pain just a bit longer to compare the two toys more directly. Besides the stamp, there were a number of cosmetic differences, including color and lithographic details:




Two A.R.M.s. The SF version is on the right.



Spot the differences in the chest litho. The SF A.R.M. is on the bottom.


Alright, alright. Now, finally: The Stamp.

As it says, the toy was used as a giveaway at the New York Science Fiction Conference, which was held in 1950, from June 1-3, in New York City at the Henry Hudson Hotel. Also known as Hydracon, it was sponsored by the Hydra Club, a group of New York science fiction luminaries that included Frederik Pohl, Lester Del Rey, William Tenn, David Kyle, and many others. (For more on the Hydra Club, see David Kyle's wonderful essay "The Legendary Hydra Club" in Mimosa Magazine: jophan.org/mimosa/m25/kyle.htm.)

As for why the toy only seems to appear in the collections of old-school, hardcore science fiction guys, that can be explained easily enough: They were the ones who not only went to Hydracon, but also had obsessive enough personalities to hold on to the swag they got at the convention.

So... What about my need to own the toy against all better financial judgement? As some may have figured out, I'm a huge science fiction fan. More so, I'm a fan of classic science fiction. I enjoy reading it, I enjoy reading about it. I go out of my way to speak with that authors from that era -- it's only stalking if they catch you hiding in their closets -- so that I can hear first hand what it was like in the days before overt, crass commercialization took hold of science fiction and (nearly) throttled the sense of wonder out of it. I find no fantasy more alluring than the one where I use a time machine to go back to one of these old conventions. (Okay, shooting myself with an Inviso-Ray and then hanging out in Anne Francis' dressing room while she made all those costume changes during the shooting of Forbidden Planet ranks a very, very close second.)

For me, the SF Atomic Robot Man is a tangible link to not only the past, but to a specific time and place in the past. It is that time machine, one that connects me to Roy Krenkel and everyone else at Hydracon. To have the time machine take the shape of one of my favorite robots is icing on the cake.

I'll admit something: I debated selling my first A.R.M. when I won the SF variation. The latter cost me almost three times what I paid for the former, and even acknowledging the sweet deal I got on that first toy (the eBay gods were smiling on me that day), the new one cost me some serious cash. Selling my A.R.M. would inject some vital funds into my bank account.



But I just couldn't do it. As much as I love the SF A.R.M., I don't think anything can compare to the weird, special magic of that first toy, the one that sets up what has since become a major source of pleasure in my life.



So I keep them both on my shelf, side by side, two tin peas in a Swedish glass, metal, and chipboard pod. Can't get much nicer than that, right?

Smoking Robot (Yonezawa / 1963 / Japan / 12.5 inches)

Here we are, the first post. Might as well hit the ground running.

Tremble before the mighty Smoking Robot. Twelve imposing inches of tin, this toy robot walks forward with light-up eyes and an illuminated color wheel that rotates under his dome. But what really sets him apart, what prevents this toy from ever being manufactured today, is the smoke that puffs from his mouth whenever he pauses in his stride. The mechanism that causes the whispy little clouds consists of a small, heated wire that makes contact with a bit of cotton doused in oil. Take that, pesky Safety Commission!

This rare, blue version of the Smoking Robot was released by a Japanese company called Yonezawa in 1961. It also came in an even rarer mint green. A much more common metallic grey version of the toy, which features a metal on/off switch and other small design tweaks, appeared in 1960 under both the Yonezawa and Linemar brands. The Linemar version was named Smoking Spaceman.

Note the "Y" logo for Yonezawa. The Linemar version has the Linemar logo. Duh.

This particular robot is one of my favorites, and I waited a long time before even having a chance to add him to my collection. I love the colors, I love the wonderful, iconic, mid-century design that screams "classic science fiction." This is the kind of robot that any city would be honored to get stomped on by. Thankfully, it's only a foot high and doesn't have much chance of wrecking my toy room.

I consider myself lucky to own a Smoking Robot -- especially a blue one. Especially this blue one. I won it at the Robert Lesser auction last year, and to own a toy with that sort of provenance is just a thrill. I'll talk about Bob Lesser some other time; for now, trust me when I say that he's one of this hobby's original gangsters. Bob was collecting back in the day when people considered these toys nothing more than shiny pieces of junk. He recognized the toys' inherent artistry; more importantly, he thought they were fun. He built up an amazing collection full of all the best toys, including the blue Smoking Robot.

I've admired Bob's taste and vision for a long time, and when he finally put his toys up for auction, I decided that I wouldn't settle for just any ol' piece. I wanted to take home something that was not only at the top of my wish list, but also one that really represented the spirit of Bob's collection. One that positively screamed "vintage tin toy robot." The Smoking Robot was it.

The white plastic on/off switch. Linemar's version has a larger, chrome, tin switch.

But therein sat the problem. The Smoking Robot is, at the best of times, a popular robot -- I'm not the only collector with a good eye! Even the more common grey one, which appears on eBay every couple months, can snag a pretty penny when it's in good condition. If it's boxed, prepare to dig even deeper into your wallet. The blue and green versions... Well, let's just say that they attract the big-time collectors like a spinster aunt attracts cats. If you want one, you might as well figure out which body part you can sell in order to raise the cash.

Now, I'm not a big-time collector, and I sure as heck don't have any extra body parts lying around. So I started saving my money months before the auction. But I knew I needed an edge, and I hoped that some inside information might sharpen my chances. See, the auction listing in the catalog said that this Smoking Spaceman had some paint touch-up inside the battery compartments, which are located in the legs. It also mentioned some touch ups to the outside of the legs and on the robot's shoulders. This is exactly the kind of thing that turns those high-end collectors off of a toy. See, they've got money to spare, and their feeling is that, if they're going to spend piles of cash on a toy, they want that toy to be mint. If not, they'd rather just wait.

But here's the good bit. The good bit is that I'd already taken a close look at this particular toy. It's one of my all-time favorites, so when I visited Bob's house, I gave it a thorough once over. When I went to a display of Bob's toys at the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago, I gave it a thorough once over. And when I went to the auction preview, I gave it yet another, even more thorough once-over. And sure, okay, I had to listen to Bob scream at me to stop drooling on his toys, but it was worth it -- I knew for a fact that despite what the catalog might say, any touch up on this robot wasn't that big a deal. In fact, if no one had told me, it's a good chance I'd have assumed any such touch ups came from the factory.

(This happened often; the manufacturing process required painting or lithographing the tin before sending it through the punches and presses. Scratches were common and the factories would use dabs of paint to clean up the toys before packaging them and sending them off to distributors. Collectors, generally speaking, don't care about factory touch ups.)

The battery box shows some mild corrosion. However, what looks like rust is in fact brown cardboard and old-school age-grime.

So armed with my super, secret information, I was cautiously optimistic that the catalog description might turn off potential buyers, leaving me to swoop in and grab a toy that I knew was pretty darn close to perfect.

And guess what? That's exactly what happened. On the night of the auction -- actually, the next morning, but that's a story for a different blog post -- I emerged from a fierce battle against... one other bidder. Who only threw in one half-hearted bid, leaving me as the last man standing and the owner of my very own blue Smoking Robot.

The tag from the Robert Lesser auction.

The moral of this story? Never assume that a toy is beyond your reach. Too rare, too expensive, too popular -- dookie! Keep your eyes peeled, do your research, save up some emergency cash, and be patient. The right toy will come along and you'll add that dream robot to your shelf. It's happened to me twice... but that's another story about another robot for another time.