5,000 Classic Movie Posters Digitized & Put Online: Free to Browse & Download

Who hasn’t pinned one of Saul Bass’ ele­gant film posters on their wall—either with thumb­tacks above the dorm room bed or in frame and glass in grown-up envi­rons? Or maybe it’s 70s kitsch you prefer—the art of the grind­house and sen­sa­tion­al­ist dri­ve-in exploita­tion film? Or 20s silent avant-garde, the cool noir of the 30s and 40s, 50s B‑grade sci-fi, 60s psy­che­delia and French New Wave, or 80s pop­corn flicks…? What­ev­er kind of cin­e­ma grabs your atten­tion prob­a­bly first grabbed your atten­tion through the design of the movie poster, a genre that gets its due in nov­el­ty shops and spe­cial­ist exhi­bi­tions, but often goes unher­ald­ed in pop­u­lar con­cep­tions of art.

Despite its util­i­tar­i­an and unabashed­ly com­mer­cial func­tion, the movie poster can just as well be a work of art as any oth­er form. Fail­ing that, movie posters are at least always essen­tial archival arti­facts, snap­shots of the weird col­lec­tive uncon­scious of mass cul­ture: from Saul and Elaine Bass’ min­i­mal­ist poster for West Side Sto­ry (1961), “with its bright orange-red back­ground over the title with a sil­hou­ette of a fire escape with dancers” to more com­plex tableaux, like the bald­ly neo-impe­ri­al­ist Africa Texas Style! (1967), “which fea­tures a real­is­tic image of the pro­tag­o­nist on a horse, las­so­ing a zebra in front of a stam­pede of wilde­beest, ele­phants, and giraffes.”

These two descrip­tions only hint at the range of posters archived at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Texas Har­ry Ran­som Cen­ter—upwards of 5,000 in all, “from when the film indus­try was just begin­ning to com­pete with vaude­ville acts in the 1920s to the rise of the mod­ern megaplex and dri­ve-in the­aters in the 1970s.” So wrote Erin Willard in the Ran­som Center’s 2018 announce­ment of the dig­i­ti­za­tion of its mas­sive col­lec­tion. Thou­sands of posters have been pho­tographed and are avail­able online, down­load­able in “Large” and “Extra Large” res­o­lu­tions.

The bulk of the col­lec­tion comes from the Inter­state The­ater Circuit—a chain that, at one time, “con­sist­ed of almost every movie the­ater in Texas”—and encom­pass­es not only posters but film stills, lob­by cards, and press books from “the 1940s through the 1970s with a par­tic­u­lar strength in the films of the 1950s and 60s, includ­ing musi­cals, epics, west­erns, sword and san­dal, hor­ror, and counter cul­ture films.” Oth­er indi­vid­ual col­lec­tors have made siz­able dona­tions of their posters to the cen­ter, and the result is a tour of the many spec­ta­cles avail­able to the mid-cen­tu­ry Amer­i­can mind: lurid, vio­lent excess­es, maudlin mor­al­iz­ing, bizarre erot­ic fan­tasies, dime-store ado­les­cent adven­tures.…

Some of the films are well-known exam­ples from the peri­od; most of them are not, and there­in lies the thrill of brows­ing this online repos­i­to­ry, dis­cov­er­ing obscure odd­i­ties like the 1956 film Bare­foot Bat­tal­ion, in which “teen-age wolf packs become heroes in a nation’s fight for free­dom!” The num­ber of quirks and kinks on dis­play offers us a pruri­ent view of a decade too often flat­ly char­ac­ter­ized by its pen­chant for gray flan­nel suits. The Mad Men era was a peri­od of insti­tu­tion­al repres­sion and ram­pant sex­u­al harass­ment, not unlike our own time. It was also a lab­o­ra­to­ry for a libidi­nous anar­chy that threat­ened to unleash the pent-up ener­gy and cul­tur­al anx­i­ety of mil­lions of frus­trat­ed teenagers onto the world at large, as would hap­pen in the decades to come.

What we see in the mar­ket­ing of films like Five Brand­ed Women (1960) will vary wide­ly depend­ing on our ori­en­ta­tions and polit­i­cal sen­si­bil­i­ties. Is this cheap exploita­tion or an empow­er­ing pre­cur­sor to Mad Max: Fury Road? Maybe both. For cul­tur­al the­o­rists and film his­to­ri­ans, these pulpy adver­tise­ments offer win­dows into the psy­ches of their audi­ences and the film­mak­ers and pro­duc­tion com­pa­nies who gave them what they sup­pos­ed­ly want­ed. For the ordi­nary film buff, the Ran­som Cen­ter col­lec­tion offers eye can­dy of all sorts, and if they hap­pen to own a high-qual­i­ty print­er, the chance to hang posters on their wall that they prob­a­bly won’t see any­where else. Enter the online col­lec­tion here.

Note: An ear­li­er ver­sion of this post appeared on our site in 2018.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

An Archive of 20,000 Movie Posters from Czecho­slo­va­kia (1930–1989)

40,000 Film Posters in a Won­der­ful­ly Eclec­tic Archive: Ital­ian Tarkovsky Posters, Japan­ese Orson Welles, Czech Woody Allen & Much More

The Film Posters of the Russ­ian Avant-Garde

A Look Inside Mar­tin Scorsese’s Vin­tage Movie Poster Col­lec­tion

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC.

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Read 20,000+ Golden Age Comic Books Free Online: Superheroes, Westerns, Romance, Horror, and More

For gen­er­a­tions of kids in the twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry, few plea­sures were as intox­i­cat­ing as a trip to the com­ic-book shop with the week’s allowance fresh in hand. Those of us who grew up in the nineties had any num­ber of high-pro­duc­tion-val­ue paper super­hero spec­ta­cles from major pub­lish­ers on which to blow our mon­ey. Per­son­al­ly, I pre­ferred the greater val­ue of Carl Barks’ old Uncle Scrooge and Don­ald Duck sto­ries then being reprint­ed. But noth­ing offered quite so much val­ue as the card­board box­es, kept below the main shelves, filled as they were with pre­vi­ous­ly owned com­ic books from the fifties, six­ties, sev­en­ties, and eight­ies. As I recall, a cou­ple of dol­lars could get you a whole after­noon’s read­ing mate­r­i­al.

Now you don’t even need the cou­ple of dol­lars. Comicbooks.com has opened an online read­ing room stocked with more than 20,000 dig­i­tized and restored gold­en-age comics, with sev­er­al hun­dred more issues added every day. Though you may not find Don­ald Duck there, you will find oth­er “fun­ny ani­mals” — as enthu­si­asts call them — like Dizzy Duck, Lucky Duck, Super Duck Comics, and Won­der Duck in Adven­ture at the Rodeo of the Fear­less Quack­er.

Those already famil­iar with the all-Amer­i­can exploits of Archie and his Riverdale High coterie might con­sid­er such alter­na­tives as Can­dy, Tip­py Teen, and Hap Haz­ard. And who needs Super­man and Bat­man when you can enjoy the super-hero­ic adven­tures of Sky­man, Bul­let­man, Cat-Man, and Strong Man?

Giv­en the main­stream promi­nence of com­ic books in the mid-twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry, these most­ly for­got­ten pub­li­ca­tions now con­sti­tute an espe­cial­ly vivid — at times even lurid — means of pop-cul­tur­al time trav­el, through their con­tent as well as their adver­tise­ments (for itch­ing pow­der and oth­er prac­ti­cal joke sup­plies, mus­cle-build­ing and jiu-jit­su cours­es, war bonds, etc.). In any genre, whether super­hero, west­ern, romance, fun­ny ani­mal, hor­ror, sci­ence fic­tion, they offer a con­nec­tion with read­ers of decades past. In their form, as you can see on Comicbooks.com’s time­line of the evo­lu­tion of what the French call le neu­vième art, they offer a con­nec­tion with even more dis­tant ones: those of  pulp fic­tion, humor week­lies, chro­molith­o­graph car­toons, pen­ny dread­fuls, and twelfth-cen­tu­ry Japan­ese chōjū-giga scrolls — the orig­i­nal fun­ny ani­mals. Enter the free com­ic col­lec­tion here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free: Down­load 15,000+ Free Gold­en Age Comics from the Dig­i­tal Com­ic Muse­um

Down­load Over 22,000 Gold­en & Sil­ver Age Com­ic Books from the Com­ic Book Plus Archive

The Comi­clo­pe­dia: An Online Archive of 14,000 Com­ic Artists, From Stan Lee and Jack Kir­by, to Mœbius and Hergé

Explore a Big Archive of Vin­tage Ear­ly Comics: 1700–1929

R.I.P. Stan Lee: Take His Free Online Course “The Rise of Super­heroes and Their Impact On Pop Cul­ture”

The Pulp Fic­tion Archive: The Cheap, Thrilling Sto­ries That Enter­tained a Gen­er­a­tion of Read­ers (1896–1946)

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. He’s the author of the newslet­ter Books on Cities as well as the books 한국 요약 금지 (No Sum­ma­riz­ing Korea) and Kore­an Newtro. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

A Free Online Archive Lets You Explore 5.8 Million Works of Art Spanning 5,000 Years of History

Though it’s tra­di­tion­al­ly meant “last in a pro­gres­sion or series,” as Mer­ri­am-Web­ster puts it, the word ulti­mate has been more often used in recent decades to mean “the best or most extreme of its kind.” The name of a recent­ly launched dig­i­tal archive per­forms a rare inver­sion, label­ing as last a cre­ation marked not by final­i­ty but extrem­i­ty. Billed as “the largest search engine for muse­um art,” The Last Muse­um cur­rent­ly index­es around five mil­lion art­works, both those in the pub­lic domain and those cov­ered by fair use. What­ev­er sort of art you wish to see, just describe it in the search bar, hit enter, and enjoy the numer­ous and diverse results from through­out his­to­ry and all around the world.

“Rather than func­tion­ing as a muse­um itself, the web­site aggre­gates pub­licly avail­able col­lec­tion records and images from thou­sands of insti­tu­tions, allow­ing vis­i­tors to explore every­thing from Old Mas­ter paint­ings and ancient Egypt­ian sculp­ture to Japan­ese wood­block prints and vin­tage comics in one place,” writes Sage Helene at My Mod­ern Met.

“Vis­i­tors can search by themes, moods, col­ors, sub­jects, or descrip­tive phras­es with­out know­ing an artwork’s title or artist. The sys­tem iden­ti­fies relat­ed con­cepts and returns visu­al­ly and the­mat­i­cal­ly con­nect­ed works, mak­ing it easy to dis­cov­er unex­pect­ed pieces across cul­tures, time peri­ods, and col­lec­tions.” Its cre­ators under­stand that the val­ue of search lies in not just effi­cien­cy, but also sur­prise — not that the user expe­ri­ence is entire­ly “vibes-based,” as the kids today might say.

Though the search results can come, by default, from any time between 3000 BC and the cur­rent year, you can nar­row the his­tor­i­cal range by drag­ging the ends of the blue time­line inward. And if you pre­fer more spe­cif­ic brows­ing, you can also nav­i­gate through its lists of cul­tures or muse­ums.  The for­mer includes every­thing from French, Roman, and Japan­ese (with a strong selec­tion of wood­block prints), to Cham­pa, Tajik, and Basque. The lat­ter includes the British Muse­um, the Rijksmu­se­um, and the Met­ro­pol­i­tan Muse­um of Art, as well as the likes of the HNM-PCC Hun­gar­i­an Nation­al Muse­um, the Turin Nation­al Uni­ver­si­ty Library, and the Bath Postal Muse­um: insti­tu­tions you can nev­er be sure when you’ll vis­it next. There will, of course, be more muse­ums found­ed in the future. But if things go accord­ing to plan, none of their hold­ings will escape The Last Muse­um’s ever-widen­ing dig­i­tal net. Enter the dig­i­tal col­lec­tion here.

via MyMod­ern­Met

Relat­ed con­tent:

Explore the New­ly Launched Pub­lic Domain Image Archive with 10,000+ Free His­tor­i­cal Images

Public.Work: A Smooth­ly Search­able Archive of 100,000+ “Copy­right-Free” Images

A Search Engine for Find­ing Free, Pub­lic Domain Images from World-Class Muse­ums

The Get­ty Makes Near­ly 88,000 Art Images Free to Use How­ev­er You Like

Down­load Great Works of Art from 40+ Muse­ums World­wide: Explore Artvee, the New Art Search Engine

Cre­ative Com­mons Offi­cial­ly Launch­es a Search Engine That Index­es 300+ Mil­lion Pub­lic Domain Images

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. He’s the author of the newslet­ter Books on Cities as well as the books 한국 요약 금지 (No Sum­ma­riz­ing Korea) and Kore­an Newtro. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

10,000 Chicago Concert Recordings Are Being Uploaded to the Internet Archive: Nirvana, Phish, Sonic Youth, They Might Be Giants & More

Per­haps you’ve had the expe­ri­ence of mov­ing to a new city and imme­di­ate­ly being told that you’ve missed its gold­en age of live music. To an extent, this has hap­pened in more or less every peri­od of the past fifty or six­ty years. But what if the per­son regal­ing you with those sto­ries had an archive of more than 10,000 con­cert record­ings to back them up? Chicago’s Aadam Jacobs has made just such an archive, and a few years ago he and it became the sub­ject of Katlin Schnei­der’s doc­u­men­tary Melo­ma­ni­ac. Apart from their sto­ries of Jacobs’ exploits with his increas­ing­ly bulky record­ing rig, the var­i­ous rock musi­cians and club own­ers inter­viewed there­in express one con­cern above all: what will become of all his tapes in the future?

As so often, the Inter­net Archive has come to save the day. At its new­ly opened Aadam Jacobs Archive, you can now lis­ten to near­ly 2,500 of the con­cert record­ings that vol­un­teers have dig­i­tized and uploaded so far. In that more than a ter­abyte of files, you’ll find con­certs by Nir­vana, Phish, Tra­cy Chap­man, Depeche Mode, Flam­ing Lips, Stere­o­lab, Liz Phair, Son­ic Youth, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, Björk, They Might Be Giants (record­ed four times in 1988 alone), and the Mekons, among many oth­ers.

If you have a cer­tain taste in rock — and espe­cial­ly if you belong to a cer­tain gen­er­a­tion — you may well, in the full­ness of time, find a Jacobs-record­ed show by your favorite band. But you’re just as like­ly to dis­cov­er a per­for­mance by the best act you’ve nev­er heard of before.

Pur­su­ing his avo­ca­tion of con­cert-record­ing with the indus­tri­ous­ness of a pro­fes­sion­al, and indeed an obses­sive one, Jacobs cap­tured mul­ti­ple shows each night at the height of his activ­i­ty. He has his par­tic­u­lar tastes, as empha­sized in Melo­ma­ni­ac, but also demon­strates remark­ably lit­tle dis­crim­i­na­tion about which bands are “cool” and which aren’t, to say noth­ing of their lev­el of com­mer­cial suc­cess. When Chica­go musi­cians first saw Jacobs’ famil­iar long-haired, heavy-back­packed fig­ure turn up at their own shows, they knew they had a chance of “mak­ing it.” Even so, as Jacobs acknowl­edges, there’s scant cor­re­la­tion between which bands blew up, which bands he likes as peo­ple, and which bands have cre­at­ed his favorite records. His tapes con­sti­tute a valu­able record of the sound of Chica­go between the eight­ies and the twen­ty-tens, and it will only grow more so, the more acces­si­ble it becomes. But as we enjoy it, we should also bear in mind the efforts of the man who cre­at­ed it, and the love of music he per­son­i­fies. Enter the archive here.

via Kot­tke

Relat­ed con­tent:

Jam­Base Launch­es a New Video Archive of 100,000 Stream­ing Con­certs: Phish, Wilco, the Avett Broth­ers, Grate­ful Dead & Much More

The Live Music Archive Lets You Stream/Download More Than 250,000 Con­cert Recordings–for Free

Stream a Mas­sive Archive of Grate­ful Dead Con­certs from 1965–1995

Rock Scene: Browse a Com­plete Online Archive of the Irrev­er­ent Mag­a­zine That Chron­i­cled the 1970s Rock & Punk Scene

Free Archive of Audio Inter­views with Rock, Jazz & Folk Leg­ends Now on iTunes

Nir­vana Before They Were Nir­vana: Watch Their 1988 Per­for­mance Record­ed in a Radio Shack

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. He’s the author of the newslet­ter Books on Cities as well as the books 한국 요약 금지 (No Sum­ma­riz­ing Korea) and Kore­an Newtro. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Explore 1,000,000 Digitized Artworks from Across the UK: Paintings, Sculptures, Street Art & More

No art enthu­si­ast’s vis­it to the Unit­ed King­dom would be com­plete with­out days at the British Muse­um, the Tate, the V&A and the Nation­al Gallery. The fact that all those respect­ed insti­tu­tions are in Lon­don con­sti­tutes a plau­si­ble excuse nev­er to stray out­side the cap­i­tal. But that cap­i­tal is sur­round­ed, lest we for­get, by not just a whole coun­try, but a whole Unit­ed King­dom’s worth of coun­tries. Each region of Eng­land has its own muse­ums and gal­leries worth vis­it­ing, and so do Scot­land, Wales, and North­ern Ire­land. But why just vis­it muse­ums and gal­leries? Uni­ver­si­ties, libraries, town halls, hos­pi­tals, homes: these places and more also put art on dis­play for any­one who cares to vis­it them, which you can now do not just phys­i­cal­ly, but also online at Art UK.

A free-to-all por­tal that “con­nects every­one with the UK’s pub­lic art col­lec­tions,” Art UK has tak­en it as its mis­sion to “dig­i­tal­ly unite one mil­lion art­works from 3,500 insti­tu­tions.” Some of the most pop­u­lar of the rough­ly 70,000 artists whose work it makes avail­able to view online include Fran­cis Bacon, Agnes Mar­tin, Sal­vador Dalí, Andy Warhol, Tracey Emin, Paul Gau­guin, Con­stan­tin Brân­cuși, Damien Hirst, and Yay­oi Kusama.

As even that short list reflects, what’s on dig­i­tal dis­play at Art UK is by no means lim­it­ed to British works, nor are there any restric­tions on medi­um or sen­si­bil­i­ty. Paint­ings, draw­ings, pho­tographs, sculp­tures, ceram­ics, dig­i­tal art: if it’s held at a UK insti­tu­tion, it’s avail­able for your view­ing plea­sure — or your edu­ca­tion, your research, what­ev­er your pur­pose may be.

A decade into Art UK’s evo­lu­tion, one of the most fas­ci­nat­ing sec­tions of its dig­i­tal hold­ings may hard­ly con­tain any work by artists whose names you’ve heard. That’s because it’s a col­lec­tion of the UK’s murals and street art, whose dig­i­ti­za­tion began in ear­ly 2024. “The project fol­lowed the suc­cess­ful, award-win­ning sculp­ture dig­i­ti­za­tion and engage­ment project, which firm­ly estab­lished Art UK as the home for show­cas­ing the UK’s pub­lic realm art­works,” writes pho­tog­ra­ph­er Tra­cy Jenk­ins. “We have now record­ed over 6,600 murals, bring­ing the total num­ber of pub­lic art­works on the web­site to 21,400.” Dat­ing from 1000 AD to the present, these “include wall paint­ings in his­toric church­es, post-war ceram­ic and con­crete works, and con­tem­po­rary paint­ed murals and mosaics.” Col­lec­tive­ly, they remind us that, in our haste to tour the most august tem­ples of art, we ignore at our per­il the muse­ums with­out walls — or rather, the muse­ums that are walls. Enter Art UK here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The British Muse­um Puts 1.9 Mil­lion Works of Art Online

Down­load 60,000 Works of Art from the Nation­al Gallery, Includ­ing Mas­ter­pieces by Van Gogh, Gau­guin, Rem­brandt & More

Art Trips: Vis­it the Art of Cities Around the World, from Los Ange­les & Lon­don, to Venice and New York

Great Art Cities: Vis­it the Fas­ci­nat­ing, Less­er-Known Muse­ums of Lon­don & Paris

Google Puts Online 10,000 Works of Street Art from Across the Globe

The British Muse­um is Full of Loot­ed Arti­facts

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. He’s the author of the newslet­ter Books on Cities as well as the books 한국 요약 금지 (No Sum­ma­riz­ing Korea) and Kore­an Newtro. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Every Known Work by Georgia O’Keeffe Has Been Digitized and Made Available Online

Upon hear­ing the names of Arthur Dove or Mars­den Hart­ley, the sat­u­rat­ed col­ors and organ­i­cal­ly askew lines of those painters’ land­scapes may appear before your mind’s eye. But unless you have a spe­cial inter­est in Amer­i­can mod­ernists of the ear­ly twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry, they prob­a­bly don’t. The name Geor­gia O’Ke­effe, by con­trast, can hard­ly fail to bring a few images even to the mind of the strict­ly casu­al art appre­ci­a­tor: New Mex­i­can mesas, ani­mal skulls, and above all flow­ers in extreme close-up. Apart from the artis­tic skill and dis­tinc­tive vision with which she cre­at­ed it, O’Ke­ef­fe’s work per­sists in the wider cul­ture because of how well it hap­pens to repro­duce in a vari­ety of con­texts, includ­ing post­cards, mugs, and even appar­el, such as that sold at her epony­mous muse­um in San­ta Fe.

Keep­ing such prod­ucts around is, of course, no sub­sti­tute for see­ing the real thing; in their phys­i­cal real­i­ty, O’Ke­ef­fe’s paint­ings have a way of rebuff­ing all the inter­pre­ta­tions with which they’ve been freight­ed for more than a cen­tu­ry now. If you can’t make it out to New Mex­i­co, the Geor­gia O’Ke­effe Muse­um has been work­ing to make every sin­gle one of her pieces (includ­ing sculp­tures and pho­tographs) avail­able for view­ing online at a just-launched por­tal called Access O’Ke­effe.

The muse­um describes it as a “user-friend­ly, search­able web­site with high-res­o­lu­tion images, visu­al descrip­tions, exhi­bi­tion his­to­ries, archival mate­ri­als, and research data asso­ci­at­ed with the artist’s two-vol­ume cat­a­logue raison­né.” The site’s vis­i­tors “can browse by col­or, shape, or medi­um, explore the con­text of works cre­at­ed before and after a spe­cif­ic paint­ing, trace his­toric exhi­bi­tions, cre­ate lists of favorites, and down­load images.”

Access O’Ke­effe makes it easy to find the artist’s most famous paint­ings, but also works that may sur­prise view­ers who only know her mesas, skulls, and flow­ers. Take, for exam­ple, such noc­tur­nal­ly themed can­vas­es as her ear­ly Starlight Night, from 1917, or her late Unti­tled (City Night), from the nine­teen-sev­en­ties. O’Ke­ef­fe’s Amer­i­ca, we must remem­ber, isn’t lim­it­ed to the desert: though she did spend most of her near­ly cen­tu­ry-long life’s sec­ond half in New Mex­i­co, it also took her from Wis­con­sin to Vir­ginia to Texas to New York, with stints in South Car­oli­na and Hawaii. Giv­en the impor­tance of under­stand­ing any artist’s con­texts both geo­graph­i­cal and social, Access O’Ke­effe also pro­vides an archive of arti­facts and exhi­bi­tions relat­ed to the peo­ple and orga­ni­za­tions asso­ci­at­ed with her — Arthur Dove and Mars­den Hart­ley includ­ed.

Relat­ed con­tent:

Geor­gia O’Keeffe: A Life in Art, a Short Doc­u­men­tary on the Painter Nar­rat­ed by Gene Hack­man

How Geor­gia O’Keeffe Became Geor­gia O’Keeffe: An Ani­mat­ed Video Tells the Sto­ry

An Intro­duc­tion to the Paint­ing That Changed Geor­gia O’Keeffe’s Career: Ram’s Head, White Hol­ly­hock-Hills

The Real Geor­gia O’Keeffe: The Artist Reveals Her­self in Vin­tage Doc­u­men­tary Clips

Recipes from the Kitchen of Geor­gia O’Keeffe

Alfred Stieglitz: The Elo­quent Eye, a Reveal­ing Look at “The Father of Mod­ern Pho­tog­ra­phy”

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. He’s the author of the newslet­ter Books on Cities as well as the books 한국 요약 금지 (No Sum­ma­riz­ing Korea) and Kore­an Newtro. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

A Complete Digitization of Leonardo Da Vinci’s Codex Atlanticus, the Largest Collection of His Drawings & Writings

No his­tor­i­cal fig­ure bet­ter fits the def­i­n­i­tion of “Renais­sance man” than Leonar­do da Vin­ci, but that term has become so overused as to become mis­lead­ing. We use it to express mild sur­prise that one per­son could use both their left and right hemi­spheres equal­ly well. But in Leonardo’s day, peo­ple did not think of them­selves as hav­ing two brains, and the worlds of art and sci­ence were not so far apart as they are now.

That Leonar­do was able to com­bine fine arts and fine engi­neer­ing may not have been over­ly sur­pris­ing to his con­tem­po­raries, though he was an extra­or­di­nar­i­ly bril­liant exam­ple of the phe­nom­e­non. The more we learn about him, the more we see how close­ly relat­ed the two pur­suits were in his mind.

He approached every­thing he did as a tech­ni­cian. The uncan­ny effects he achieved in paint­ing were the result, as in so much Renais­sance art, of math­e­mat­i­cal pre­ci­sion, care­ful study, and first­hand obser­va­tion.

His artis­tic projects were also exper­i­ments. Some of them failed, as most exper­i­ments do, and some he aban­doned, as he did so many sci­en­tif­ic projects. No mat­ter what, he nev­er under­took any­thing, whether mechan­i­cal, anatom­i­cal, or artis­tic, with­out care­ful plan­ning and design, as his copi­ous note­books tes­ti­fy. As more and more of those note­books have become avail­able online, both Renais­sance schol­ars and laypeo­ple alike have learned con­sid­er­ably more about how Leonardo’s mind worked.

First, there was the Codex Arun­del. It is, writes Jonathan Jones at The Guardian, “the liv­ing record of a uni­ver­sal mind”—but also, specif­i­cal­ly, the mind of a “technophile.” Then, the Vic­to­ria and Albert Nation­al Art Library announced the dig­i­ti­za­tion of Codex Forster, which con­tains some of Leonardo’s ear­li­est note­books. Now The Visu­al Agency has released a com­plete dig­i­ti­za­tion of Leonardo’s Codex Atlanti­cus, a huge col­lec­tion of the artist, engi­neer, and inventor’s fine­ly-illus­trat­ed notes.

“No oth­er col­lec­tion counts more orig­i­nal papers writ­ten by Leonar­do,” notes Google. The Codex Atlanti­cus “con­sists of 1119 papers, most of them drawn or writ­ten on both sides.” Its name has “noth­ing to do with the Atlantic Ocean, or with some eso­teric, mys­te­ri­ous con­tent hid­den in its pages.” The 12-vol­ume col­lec­tion acquired its title because the draw­ings and writ­ings were bound with the same size paper that was used for mak­ing atlases. Gath­ered in the 16th cen­tu­ry by sculp­tor Pom­peo Leoni, the papers descend­ed from Leonardo’s close stu­dent Gio­van Francesco Melzi, who was entrust­ed with them after his teacher’s death.

The his­to­ry of the Codex itself makes for a fas­ci­nat­ing nar­ra­tive, much of which you can learn at Google’s Ten Key Facts slideshow. The note­books span Leonardo’s career, from 1478, when he was “still work­ing in his native Tus­cany, to 1519, when he died in France.” The col­lec­tion was tak­en from Milan by Napoleon and brought to France, where it remained in the Lou­vre until 1815, when the Con­gress of Vien­na ruled that all art­works stolen by the for­mer Emper­or be returned. (The emis­sary tasked with return­ing the Codex could not deci­pher Leonardo’s mir­ror writ­ing and took it for Chi­nese.)

The Codex con­tains not only engi­neer­ing dia­grams, anato­my stud­ies, and artis­tic sketch­es, but also fables writ­ten by Leonar­do, inspired by Flo­ren­tine lit­er­a­ture. And it fea­tures Leonardo’s famed “CV,” a let­ter he wrote to the Duke of Milan describ­ing in nine points his qual­i­fi­ca­tions for the post of mil­i­tary engi­neer. In point four, he writes, “I still have very con­ve­nient bomb­ing meth­ods that are easy to trans­port; they launch stones and sim­i­lar such in a tem­pest full of smoke to fright­en the ene­my, caus­ing great dam­age and con­fu­sion.”

As if in illus­tra­tion, else­where in the Codex, the draw­ing above appears, “one of the most cel­e­brat­ed” of the col­lec­tion.” It was “shown to trav­el­ing for­eign­ers vis­it­ing the Ambrosiana [the Bib­liote­ca Ambrosiana in Milan, where the Codex resides] since the 18th cen­tu­ry, usu­al­ly arous­ing much amaze­ment.” It is still amaz­ing, espe­cial­ly if we con­sid­er the pos­si­bil­i­ty that its artistry might have been some­thing of a byprod­uct for its cre­ator, whose pri­ma­ry moti­va­tion seems to have been solv­ing tech­ni­cal problems—in the most ele­gant ways imag­in­able.

See the com­plete dig­i­ti­za­tion of Leonardo’s Codex Atlanti­cus here.

Note: An ear­li­er ver­sion of this post appeared on our site in 2019.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Leonar­do da Vinci’s Ear­li­est Note­books Now Dig­i­tized and Made Free Online: Explore His Inge­nious Draw­ings, Dia­grams, Mir­ror Writ­ing & More

How Leonar­do da Vin­ci Drew an Accu­rate Satel­lite Map of an Ital­ian City (1502)

Leonar­do da Vinci’s Hand­writ­ten Resume (Cir­ca 1482)

Leonar­do Da Vinci’s To-Do List from 1490: The Plan of a Renais­sance Man

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. 

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Explore the Newly-Launched Public Domain Image Archive with 10,000+ Free Historical Images

We’ve often fea­tured the work of the Pub­lic Domain Review here on Open Cul­ture, and also var­i­ous search­able copy­right-free image data­bas­es that have arisen over the years. It makes sense that those two worlds would col­lide, and now they’ve done so in the form of the just-launched Pub­lic Domain Image Archive (PDIA). The Pub­lic Domain Review invites us to use the site to “explore our hand-picked col­lec­tion of 10,046 out-of-copy­right works, free for all to browse, down­load, and reuse” — and note that the num­ber will grow, giv­en that “this is a liv­ing data­base with new images added every week.”

As with any por­tal of this kind, you can browse by cat­e­go­ry tags, the selec­tion of which includes every­thing from archi­tec­ture to dec­o­ra­tions to occultism to war. But if you’d like to get a sense of the sheer for­mal, aes­thet­ic, cul­tur­al, and his­tor­i­cal vari­ety of the PDIA, you might con­sid­er tak­ing a first look through its “infi­nite view,” which allows you to scroll in all direc­tions through a lim­it­less labyrinth of copy­right-free won­ders: adver­tise­ments, Bib­li­cal scenes, old-time sports­men, out­er-space pho­tos, mush­rooms, medieval musi­cal crea­tures, let­ter­forms, and, well, labyrinths.

You might also rec­og­nize items you’ve seen here on Open Cul­ture before, like the nature draw­ings of Ernst Haeck­el, the mod­ern art-lam­poon­ing chil­dren’s book The Cubies’ ABC, or the ghosts and mon­sters illus­trat­ed by ukiyo‑e mas­ter Hoku­sai. The PDIA pro­vides more con­text than some pub­lic-domain image archives, even link­ing to rel­e­vant Pub­lic Domain Review posts, where you can read about such top­ics as Emi­ly Noyes Vanderpoel’s col­or analy­sis charts (which also inspired a post of ours), the end of books (as pre­dict­ed in 1894), and even “Cats and Cap­tions before the Inter­net Age.” Hav­ing fall­en into the pub­lic domain, all this mate­r­i­al is, of course, avail­able to use for any pur­pose you like — includ­ing just sat­is­fy­ing your own curios­i­ty.

Relat­ed com­ments:

The New York Pub­lic Library Presents an Archive of 860,000 His­tor­i­cal Images: Down­load Medieval Man­u­scripts, Japan­ese Prints, William Blake Illus­tra­tions & More

A Search Engine for Find­ing Free, Pub­lic Domain Images from World-Class Muse­ums

The British Library Puts Over 1,000,000 Images in the Pub­lic Domain: A Deep­er Dive Into the Col­lec­tion

Public.Work: A Smooth­ly Search­able Archive of 100,000+ “Copy­right-Free” Images

Sea-Ser­pents, Vam­pires, Pirates & More: The Pub­lic Domain Review’s Sec­ond Book of Essays

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities and the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

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