This isn't a comic book or a graphic novel, even though it looks like one at first glance. No, this is an artist's own exploration of his craft, his influences and inspiration and the perceptions those might have of his work and other pin-up artists. It's a refreshingly honest look at a kind of art one doesn't really consider as art at first. Silke takes his work seriously, but not too seriously, and there's no denying the skill that goes into his pin-up artwork. I wouldn't have thought someone could have so much to say about such a specialized creative field, but the essays never get boring. After finishing the book, I found myself wanting more... but not more pin-up art. I was looking for more diversity -- in style, in content and context.
The most interesting and enlightening aspect of the book is actually Silke's exploration of the work of others who came before him, who inspired him. I don't think I realized -- or at least, I forgot -- that using sex to sell things is hardly limited to the last couple of decades. Silke explores pop art -- pin-ups, advertisement images, magazine covers -- of the 1930s, '40s and '50s, and I was taken aback by some of the more risque and voluptuous images to be found in those periods. We think of early 20th century America as a repressed place, and the prominence of sexuality in mainstream media even then is powerful.
It was also interesting to see that Silke enjoys working with the same models and enjoys bringing the soft lines of the same celebrities to life on paper over and over again. It was fun for a while to see the same likeness popping up, recognizing the same face in a completely new setting and scenario. I also appreciate Silke's emphasis on the importance of the model's contribution to his work. I have to admit, though, that I started to tire of seeing the same women over and over and over again. The sheer repetition of seeing model Lisa Marie Scott's likeness time and time again detracted from her exotic beauty.
There's also no denying that this is all about eye candy. Silke puts an impressive level of detail into his work, and I like the almost divine atmosphere he instills in many of his pieces, even the nudes. But there's not really much in the way of storytelling in those pin-ups. This is gratuitous art, celebrating only the ideal female frame. I wished there was more of a variety in the body types Silke illustrates. The models' forms are too ideal, and at a certain point, that stops being attractive. I won't lie to you... if I saw a Lisa Marie Scott type walk past me on the street, that male urge to turn and look would be there. But if a crowd of them walked by, it would be other women that would bring out that reaction. Silke's visual definition of beauty seems too limited here.
Also too limited is the scope of Silke's art. I realize the book is called Pin-Up, but it's a shame it's not about Silke's body of work as a whole. Let's see what's he's capable of. Let's see the sequential art that's only touched upon ever so briefly. I want to see some range, and I know Silke has it. 5/10
Note: This book was not among this week's new releases.
