By Bob Behounek
Posted on Friday, October 18th, 2024
When one of the first indoor shopping malls in my area opened in the late 1960s, it brought in many stores from other parts of town. This new concept in indoor shopping was different and exciting. Around these parts, winter gets pretty nasty, and any place warm is a great place to hang out. Plus, my interest in advertising and signs had me wide-eyed and ready to soak up any kind of graphic inspiration I could see.
I remember my grandparents taking me down to Chicago’s Michigan Avenue during the Christmas season when I was young. As they pointed out the toys and decorations that graced the store windows, what really caught my attention were the hand-lettered showcards sprinkled throughout the displays.
I was too young to be able to read them all; nonetheless, they were fun to look at. I even asked if I could ask Santa for a few of them for Christmas. I saw no reason why the old guy from the North Pole couldn’t stuff my stocking with fine, lettered showcards. I know my grandparents weren’t sure how to handle that one.
I think that was the Christmas I received a “Mister Machine” instead. Oh, well. What I saw that day was most likely some of the very best showcard work that the sign writers of that era had created.
As I walked through this new indoor mall, there were stores that I had never known existed. Did you know that certain sign painters worked for certain stores exclusively? I saw some card work similar to what I remembered from my Christmas adventure with my grandparents many years before. I was awestruck and without a camera that day. These showcards were fresh, spunky and had plenty of color and snap. I was amazed by their simplicity. I even tried to buy one of the showcards at one store. Unfortunately, the showcards were not for sale.
When I landed my first job in the sign business in 1969, I had the pleasure of working alongside one of Chicago’s best lettering artists: Walter Zimmer, a showcard writer by trade and an excellent sign painter, to boot. Wally wasn’t stingy when it came to teaching me the fine art of showcard writing.
That was an era chock-full of master lettering and pictorial artists. You could witness their work in almost every window in town. I truly believe Wally’s work was some of the showcards I had seen during that cold Christmas trip with my grandparents. When we’re young, we all get inspired by things we see, and those powerful memories certainly last forever.
The showcards you see here are two different mediums, both done on a bench slanted approximately 30 degrees. No hand over hand or use of a mahlstick here—this is what was once considered “showcard” style lettering. Some are bona fide showcards done the same way they were “back in the day,” on card stock with watercolors. The others used the same principles and bench angle but were done on aluminum with lettering enamel, using gray quill brushes and enamel paint.
Either way, they were show signs with a snap and were fun to do. You can still see signs like these at car and motorcycle shows—giving you the details on a unique vehicle in a unique way.
The 1927 Model T aluminum sign was painted on an aluminum panel with a very glossy automotive polyurethane. It incorporates 23K gold leaf, just as a set of truck doors of that era might.
Our silly Fickle Pickle sign was lettered with enamel on red baked aluminum. I used some red variegated leaf, too.
The $50 Each and the Harley Shovelhead signs incorporated papers that I cut out as background or color panels, spray gluing them to cardboard. This method speeds up placing color panels without adding drying time. It gives me an instant dry surface to keep working on. It also provides a completely opaque color panel, too. Sometimes I cut away the larger letters with an industrial knife. This eliminates double work. Why letter the same color as the card stock? All the other lettering was done with watercolor and red sable brushes.
The Beverly showcard is the closest to one of those Michigan Avenue advertisements that I spotted so many years ago. It’s white 14-ply card stock, done with all watercolor panels and lettering.
The 1970 Plymouth sign was black aluminum, lettered in enamels. I use gray-haired lettering quills for this work. They are somewhat stiffer, with a snap similar to a red sable brus
Bob Behounek has spent over 40 years as a sign artist and pinstriper in the Chicago, Illinois, area.
