Mexican artist Torres Palomar is the person behind the creation of the kalogramas, which he said “is the psychological portrait of an individual expressed in color with the letters of his name.” As of this writing, the earliest mention of him and his kalogramas was in The Craftsman, October 1914:
“Beauty-Letters
Down in Mexico City is a modest studio papered with hand-made paper, hung with
hand-woven curtains and draperies stenciled with curiously interesting medallions,
furnished with quaint hand-made tables, chairs and cabinets. Torres Palomar, a designer
of monograms, made this studio and all the things in it after his own ideas of beauty and
the need of individual expression. He lives there in the heart of that excitable city,
peacefully absorbed in combining letters of all languages into beautiful monograms or
kalogramas, as he calls them, a word of his invention meaning “beauty-letters.” A
monogram or kalogram is in reality but a little enigma, a rebus made up of the interlaced
or cleverly combined initials of a man's name, sometimes of the full name itself. To be
good, says this enthusiast, it must be easy to guess else it fails its purpose; besides,
complicated things are never beautiful. Monograms must be beautiful as well as useful.
There is a satisfaction in deciphering a good monogram, a pleasant sense of triumph. If
the design is confused so that the letters cannot be easily perceived, then it is
unsuccessful, for it carries with it an unpleasant impression of failure.
The work of Torres Palomar is distinguished for its originality of design, its harmonious
coloring, its legibility and its extreme simplicity. Monograms of his designing are full
of refreshing individuality, for he is a bit of a humorist, a kindly sympathetic one who
cannot help but make letters fittingly suitable to different personalities. So he makes
them gracious, dignified, severe, flippant, aristocratic, slender or heavy, as varied as
human nature itself. To the designing of these small intimate emblems of character,
intended for use on stationery and household napery, as bookplates, crests and seals, he
applies the big general principles of art.
Color and music harmonies are closely related according to him, and exercise a similar
fascination. The mere repetition of a geometrical pattern or of a color note does not
produce beauty or quicken the imagination any more than the repetition of a sound
produces music that appeals to the emotions. There must be a harmonious arrangement
or combination of form and of color to prevent monotony and bring about beauty. He
has learned to improvise with letters and colors, developing a multitude of harmonious
figures as a musician improvising with notes creates new and haunting melodies. His
improvisations spring from a long experience as an engraver, an invaluable experience
which gave him thorough acquaintance with the chemistry of colors and the technique
of printing. He has played with the letters of many ages, studied ancient Egyptian,
Arabic and Cufic inscriptions, examined old missiles, seals and devices of heraldry. So
beneath his impromptu kalogramas is a wide technical knowledge of the principles of
pure form and symbolism, as beneath the simplest melodies rest the complicated laws
of counterpoint.
Monograms in the form of a single sign, representing a name, have been in use from
the earliest ages. They were man’s first efforts at a signature, a crude attempt to imprint
his individuality upon objects, or to proclaim his ownership. More elaborate ones
composed of the several initials of a name have been found upon very ancient Greek
coins and upon medals and seals of Macedonia and Sicily. Popes, emperors and kings
of the Middle Ages used them in lieu of signatures. In Japan even today initial
monograms or those involving the full name, made up in the form of seals, are in
general use for signing pictures, letters, contracts, bills, receipts, etc. They are used, in
fact, wherever a personal signature is demanded, and most decorative objects they are
indeed, for they are often purely emblematic instead of kalographic. A seal, with a bit
of red wax, in cleverly contrived plain or ornamental cases, hangs from the girdles of
all men, whether workman, merchant or scholar.
The work of the early artists, engravers and craftsmen of Germany. Flanders and many
other European countries was signed solely with the initials of their makers, which
were frequently interwoven with figures of symbolic character. The most widely known
monogram is without doubt the ecclesiastic I. H. S., formed of the first three letters of
the Greek name of Jesus, or, as it is sometimes explained, of the first three letters of the
Latin sentence Jesus Hominum Salvatore (Jesus Savior of Men). The most common
form of monogram is the square, which represents the foundation principle of life, or
the circle, the line of perfection, which, like the infinite, is without beginning or end
and incloses all. Some of the simplest ones are a primitive sort of shorthand. A rebus
forming a pun upon a man’s surname was once extremely popular in England. Pictorial
signatures were also once in common use in England, as, for instance, the letter N
between crude sketches of an ox and a bridge, which plainly stands for Oxenbridge.
Many old English ideograms persist even unto today, such as lb. for pound and our
own mark $ for dollar.
Palomar moved to New York City around 1914. An exhibition of Palomar’s work, including some kalogramas, was at the Little Galleries of the Photo-Secession, 291 Fifth Avenue, New York City, from December 9th to January 9th. The show was mentioned in The Vassar Miscellany, December 17, 1914; American Art News, December 12, 1914, page two, column two; and the New York Times, December 20, 1914, column three.
Palomar wrote about his kalogramas in the article, “The Revival of the Cryptic Monogram”, for a 1915 issue of Harper’s Bazar. Some ofhis subjects were Gaby Deslys, Pavlova, Réjane, Mrs. Ogden L. Mills, Paul Poiret, Tzet Kranil, and Anatole France. Here are some excerpts:
…The making of beautiful letters is an art in itself. I have spent twenty years in studying
the making of Kalogramas and there is still so much to learn. Beautiful writing has been
numbered among the lost arts; in reviving the cryptic monogram and enlarging its scope,
I have been able to show that the simplest letter may be truly a work of art….
…My object is not only to make the letter combinations as beautiful as lies in my power,
but to read in them a meaning. In each of the perfected groupings, therefore, some
characteristic or achievement of the person is used as an inspiration….I try to get rhythm
and melody into each combination. One letter is always the key-note, and, as in music,
a certain motif is repeated throughout the whole combination….
…R is the most melodious letter of the alphabet. I love to draw it. M is also an inspiring
one to develop….
…There is much that is fascinating and even instructive in the development of these
name-plates. I first study the character and appearance of my clients and then draw
roughly a “tapestry” depicting the impressions I have received. This forms the
groundwork for the design which is finally created….
An article in the New York Herald, April 4, 1915, introduced the kalograma to a new audience.
Now the “Kalograma”
The origin of the “kalogramas” may be found in Chinese and Japanese antiquity
among the seals used by the nobility and famous artists. But between this far distant
chirographic art and the up to date kalogramas of Torres Palomar—the artist who
has made a specialty of designing them and who has lived most of his life in the
Orient—there is the same grade of distance that exists between the customs of these
ancient people and our modern life of refinement and extreme civilization.
Kalogramas (Greek from belles-lettres) are the seals made of one’s personal name
worked up to a superior form of art and beauty. They are something link an
aristocratic escutcheon of refinement and beauty, which, moreover, can tell the
character of the person to whom it belongs. For there is in the heraldic of modern
life the same thing as in a heraldic exemplary; the virtues of the possessor are
explained in the kalograma as in medieval blazon.
Kalogramas are most successfully employed in marking with these characters of
grace and personality the stationery of fastidious persons. It plays a dainty role when
used as embroidery on handkerchiefs and all sorts of lingerie.
Engraved or enameled on metals for the boudoir, for silverware or porcelain
hammered brass or beaten gold; they are also used as a modern blazon on leather
furniture, or are carved in wood.
They may be woven in carpets hangings for furniture, coverings, or painted on the
doors of carriages, automobiles, or sculpted in the architecture of residences, forged
in ironwork of fences, incrusted in marquetry in ceilings or floors. In fact, they
lend themselves as a beautiful ornamentation to all sorts of personal belongings.
Some of the kalogramas that have already been carried out are reproduced here
with a description of their coloring. That of Pierre Loti has the character of the
author who wrote “Aziyade” and “Fantom d‘Orient” delineated by the charming
arrangement of the profiled dark green letters which form his name. The letter O,
round and colored in a saffron tone, rises like a moon against a twilight sky which
could well be that of Islam, beloved of the writer. Loti wears a ring on his right
hand on which is engraved and enameled in colors the kalograma designed by
Torres Palomar.
Caruso’s kalograma is in gold, merging into silver, against a background of strong
indigo that grades to a Nattier blue.
For D’Annunzio there is a design of gold and blue on a white ground, and, struck
by the mystic quality in the works of the Italian master, the artist has tried, above
all, to express this quality.
Otero’s kalograma is black on green with thistle red, heightened by gold.
Vanity Fair took note of the kalogram’s popularity in its June 1915 issue with the article, “The Growing Fad of Kalograms and Nine Kalogrammic Designs by C.B. Falls.” Charles Buckles Falls produced designs for Isadora Duncan, Marie Doro, Ruth Chatterton, Irv or Ty Cobb, President Wilson, Vernon and Irene Castle, two others and himself. The magazine article, which was released in May, apparently caught the eye of a number of newspapers, including the Baltimore Sun, June 6, 1915, which ran the following article on its women’s page:
The New Fad Kalograms
Have you a kalogram? Do you know what a kalogram is? It is excusable not to.
Kalograms are a fashionable novelty recently introduced into everyday life.
They are a something more than monograms, filling the same role more adequately,
and also infinitely more difficult to create, so that a new calling for artists is created
and a “Kalogramist” or grammarian is likely to be a sign appearing on any jewelers
or stationers from now on.
Instead of your initials your entire Christian or surname or both—or the initial of one
and all the letters of the other go to compose the kalogram.
There are, of course, as many ways of constructing then as there are names. You
can take the first letter and if it be one with apertures, so to speak, group all the other
letters inside it. In a way it is merely a very complicated monogram that you have to
construct. One very unique kalogram consists of the printed initials of the first name,
with the surname written as the owner signs it, twisted about the initial and encircles
with a final swirl of the last pen stroke.
The outline of the kalogram can subtly suggest the character of the person to whom
it belongs. A man’s is usually stiff and square, a woman’s often graceful and much
more ornate.
It does not matter what kind you have, but, granted the fads of fashion interest you,
a kalogram there must be on your note paper, your hand bag, your handkerchief—
nor will your motor be quite in style without one.
The Washington Herald (District of Columbia) printed their article, “Have You a Kalograma?”, August 15, 1915. The graphics arts industry also took notice of the “kalogram”with this article in the American Printer, September 1915:
A New Idea in Personal Devices
The monogram as a personal device for stationery and advertising uses has been
cleverly developed into what is called the Kalogram, which, enlarging on the idea
of the monogram, includes all the letters of a name, arranged decoratively. The
four specimens reproduced below were designed by the Eclipse Electrotype and
Engraving Company, of Cleveland. They’re all different and all good, and indicate
the variety of treatment that is possible in the working out of the idea. These marks
are used for stationery, for bookplates, for the auto, and in a business way have
uses that are unlimited. Printers who wish to demonstrate to their customers that
they are thoroly [sic] up-to-date should make suggestions to them along these lines.
The following month, The Printing Art, October 1915, quoted the Vanity Fair article:
Behold the Kalogram
In one of its recent issues, Vanity Fair, that mixture of sweetness and light and social
devilishness, takes valuable space (which otherwise would be used to show pictures
of the omnipresent Castles and their dances), to tell us that “Nowadays, not to have a
Kalogram is to be socially ostracised [sic]. It is like not having a motor-car, or a Pom,
or a wrist-watch. Everybody’s doing it! A Kalogram must, of course, not only contain
one’s initials but every blessed letter in one’s surname, or Christian name, or both!
Here is a great chance for stationers, designers, artists — and lovers.”
We show here a number of Kalograms designed by the Eclipse Electrotype &
Engraving Company of Cleveland. There is evidence of enterprise in the display.
Someone in that company is watching the magazines and adapting some of the frittery
fads of society to profit-making. The Eclipse folks have a man whose brain is kinky
enough to design any kind of an eccentric Kalogram. The best evidence with which
to support that statement you will find on this page.
According to Rodolfo Mata’s article, “José Juan Tablada y Cuba” (see excerpt below), in Literatura Mexicana, XXII. 1, 2011, the poet, José Juan Tablada, shared an apartment, at one time, with Palomar. During his stay he drew a “kalogramas murals”.
Los años de 1915, 1916 y 1917 son oscuros en la vida de Tablada. No hay
publicaciones recogidas y muy pocas noticias. José María Gon zález de Mendoza
cuenta que al llegar a Nueva York se vio obligado a trabajar en una fábrica de focos
donde se olvidaron de pagarle la primera semana.10 En el cdRoM José Juan
Tablada: letra e imagen (poesía, prosa, obra gráfica y varia documental) las imágenes
ayudaron a establecer que en 1916 compartió un departamento con José Torres
Palomar y que ahí dibujó unos “kalogramas murales”, sus primeros poemas
ideográficos: “Talon rouge” y “El puñal”.11 Ya desde finales de 1916 hay indicios de
su cercanía con el consulado en Nueva York y, en 1917, muchas de las noticias
provienen de su casamiento con Nina Cabrera y del libro que ella escribió, José Juan
Tablada en la intimidad (1954).
In Arte y Artistas (2000) Tablada mentioned Palomar’s first exhibition and the success that followed: “...Luego triunfó, ¡qué friso aquel de kalogramas murales en su primera exposición! Obtuvo encargos remunerativos de kalogramas: Caruso, Vicente Astor, Sarah Bernhardt, Mrs. Ogden Mills…”
Palomar had another New York City exhibition which was called, “Kalogramas”, April 1918 at 520 Fifth Avenue. It was advertised in The Sun (New York), April 21.
Palomar’s work was written up in the New York Tribune, April 20, 1918:
An exhibition of Kalogramas by Torres Palomar is on public view at 520 Fifth Avenue.
Mr. Palomar states in his announcement card that “A Kalograma is the psychological
portrait of an individual expressed in color with the letters of his name.” In the
collection are psychological portraits of celebrities from “God, a Conception of the
Almighty,” to “Nabisco,” of the National Biscuit Company.
“God” is a kalograma in gold letters on a blue disc, which is pasted on a white disc
with a gray blur; this again is placed on a black disc, the whole being mounted on a
satiny gold paper. Above this portrait is hung the “Mexican Republic,” a design in
green, red and brown.
“Sarah Bernhardt” is black, blue and coral pink, while Irene Vernon Castle’s
psychological analysis is a blue and pink butterfly, with long, thin attenae and legs.
“Geraldine Farrar” also is a butterfly, though more rich in color. It is rather
disappointing to find “Enrico Caruso” in a conventional design of quiet blues and
grays. “Tortola de Valencia,” Spanish dancer, had much color, showing two full
moons on the crest of a wave.
“William Randolph Hearst” is shown in his true colors, black and red in the centre,
Puritan gray outside.
Other Kalogramas represent Maurice de Maeterlinck, Lina Cavalieri, Muratore, Alla
Nazimova, Rejane and Eugene Ysaye. Mr. Palomar displays much ingenuity in his
clever combinations of varied colors and textures of paper.
The exhibit will be on display for the rest of the month.
Another article on the show appeared in the New York Herald, April 28, 1918:
Psychology Discovered in Kalogram Portraits
Letters of Name Arranged and Colored So as to Express Temperament and Aspiration
of Numerous Sitters.
Kalograma by Torres Palomar are on exhibition at No. 520 Fifth avenue. What is a
kalogram? “The psychological portrait of an individual expressed in color with the
letters of his name,” answers Mr. Palomar.
For example, in Enrico Caruso’s kilogram the letters arrange themselves in a circle,
expressing a human being absorbed in or encircled by a dominating gift. Artistic
sincerity is represented by the color blue—“true blue”—which shades off from dark
indigo to a light blue finale, representing the high note, high C, in “Di quella pira,”
for example. Other letters are of bronze, merging into silver and then into gold
(which last may represent Mr. Caruso’s income tax).
The range of the kalograms is great. Mme. Nazimova’s complex personality is
expressed by a subtle intertwining of the lines of her letters, “against a smouldering
background.” In Miss Helen Keller’s kalogram light struggles against darkness.
Portraits in kalograms may show different orders of motion. In the kalogram of
Miss Tortola de Valencia, a Spanish dancer, her art, which Mr. Palomar considers
to be expressed equally in the rapid Spanish dances as well as in the melancholy
rites of the Moors, is shown by the use in the color scheme of the red and yellow
of Spain and gray black, purple and violet with vaporous white. The crosses of the
t’s, like spreading arms, reach out for the o’s, which are circles representing
tambourines. In Mme. Irina Karsavnia’s kalogram the lines of the letters obviously
symbolize dance steps. Quite different in its representation of movement is the
kalogram of Miss Halle Kosoloff, a skater.
Mme. Sonia Sikowska’s kalogram is in the shape of a whirling, slanting disk.
Within it is the Mohada Buddhistica, the mystic, Asiatic symbol of life. One would
have preferred something less obvious than a butterfly arrangement of letters,
suggesting “Madame Butterfly” for Miss Farrar.
Gold is the color in the c of the kalogramistic portrait of Miss Anna Case. It is
explained that this is not intended to represent money, but the expression “golden
throated.” In the curves of the blue m’s in Maurice Maeterlinck’s portrait one
catches a glimpse of the wings of the blue bird.
There is more variety that can be imagined in portraits produced by the art of
kalograms. Mr. Palomar tells me has made thirty-five thousand kalograms.
Stationery shops were quick to capitalize on the popularity of the kalogram. The American Stationer and Office Outfitter, May 26, 1917, printed the article, “The Golden Wedding Ring Displays,” that mentioned kalograms three times on pages 32 and 34. The Jewelers’ Circular-Weekly, May 29, 1918, noted the availability of a kalogram booklet for stationery shops: “‘Kalograms’ is the title of an attractively printed little booklet, measuring 7 1/2 x 3 1/2 inches. These are featured by the concern's stationery department. The booklet illustrates uniquely designed ‘Kalograms’ used by celebrities such as Marie Doro, Ruth Chatterton, Maud Adams, President Wilson and other. The ‘kalogram’ has become quite the vogue in society. All the die work and printing is done under the concern’s special supervision, nothing being sent out to a print shop.”
In 1920, advertisements for the kalogram by Mark Cross appeared in the New York Tribune and The Sun and the New York Herald.
The International Center for the Arts of the Americas at the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, has two issues of the periodical, El Universal Ilustrado (Mexico City), that mentioned Palomar and his kalogramas. “Tres Artistas Mexicanos en Nueva York: Marius de Zayas, Pal-Omar, Juan Olaguíbel”, by José Juan Tablada, appeared in the January 1919 issue (see Synopsis). “El arte de los calogramas: Torres Zubieta”, by Rafael Heliodoro Valle, was published February 1923 (see Annotations).
The Arts and Crafts Collector has color samples of Palomar’s kalograms published in Applied Arts, Volume 1, 1919.
Julie Brown produced a number of “kalogram” portraits which were published in three consecutive issues of the Green Book Magazine in 1919.
July 1919
August 1919
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