DAVID SINGER
was born in 1941 in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania. Although mainly a self-taught artist, he did study for one year at Penn State University, after which he enlisted in the Navy as a radio operator. During his Navy junkets between California and the Far East, he began to devote his free time to studying art.

When he started montaging in 1965, it was in the climate of San Francisco's Haight-Ashbury period. Music flourished at the Fillmore West, and Singer made his reputation designing photomontage posters for its owner, Bill Graham. When the ballroom closed in 1971, Singer's poster work continued in a studio shared jointly with Sätty and another montage artist, Nick Nickolds. Over the past decade his interest has shifted to sacred geometry and its mythic associations with eastern and western symbolism. This has culminated in a series of mandala prints and goddess images.

Mythic force and symmetry have exerted a continuous influence on Singer's work. His montages are not merely surreal; they have a strong visionary quality which avoids sheer caprice or fancy. The strength of imagery and profusion of intense color in his work are subject to an austere sense of composition, with the result that seemingly disconnected elements unify into an imaginative whole. If they appear to be dream visions they are more archetypal than personal, and that too removes them from surrealism.

Even the early work is akin to the mandala. Singer's compositional strength lies in his focal point of simplicity. His posters are often constructed on a powerful composite central image floating against a mysterious landscape: a fractured stone mask on a field of red pills; a silhouette crucifixion set on an auto junkheap. Capturing the mood of their time, his concert posters reinvest the familiar American landscape with the barrenness of a forbidding, alien world.

Yet, in all Singer's work there is a strongly implied spiritual dimension that relieves the desolation. Sometimes it is expressed by planetary space, otherwise by Christian or Oriental references. In one montage, entitled "Harvest," the Madonna and Child preside over scenes of lush plentitude and fertility. With the density of Dutch still-life and the intensity of a Samuel Palmer, the piece opens into idyllic scenes of Western farmers and dancing graces that retreat through arbors into distant space. Singer's perfect meld of color detail and complex formal balance tricks our belief in the unity of this paradise.

The conviction of unity in Singer's work comes from his skill. He works simply from color photography, composing a layout on the floor before fixing the image in place with spray adhesive. His tools are a pair of barber's shears for cutting large surfaces and small German scissors for fine detail. The fineness of his manipulation is convgeyed by the final impression.

From the book —
Posters American Style
By Therese Thau Heyman, 1998
A book/catalog, published by the National Museum of American Art, Smithsonian Institution,
in association with Harry N. Abrams, Inc., New York

DAVID SINGER (born 1941)
David Singer grew up in Pennsylvania Dutch country, where he was exposed to antiques and folk art. Another influence on his work, perhaps related to the hex signs of folk art, was his childhood interest in geometric forms.

Although Singer had little formal art training, his polished presentation and prodigious output made him one of the most respected poster artists emerging in the late 1960s in San Francisco.

Not initially interested in making posters, Singer assembled a portfolio of collages that he envisioned as “greeting cards or something.” His work was rejected by most of the publishers in San Francisco before gaining immediate acceptance from Bill Graham, a dance-concert promoter for the Fillmore Auditorium. During the Fillmore era, from 1969 to 1971, Singer created more posters for Graham than any other artist, most notably the double-size final poster evoking the Fillmore experience.

Even after the Fillmore closed in 1971, Singer continued to create posters commemorating special events sponsored by Graham. To a great extent, Singer was a transitional rock-poster artist; his works possessed a refinement, even a polish that would dominate the 1970s rock world. During that decade he produced significant posters for the Rolling Stones, the Who, and Santana. Singer’s posters are notable for his use of collage, incorporating thousands of images clipped from magazines spanning several decades. He developed a format that included a stunning variety of lettering styles, applying them in close relation to the theme or subject of a poster.

From the book —
The Art of the Fillmore: The Poster Series 1966–1971
By Gayle Lemke, 1997
Published by Acid Test Productions, Petaluma, California.

DAVID SINGER
The last of the original series artists, David Singer produced 66 posters — more than any other Fillmore artist — between 1969 and 1971.

As a child Singer was naturally attuned to mysticism. Growing up in Quakertown, Pennsylvania, he recalls the day a teacher dropped a drafting compass in his palm and showed him how to split a circle into parts to create a six-pointed star. Explains Singer: "This was known as the hex sign and I was mesmerized by it. I had seen the hex used mostly in Pennsylvania Dutch folk art decoration. It's considered potent protection against evil and symbolized the cosmic order of things."

By age twelve, Singer's search for artistic expression surfaced in his fascination with magazines ... from which he would tear pages at random. Gradually Singer built a vast collection of scrapbook images."I would spend hours just flipping through magazines tearing stuff out. Not anything specific, just whatever appealed to me in that instant." These were the humble beginnings of a now accomplished collage artist.

In 1964 Singer, at age 24, left the Navy, having spent the last two years stationed at Treasure Island in the San Francisco Bay. He settled in San Francisco and, though untrained, entered the city's commercial graphic art work force. For nearly two years he supported himself doing odd jobs and serving as a laison between various graphic designers."Then," reflects Singer, "I got into the amazing energy of the time."

Little by little, in the mid-sixties he began putting together his own collages.By the time he reached Bill Graham's office in the summer of '68, he had an art case full of exquisitely produced pieces. "A lot of people in the poster world, including Victor Moscoso, told me I should go and see Bill. I had gone to a lot of Fillmore shows, and I had seen Griffin's, Mouse's, and Moscoso's art and thought it was great. But I really didn't see myself doing rock poster art. My collages were kind of intellectual. I saw them as visual poems."

Singer recalls his first meeting with bill Graham: "Once I got into his office I set up several collages along one wall and on top of a couch. He told his secretary, Marushka, to hold his calls for half an hour. Then for about 20 minutes, I just sat there in total silence while he stood and studied my collages, one by one. Finally he looked at me and said, 'You do lettering.' And I said, 'Sure.' The next thing I knew I was walking out of the Fillmore hired to do twelve posters. I was a little intimidated because of course I had never done professional lettering."

Singer's initial twelve pieces, starting with BG-178, borrowed a classic Art Deco-style calligraphy which he adapted slightly by doubling the lines. Because it was legible, Graham liked in instantly. "By then the shock value and appeal of the posters being illegible had worn off. Bill was tired of it and he was looking for something new." As it evolved, Singer's lettering became more distinctive, reflecting signature adaptations of Art Deco and Art Nouveau styles. "I always thought that if you're into your art it becomes a vehicle of discovery. Lettering began to fascinate me because I realized I could take this alphabet, these 26 symbols, and extend them in limitless ways."

In rendering his collages, Singer reveals he was always drawn to fragments of imagery that evoked a deep sense of mystery. "I was influenced primarily by the collage artists of Surrealism, and by Max Ernst and Magritte's collage paintings. But my real passion — then and now — involves sacred geometry and symbolism." This passion is apparent beggining with his first posters. In BG-179, a fiery sky silouhettes a crucifixtion. Heaped beneath is a pile of junked cars and debris. "To me, this collage was shocking, yet so meaningful that I couldn't resist putting it together."

Poster BG-180, Two Lips, is word play — a visual pun. For its raw femininity coupled with spiritual symbolism, Singer counts it among his favorites. "In Pennsylvania, the tulip is a sacred flower. When you open it up and make it convex it becomes a six-pointed star. The Germans call it 'Blummesterne,' or Flowerstar." BG-216, The Mushroom Man, displays psychedelic overtones within its several dimensions: "The little man with no skin is running towards the gateway to the cosmos. The collage does have a certain LSD mystique," acknowledges Singer. "It's one of the most psychedelic posters I did." BG-279 and 280 demonstrate a departure from collage and introduce the artist's successful experimentation with freehand drawing, the vision for which, Singer says, came out in a dream.

BG-287 is the last piece Singer produced in the summer of 1971, marking the official closing of the Fillmore. At the time, Singer says, he was just hitting his stride. "I went into a sort of tailspin when the Fillmore closed. For several years, I had been meeting deadlines and having lots of work published. Suddenly it ended. It took me awhile to realize that it was really over."