Making It Big In The Numbers Racket!
An Interview with "Paint-By-Numbers" Guru Dan Robbins
OUTRÉ Magazine...The World of Ultra Media, Issue #17
Article and interview by JOHN ROSSI
NOT LONG SO AGO, PEOPLE WERE WISE ENOUGH TO realize that leisure time should be devoted to activities more relaxing and gratifying than just watching different actors repeat the same three plots over and over again on TV. Families chose to do things together: miniature golf, drive-in movies, roller skating, bowling, and - equally significant - crafts and hobbies. Hobbies not only provided a therapeutic outlet for stress. they also gave us a sense of accomplishment and self-fulfillment. The icing on the cake was the opportunity to show others proudly what we were capable of creating. Local hobby shops and five-&-ten cent stores - which had enough diversity to interest just about anyone - thrived in large numbers. Unfortunately. with the passage of time, they seem to be disappearing as steadily as drive-in movies and roller skating rinks. Whether you were into model trains, planes, cars, needlepoint, sculpture, or painting, the hobby shop had a kit waiting on the shelf to give you hours of enjoyment, and a guaranteed afterglow of achievement.
One of the most ingenious and popular kits on the market in the 1950s was the Craft Master Paint-By-Numbers set. which boasted: 'A BEAUTIFUL PAINTING THE FIRST TIME YOU TRY!" The magical part of it was that Craft Master faithfully managed to deliver on this bold promise. By following the simple instructions included, you could turn out a stunning canvas, even it the only brush you had held in your hand, up until then, had toothpaste on it.
It wasn't because the paintings were so simple that no skill was involved (actually, they were quite detailed and took considerable skill to accomplish), but because they already had "success" cleverly engineered into them. It you had even a diminutive amount of patience, and could count as high as "22" (there were 22 different, numbered colors in each set, you could astonish yourself and your friends with the results.
Whatever Happened To Paint-ByNumbers? (Possum Hill Press) is the humorous, personal account of what it took to make anyone an artist" - by enabling them to discover the romance, passion, and magic that occurs when oil paint flows onto a canvas. Written by Dan Robbins, who masterminded the phenomenon that mesmerized millions and quickly became a national mania in the 1950s, this quintessential book about Paint-By-Numbers takes its readers from the conceptual stage, through the challenges of creating, manufacturing, and marketing a successful product, all while remaining lighthearted, informative, and entertaining.
Although Dan Robbins is the self-professed guru - the parenthetical "inventor" of Paint-By-Numbers he may cringe if you refer to him as such. He prefers to credit the invention to Leonardo da Vinci - a supposition which he will explain soon enough. (But in reality, didn't da Vinci invent everything in the first place? Helicopters? Submarines? Microwave popcorn?)
During Craft Master's reign as king of Paint-By-Numbers, Dan Robbins acted as art director, copywriter, package designer, advertising agency, and model for trade ads and publications. If there was a corporate hat he didn't wear, it was probably because he had yet to create it. Whatever Happened To Paint-By-Numbers? is the perfect showcase for the many talents of this extraordinary individual. Not only is Dan the author, he's also responsible for the cover design, illustrations, and page layouts.
Craft Master's Paint-By-Numbers best publicity was a satisfied customer exhibiting their work to others - but like any growing company, they did have a Public Relations department - if you could call one writer, a secretary, and a part-time photographer a department. The one writer was the young and enthusiastic Ben Singer. Working together with Ben on many projects, Dan metaphorically refers to him as "the Sorcerers Apprentice." Hanging on the wall in Ben's office was a framed quotation by Victor Hugo: "Nothing in this world is as powerful as an idea whose time has come." This certainly proved true for Dan Robbins and Craft Master. Once the idea took off, it was a rocket - and sometimes, a rocket out of control!
It's interesting to note that as the demand for the Paint-By-Numbers kits grew, so did sales for oil paints, brushes, and art supplies across the country. It might be difficult to calculate how many "legitimate" artists were introduced to their own latent talents through Craft Master Paint-By-Number kits, but, undoubtedly, it would be substantial.
Having enjoyed What Ever Happened to Paint-By-Numbers tremendously, I was anxious to meet Dan Robbins and discuss his book with him in person. The following interview took place in what Dan humbly refers to as "the basement." despite the fact that it contains the accouterments of an efficient tidy office and artist's studio.
OUTRÉ: in the book, you state that if some one introduces you as the inventor of Paint-By-Numbers, you cringe that youprefer to be known as the Paint-By-Numbers "guru," instead. After reading the book, it seems quite clear that, had you not presented your idea to Max Klein, Paint-By-Numbers might never have made it to the marketplace.
ROBBINS: Well, that's true. Max did not have an artistic sense, in terms ot knowing what kind of subjects to look for. He was primarily interested in expanding his business - which was coloring books for children, and so forth - into more of a line the entire family could enjoy. The concept was that adults were just grown-up children who still liked to color.
But, "coloring is for kids," so what could we do for grown-ups that would appeal to them? The long and short of it was that it eventually came down to oil paint. The reason it developed into a numbers system was because adults color in a different way. If you tell a child to color an apple, they'll color it red. If you want an adult to paint an apple, you have to give them the shades, the light, the dark - there may be four or five different shades of red to give that apple form, highlights, and definition. You can't identify those colors by words - light red, dark red, medium-dark red, etc. So you give them numbers.
A more direct answer to your question is: I say that I'm not the guy who invented "paint-by-numbers - Leonardo da Vinci was. It's my recollection that when he worked with apprentices and students, he would give them numbered assignments and certain basic colors to lay down, sort of under-painting, or priming a particular subject. Later, he would go back and finish the subject and the details. So, the concept was to follow that theory of numbered patterns, give people the paint they need, and let them finish it themselves. Numbers were just a logical way to identify the necessary colors. I say, in my most gracious and humbling way, I didn't invent "paint-bynumbers," leonardo did! It's a nice way of getting off the hook and giving credit where credit is due.
OUTRÉ: Craft Master and Paint-By-Numbers didn't exactly hit the ground running. During those first two lean years, did you ever stop and wonder, "What the hell was I thinking?"
ROBBINS: Max and myself both thought we had a good idea. Max had been in business as owner of Palmer Paints for two or three years prior to the time we got started. He was making poster colors, and had worked with jobbers and distributors with his figurine sets. He was pretty close to the buyers at Kresge - I say Kresge, not K-Mart because he played golf with them. So, when we came up with the idea for Paint-By-Numbers, Max naturally gravitated toward the buyers and distributors who had been buying his regular line. He said, "Look guys, we need a little help - see what you can do." Mostly, what happened was that the jobbers and distributors - and they still do it today - could not, would not, or did not want to take the time to explain a new idea. If you had a jobber call the retailer, he would explain our "brand new idea" with an apathetic, "Well, you've got the colors, you've got the numbers, blah, blah, blah..." At that time, it seemed too complicated. The dealers didn't understand it, were afraid of it, and we couldn't get it off the ground.
But, what really hurt us was when we finally got a test order, from Kresge, for five or six stores. Max personally took the 250 sets over there. In our haste, we mixed-up the colors in the palettes. The bullfighter kit had the flower colors, the flower kit had the bullfighter palette. They started to get complaints, had to take all the sets back, and refund the customers money. They called up Max and told him to forget it. And that got around. That was in late 1949 or early 1950. We did sell some sets, but not until we went to the New York Toy Show did it really begin to take off.
In November of 1950, Max convinced the toy buyer at Macy's to let us demonstrate our product in their department store during the Toy Show. We brought along a gross of assorted sets, and Macy's provided us a little space to display finished paintings, along with a card table and chair. Palmer Paints agreed to pay for an ad in the New York Times, letting people know that Craft Master sets were available at Macy's. We also agreed that Macy's would only pay for the sets sold, and we guaranteed to take back any they didn't sell. Macy's had nothing to lose by giving us a shot.
We knew that, after placing the ad, setting up a demonstration and display, we would surely sell some sets, but we left nothing to chance. We decided to guarantee ourselves that, one way or another. Macy's would be sold-out by the end of the Toy Show. Max gave each of our two New York reps $250, and instructed them to give it out to friends, relatives, neighbors, anyone who would be willing to come into Macy's and purchase one of our Craft Master sets. It doesn't exactly sound kosher, but we knew Paint-By-Numbers was a winner, and wanted to do whatever it took to convince Macy's and everybody else that it was. We knew that once customers got an opportunity to see the product, our enthusiasm for it would rub off. Our demonstrations attracted large crowds, the sets moved very quickly, and many people that mentioned the ad had piqued their curiosity for Paint-By-Numbers. My guess is that the combination of advertising, demonstration, and point-of-purchase display did the trick. Macy's was carrying our line, and they were doing very well with it. Department stores, like Macy's, carried a lot of weight back then. If it was good enough for Macy's, it was good enough for the rest of the retail world!
OUTRÉ: In the book, you describe how some of the engineering problems were solved - particularly, the dilemma of filling thousands of tiny gelatin capsules with oil paint. Did you bounce ideas around the conference table, or did someone come up with the answer right away?
ROBBINS: Before he bought the paint company, Max had been an engineer at General Motors. He was a very smart guy, a good marketer, and he knew people. First, we came up with the idea of putting the paint in the capsules, then we tried every way to fill them. The capsules came 50,000 to the container. We had ladies who would come in over the weekend, and begin by pulling the tops off so they could be filled. We couldn't buy the capsules already separated, despite the fact that, ultimately, we became one of Eli Lilly's largest customers. In fact, we bought so many boxes of their .000 gelatin capsules that they became suspicious as to how we were using them. The FDA came knocking on our door, and we had to assure them that we were filling them with paint, and not drugs! Anyway, the ladies would separate the capsules, putting the tops in one container, the bottoms in another. After the capsule was filled, we would put the tops back on, moistening the mating part of the tops slightly, so that they would fuse together and form a seal. Some of the capsules I have are 30 years old, and, surprisingly, the paint has remained liquid, if you squeeze them.
We found that the gelatin capsules were a good choice because they are only soluble in water, and are unaffected by turpentine or oil paints. We tried everything to fill the capsules and, at one time, we thought we had it solved. We took a big table and drilled some holes in it, and put the capsules in there. Then we took a big squeegee, similar to those used in silkscreening, and tried to funnel the paint into the capsules. We thought, "Here we go!"
Wrong! The paint trapped air in the capsules, and they wouldn't fill with paint. From a technical point of view, there was only one way to fill them - what Max referred to as a direct fill. Something had to put the paint in the capsules one at a time.
One Friday, as we were getting ready to go home for the weekend, he said to me, "Dan, I promise you one thing. When you come back on Monday, I'll have this damn thing figured out." He was really good with his hands. He went some place and bought a sanding machine with a disc on it, a motor with pulleys and wheels, got a grease-gun, and had someone make a special nozzle for it. One capsule at a time! Think about it for a second - every time that lever went down, it would squirt out just enough paint to fill one capsule. We had "sticks" about 30 inches long, drilled with holes, and put the capsules into the holes. The girls would just manually guide the sticks under the nozzle, one by one. Some of them would miss, and some of them didn't miss, some of them filled, some of them didn't fill....
OUTRÉ: And then there was down time for cleaning, when you switched colors....
ROBBINS: Oh! You don't even want to know! We called the machine Max Klein's Rube Goldberg. It wasn't really a Rube Goldberg, but that was our benevolent name for it.
OUTRÉ: Before you met Max, Palmer Paints was lucky if it broke $300,000 a year. Then you came along....
ROBBINS: Initially, Max sold poster colors to schools by bid. A school district might need 500 quarts of red or 200 gallons of blue, so a lot of that business was school or contract business. When he first got into the business, he had no intention of expanding into kits. He had one guy in Minnesota who kept ordering large quantities of small bottles: 5,000 one-ounce bottles of blue, 5,000 one-ounce bottles of red, and Max began to wonder, "What the hell is this guy doing with all that paint?" So he surreptitiously went up to Minneapolis, and found out that this guy was putting all the paint into figurine sets. He had little animals, and so forth, and he would put in jars of red, yellow, blue - he was making kits. When you're selling bulk paint like that, your margins are rather small - you're not doing diddley-squat, you're not making a hell of a lot. Max said, "I'll be a son-of-a-gun, this guy is taking 35 cents worth of paint and selling it for four bucks. I like that idea!"
Max had some connection with Al Capp - he knew somebody who knew somebody. Max became one of the first people to look into the business of product licensing. He made some sort of deal, and began manufacturing figurine kits with Li'l Abner characters. Essentially, he was one-upping the guy who didn't have the licensing for recognizable characters. Li'l Abner was big then. Max showed it to his friend at Kresge, and once Kresge took it, lots of other jobbers did, too. This is how Max was bitten by the kit business. The success of the figurines made him look toward coloring and painting, and he was looking for someone who could do that. That's when he called me, and we did some washable paint sets and various different things. I would say that, of the $300,000 he was able to make, half of it was the figurine sets. Some of it was ice paint.
What the hell is ice paint? It's just poster colors that freeze on the ice when applied. At a local ice stadium, they decorated the ice with it. We sat way up in the top rows, next to the lighting director, and the ice was decorated and beautiful. He sold a lot of ice paint to the Red Wings, hockey people, and ice shows. That was the basis for the business we started with 10 to 12 employees and lots of paint.
OUTRÉ: Yet, you managed to turn it around into a business that generated 12 to 14 million dollars a year, with 800 employees churning out 50,000 sets a day, all from a simple idea of yours. You made Max a very wealthy man. In retrospect, would you have structured it differently, so that you could have put some of that money in your own pocket?
ROBBINS: Here's the answer to that... Max was generous, but cheap. After the thing took off and we began to do very well, I went to Max and said, "I know I'm just an employee, but since we're doing so well now, I think I should have a royalty on this thing." Remember, I'm just an employee. I don't own a thing.
Max agreed. He said, "You're right, Dan. We're doing good, and I appreciate everything that you've done - you should get a royalty." So I began to get a five percent royalty on the net sales, not the retail. The sets were selling for about $2.50. You sell it to a distributor for about half of that, and you take off overhead - so you make whatever. After the demand increased, and we had to hire more artists, I was still getting royalties, so it was okay.
This isn't in the book, but I'd like to share this story. The first house I bought in Detroit was $16,500. It was six rooms, full basement, all brick! I needed a $5,000 deposit, and the rest would be mortgaged. At first, royalties were only an extra $300 a month, then it was $1,000 a month, which wasn't too bad. Max had to go to England because we were going to do an overseas deal and, while he was gone, our bookkeeper, Mrs. C., gave me my royalty check. I looked at the check, and it was about $3,000! I was used to getting about $300 or $400. I told her, "This isn't right - there must be a mistake." She went back and checked it and rechecked it, and she told me it was correct. I went to my wife, and we bought the house on the spot. When Max came back from England he asked how things were going, and I said we must be doing great, my royalties were $3,000. "Three thousand! Impossible!" He checked again. Bottom line was that Mrs. C. had given me a royalty on total sales - not just Paint-By-Numbers. So Max said, "That's okay, Dan, you don't have to pay it back, but why don't we put you on an increased salary guarantee of $800 a month, and dispense with royalties?" I thought about it for a while and, since we were starting to get lots of competition, I told him I'd take it.
Later on, Max gave myself and certain other employees stock in the company, and told us we'd all be rich in about five years. But the boom only lasted about three years - from 1956 through 1959. That was during the time when the business went up, up, then abruptly fell, completely. Max called a meeting and explained that we were in big trouble, that it was time to bail out. He needed everyone to turn their stock back in because it wasn't worth anything anyway, so we all turned our stock back in, and he was eventually able to sell out for what he could get. To this day, everybody thinks I must be rich. I usually tell them that if I were, I probably wouldn't be here and there doing my little talks. So, a long answer to your question is: I was an employee, all the product belonged to Max, and I didn't have any copyrights.
OUTRÉ: Or the condensed explanation you use in the book....
ROBBINS: Would have, could have, should have! (laughs) I was just in my mid-20s at the time - I didn't know from a lot of stuff. I still don't know from a lot of stuff, but I'm a little smarter than I used to be.
OUTRÉ: "Paint Your Own Portrait" seemed not only like a great idea, but a natural transition for Craft Master and Paint-By-Numbers. It was tried and didn't do too well. Why?
ROBBINS: First of all, there is a company that's doing that right now. Before I included them in the book, I sent them a picture of my grandson, got their set, and my wife and I painted it. It came out gorgeous, and we gave it to our grandson for his Bar Mitzvah. I still have the paint palette. Now, when I talk to various groups, we talk about the future of Paint-By-Numbers. I'm the old dinosaur because, today, they have personalized portraits by the numbers, but it's all computer generated.
The first time we attempted this, we started with "Paint-A-Star." One of our reps knew the agent who represented Dinah Shore, Liberace, Bob Hope, Roy Rogers and Dale Evans. My assignment was to do Liberace. I must have painted Liberace 20 times, and every time I sent it to him for his approval, he always found problems with his hair. It was too long, it was too dark, it was too gray.
Anyway, Max came to me one day and said, "Dan, you tell me - can we do this or not?" I had always been a big fan of Walt Disney Productions and the way they did animation on an assembly line. I told him I thought we could. We simply ended up with a production line, and a master palette. We had people who could do just the face, or the flesh tones, or the backgrounds. We also came up with a pretty clever way to present the idea to the buyers.
First, we secretly acquired photos of all the buyers from the various department stores. We converted the photos into numbered canvases, included paint, brushes, complete instructions - all packaged into prototype packaging - just as the product would appear in the retail stores. We not only presented each of the seven or eight major buyers with their very own Paint-By-Numbers kit, but each of them also received a finished portrait, beautifully framed, with their name inscribed on a gold metal plate. That's a presentation! Ultimately, the personalized portrait failure could be blamed on the simple fact that we couldn't turn a profit on the suggested retail price of $19.95. We had underestimated the cost of hand labor in converting the original photos to a numbered outline. We probably sold two or three thousand at $19.95 - and we lost our ass! We couldn't make any money on it, in spite of the fact that Life magazine picked it up, The Wall Street Joumal, we had all kinds of publicity. It was a good idea, but it bombed.
Many years later, Max sold the business to the people in Toledo, then General Mills bought it. and they said to me, "Dan, the age of computers is here. What you couldn't do then, we can now do with computers. Your assignment, should you choose to accept it, is to head this group." The group was ITEK Corporation, a group that was doing work for the space shuttle and had all the technology in the world. Their language was so technical, I couldn't understand it. But the final product was a series of tiny squares with printed numbers corresponding to a particular color, instead of a picture that resembles what the final picture might look like. Suffice it to say that, even though the finished painting looked great, it was much more difficult and complicated to paint than the Paint-By-Numbers everybody had been used to.
OUTRÉ: When Paint-By-Numbers grew enough so that you had to hire other artists, you found yourself having to deal with the "artistic temperament." There were a number of veny funny stories, and one kind of alarming....
ROBBINS: There was one very talented woman who brought in a portfolio filled with beautifully drawn, anatomically correct renditions of studio nude figures. Some were posed in frontal nudity, reminiscent of Michelangelo's statue of David, and some were soft, delicate poses of reclining women, as might be found in a painting by Reubens. Her work was quite impressive and, with constant requests for ballet dancers, religious figures, and circus performers, I was ready to hire her on the spot, to become one of our "human figure" specialists. Wrong!
This woman balked at the idea of covering the human form in any way. She believed the human body to be the most beautiful of all art forms, and, therefore, it was meant to be painted in its pure, fully natural beauty. She refused to cover the human form, even with tights such as those ballet dancers or trapeze artists wear. We didn't really feel that our customers were ready for that kind of "purity" they just wanted to paint!
Then there was the most memorable of all - l'll call her L.M. L.M. was actually a very talented artist, but extremely difficult to get along with. She was disagreeable, angry, arrogant, ill-tempered. Ultimately, Max told me it was my responsibility to let her go. I felt sorry for her, but I had to agree that she had not worked out. Admittedly, I'm not very good at this type of confrontational situation. I went in to talk with her, and gently, but firmly, informed her that she was being let go. She simply refused to leave.
She showed up day after day, as if nothing had happened. Once again, I informed her she would have to leave. She tried everything in the book to get me to change my mind. She begged, she pleaded, she offered to sleep with me. Then her cajoling turned to anger, and she threatened to kill me. Since she was twice my size, and strong, I believed she could have choked me to death right there! We finally got rid of her by phoning the police to have her physically removed from the office. We informed the switchboard what had transpired, and told them to get word to us if she should show up again. The next day, sure enough, she came back, stalked past the switchboard, and this time she had a gun! I believe she intended to make good on her threat to kill me. We got a quick call from the switchboard that she was on her way.
Whoosh! You never saw so many people hightail it down the back stairs in your life! She must have arrived upstairs, confused at finding the place completely deserted. Shortly after that, she left, and we never saw her again.
OUTRÉ: Max Klein once gave you a critique of your personality that had a profound effect on you. Do you recall what he said?
ROBBINS: Once, during a quiet moment in the office, he turned to me and said something like: "Dan, I don't think I know anyone who doesn't like you. In fact, if you talk to other people, they will say that you're the nicest, most considerate, most agreeable, and understanding guy they know. I think there is something intrinsically wrong with a person everyone likes. Surely, there must be some people you meet that you don't like, and who don't like you. What this tells me about you is that you are willing to compromise your true feelings and beliefs to accommodate the views of others, whether you agree or not. You don't stand up for what you believe in, because if you did, they might not like you, and it's more important for you to be liked than to stand up for what you believe in." I never forgot that. And you know something? He was right. Now I stand up for what I believe in, but it's still very important for me to be liked.
OUTRÉ: The first Paint-By-Numbers sample subject you handed to Max was one of your own pieces, "Abstract #1." Max had another critique for you....
ROBBINS: He said, "I hate it! I hate the painting, but I do like the idea." I was stunned. He said that abstracts were for "people who call themselves artists, but can't paint worth a damn." He may have been right about it being too "arty" to introduce the concept to the general public.
OUTRÉ: Later on, though, "Abstract #1 " did become a kit and, while it might not have been the most popular subject, it still did rather well. In fact, there was an article in the San Francisco Examinerfrom 1952....
ROBBINS: A gentleman by the name of Herb Caen wrote an article about an art show in San Francisco where, unbeknownst to the judges, third prize went to a gentleman who submitted a completed Craft Master "Abstract #1 " canvas.
OUTRÉ: I'll bet that took some of the sting out of Max's criticism.
ROBBINS: Somewhat, but years later - sometime in April 1992 - the Bridgewater/Lustberg Gallery in Soho had an exhibition of a series of 200 Paint-ByNumbers abstracts. They were reminiscent of Andy Warhol or Fernando Botero, and were selling for a reported $500 per unit. I couldn't help but remember my presentation of my now famous "Abstract #1" to Max - and his less-than-kind response. Now'some 30 years later. there were "gourmet" Paint-By-Numbers abstracts being sold for the cost of 150 regular Craft Master sets. I did feel somewhat vindicated. It also made me wonder: "What do you think of that, Max?" (Laughs)
Since my wife, an accomplished watercolor artist, also was fascinated by Whatever Happened To Paint-By-Numbers, she had come with me to the interview. After our conversation concluded, we were treated to an impressive grand tour of Dan's works, past and present. Some of the sketches and paintings went all the way back to the mid-1940s, when Dan was still a young man in art school, dreaming of a day when he might find an opportunity to display his tremendous talent to the world. Dan Robbins still maintains a genuine enthusiasm and the boundless energy you sense in his writing when talking about Paint-By-Numbers. He speaks of the concept as if it was one of his children, because, in a sense, it is. Maybe that's why there is still a spring in his step, a child-like twinkle in his eye, and an ageless quality about him. You can't have spent all that time at toy shows and conventions without some of it rubbing off.
As we were about to leave, I took one last look at the original "Abstract #l" painting which Dan had hanging on the wall. And it occurred to me that Max Klein's critique was wrong. But not just about the abstract. There is nothing wrong with a person everyone likes.
Special thanks to Mark Bello, oF Right-On Futon in Chicago, for introducing Dan Robbins to Outre. Also, it's interesting to note that many of the Paint-By-Number canvasses you may have painted and stored away, are now collectibles, and could be worth considerable money - particularly the early ones executed on rolled canvas. In fact, The Smithsonian houses an impressive collection in the Archives of the National Museum of American History in Washington, D.C. (And you thought a person had to be dead before their art was salable!)