1 15 15 https://omeka.wilkes.edu/omeka/files/original/89485338525222d0c21eb087758a27fc.pdf 4a8a40b3ebded51c084ecfa9be0538df PDF Text Text ���������������������������������� https://omeka.wilkes.edu/omeka/files/original/05930834e2fa2713a812bf0a0b334afb.pdf 31d072e2d7fe7b75105beb928a0c3d54 PDF Text Text II i '2 .■5 e 1 i ■ ■ ■ I I Virgin Landscapes, Native Cultures: The Artist-Explorer in North America Sordoni Art Gallery Wilkes University SORD GA N8214.5 U6S83 1992 �I Virgin Landscapes, Native Cultures: The Artist-Explorer in North America An exhibition organized by the Sordoni Art Gallery, Wilkes University, in recognition of the Quincentenary of the voyage of Columbus I1 I I ■- Dr. William H. Sterling, Guest Curator October 11 through November 29, 1992 Support provided by Pennsylvania Council on the Arts Northeastern Bank Anonymous Friends E.S. FARLEY LioHALY ” WILKES UNIVERSITY WILKES-BARRE, PA �I LH 5 | 3 TABLE OF CONTENTS s ■ Lenders to the Exhibition Copyright 1992 by the Sordoni Art Gallery, Wilkes University’, Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania All rights reserved Acknowledgments iv v The Artist-Explorer in North America ISBN 0-942945-03-4 Introduction Wilkes University Christopher N. Breiseth, President J. Michael Lennon, Vice President for Academic Affairs 1 Discovering America (1492-1800) Into the Wilderness (1800-1850) 3 13 From Exploration to Tourism (1850-1875) Sordoni Art Gallery Judith H. O’Toole, Director Nancy L. Krueger, Assistant Director Kathy L. Scott, Secretary Mary Jo Moses, Gallery Intern Biographical Notes 51 Bibliographic Note 54 Checklist of the Exhibition Front cover: Exhibition No. 12 Inside cover: see p. vi 55 35 ■ �ACKNOWLEDGMENTS How can you buy or sell the sky, the warmth ofthe land? The idea is strange to us. If we do not own thefreshness of the air and the sparkle of the water, how can you buy them? lenders to the exhibition American Philosophical Society' Art Gallery of Windsor The Butler Institute of American Art Everhart Museum The Heckscher Museum Joslyn Art Museum Kennedy Galleries, Inc. Missouri Historical Society Museum of Nebraska Art National Museum of American Art, Smithsonian Institution The New York Historical Society The Rockwell Museum Sheldon Memorial Art Gallery', University of Nebraska - Lincoln Sordoni Art Gallery, Wilkes University Sordoni Family Collection The Thomas Gilcrease Museum W est Point Museum Yale (Jniversity Art Gallery 1 his yas the response of Chief Sealth of the Duamish Tribe to President Franklin Pierce’s inquiry of 1854 regarding the purchase of a large tract of Indian land. Obviously, the two men had vastly different concepts of man’s relationship to his environment. Virgin Landscapes, Native Cultures is about the encounter between two continents and the inhabit­ ants of each, although admittedly through Anglo-European eyes — the artists represented here were Westerners who recorded as faithfully as they could the “native cultures” and “virgin landscapes” they encountered in North America. Planning for this exhibition began several years ago, although the original concept has gone through several permutations since then, and our small staff has worked diligently to bring it into being. We are grateful to Dr. William H. Sterling, Associate Professor of Art at Wilkes University, who served as the exhibition’s curator, providing a selection of objects and an essay which are both enlightening and sensitive to the subject. His careful research is revealed in the following text which, refreshingly, manages to be both lively and scholarly. We are indebted to those listed on the title page who provided support and others including Andrew J. Sordoni, III; Vai and Gus Genetti; the Cultural Events Committee, Wilkes University under the chairmanship of Robert Heaman; and anonymous friends. The gallery staff, new to a project of this ambition, tackled their responsibilities with diligence, professionalism, and, when needed, good humor. Nancy L. Krueger handled all the correspondence with lenders and coordinated all the varied details that go into assembling an exhibition and catalog of this scope. Kathy L. Scott lent her expert typing skills to the transformation of the manuscript from pen to computer printout. I am grateful to both of them for taking the exhibition’s concept and making it a reality'. Annie Bohlin approached the design of this publication with her usual intellectual curiosity and created a perceptive and appropriate document to accompany and survive the exhibition. Dr. Rena Coen, Professor Emerita of St. Cloud University, and Kenneth Haltman of Yale University assisted in the location of works by some of the more obscure artists and suggested valuable source material. Beth Carrol-Horrocks of the American Philosophical Society made access to that collection available to Dr. Sterling. Mary L. W’atkins of the E. S. Farley Library at Wilkes University kept pace with the steady stream of requests for inter-library loans. Also deserving of our thanks are staff members at the lending institutions, in particular: Barbara Rothermel, Everhart Museum; Marsha Gallagher, Joslyn Art Museum; Clyde Singer, The Butler Institute of American Art; John McKirahan, Museum of Nebraska Art, University of Nebraska at Kearney; William H. Trcuttner, Abigail Terrones and Kimberly Cody, National Museum of American Art; Cathy N lastin. Art Gallery of Windsor; David N leschutt and Pat Dursi. West Point Museum; William Fl. Titus, The Heckscher Museum, and Lillian Brenwasser, Kennedy Galleries, Inc. Finally, as always, we thank the institutions and private lenders listed in this catalog whose generosity made this exhibition possible. Judith Hansen O'Toole Director it �THE ARTIST-EXPLORER IN NORTH AMERICA I4 INTRODUCTION i~ This exhibition surveys the era during which the pictorial exploration of North America evolved from the reportorial to the expressive. It was also an era which saw other momentous developments: the transcontinental settlement by Euroamericans and the attendant uprooting of the native cultures; the creation of a national1 sense of destiny and history; and the emergence of a cultivated indigenous art community. The artist was never the point man in any campaign of geographical exploration. He recorded mostly what others had already discovered. Nevertheless, the term "artist-explorer" is useful as an indication of the difference between those artists who worked at home, using only their imaginations or the reports of travelers, and those artists who followed the pathfinders into the field to bring back eye-witness images. Some of the artists and themes appearing in this exhibition, particularly those of the American West and the American Indians, have been featured in many other recent exhibitions. These themes naturally occur in the current project, because they overlap so broadly our primary­ subject of the artist-explorer in North America. If your favorite western painter is missing in this show, keep in mind that many portrayals of the West were by the stay-at-homes, and many more were the work of artists whose travels came after those of the vanguard. In this exhibition, we are focusing on artists who, driven by a quest for fame or fortune, inspiration or knowledge, undertook arduous, and often dangerous, journeys into uncharted terrain. i.<r, I I !.l t HI ] >90 In 1494, Albrect Diirer, the great German artist of the Renaissance, crossed the Alps to visit Italy. This trip had nothing of the magnitude and risk which marked Columbus’s first voyage across the Atlantic. Still, in those days, Diirer's journey was a challenging venture. His motives were not altogether different from Columbus’s. Both men believed that their trips could bring them fame and fortune, as well as enlightenment. The wonders and wealth of the East beckoned Columbus. The art of antiquity and the Renaissance lured Diirer. Both the navigator and the artist hoped to return with treasures. For Diirer, that meant a deeper understanding of classical style and the newer discoveries by Italian artists. Diirer thus helped to establish a tradition which remained the primary object of artists' physical explorations well into the nineteenth century. Any similarity between their travels and those made by explorers of sea and land were mostly metaphorical. Indeed, prior to the nineteenth century, artists were not particularly interested in new lands or exotie peoples. Representations of Blacks and Asians by European artists, for example, were few and far between. Art was intensely Eurocentric in both style and subject matter. I'he Christian religion, classical mythology, history anti portraiture dominated subject matter. Genre, landscape, and still-life, as independent categories, began to flourish only in the seventeenth century and remained firmly tie voted to familiar ami near-at-hand images for two hundred years. Eventually, these lower ranking categories in the hierarchy of artistic subject matter would become rhe backbone of both objective naturalism and subjective expressionism, exemplified in the nineteenth century by rhe Realist and Romantic movements. * <>m|>Jt> . "t I'lllhljl iphl I 1 �. nril, demand for that kind of art developed howev er, there was no reason for an artisc 1 f some faraway wilderness or abongmal community. Even as philosophers and C1> travel oft to .< i .indseventeenth centuries began to posit connections, both literal and historians in the six ancient ,in(J bibllCal history. fcw artists (or th <"•'"*» ,n >”"■ ' .T“"p'e h“ sh°',n e d t" S concern was the tradition of art itself. An American wdderness, or its inhabitant, was X powerful stimulus than an old master landscape or an antique statue. Art tended to perpetUtCSKond1nlPdeminvoh ing Diirer seems to confirm this interpretation. In 1520, he had occasion to visit the Emperor's art collection. Among the newest acquisitions was a hoard of Mexican Indian artifacts. Diirer writes in lus diary that he was overwhelmed by these •wwdrous... [and] wonderful works of art. Aet so far as we know he didn’t sketch them or describe them in anv detail. As marvelous as he found them to be, they must have been curiosities which did not fit into his artistic world Artists became explorers, in the geographical sense, only when art itself begai began to embrace the real world in all its diversity. Somewhere between the categories of art and curiosity, there began to flourish, in the Renaissance, a body of natural history illustration (i.e„ careful studies of flora, fauna, and geology) requiring the skills, if not the imagination, of an artist. Some very significant artists took part in this development, most notably Leonardo da Vincg whose field trip to the Alps made him a forerunner of the artist-explorer. The New World offered naturalists a wealth of new species to examine and record. At first, most of the natural history illustrators remained in Europe and worked from imported specimens. In the late sixteenth century, naturalists and colonizers of the new territories began to take along artists to make both naturalistic and idealized portrayals of sites ripe for settlement. Some of die earliest scenes of America were, in a sense, real estate promotions. Hovering over all these pragmatic programs of exploration and representation, however, were the more subjective concerns of moral philosophy: where did America belong in the greater scheme of things: what aesthetic value did its wilderness have; were its natives subhuman or civilized? Artists, like their patrons, would work such concerns into their interpretations, consciously and unconsciously, over the next three centuries. One must also remember that ocean and wilderness travel before the age of mechanized and comfortable transportation was full of hardship, not to mention risk to life and limb. As a class, professional artists tended to be as ill-disposed to arduous travel as they were to military service. Check the household list of “great” European artists, and you will find that, before the nineteenth century, virtually none of them ever left their home continent. Only with the rise ot Romanticism and the wanderlust it engendered did a significant number of artists begin, physically, to seek inspiration in faraway places or alien cultures. Romanticism made the artist into a hero of culture, whose personal odyssey could take place within the imagination or atop a real mountain. V\ ith this kind of encouragement, artistic exploration of both kinds came into its own in the nineteenth century. DISCOVERING AMERICA (1492-1800) No artist accompanied Columbus on his voyages to America, and no professional artists that we know of sailed to these shores much before the seventeenth century. The earliest visual representations of the New World by the Old were based either on descriptions brought back by explorers or on pure fantasy. Virtually all such representations were the work of obscure illustrators. America was not a subject of much interest to artists. The continent had come within Europe’s purview accidentally and was regarded mostly as a geographical impediment and a philosophical inconvenience. The earliest images of America, appearing in 1493 to preface tracts on Columbus’s maiden voyage, are wholly imaginary generic landscapes. In 1505, the Master of Viseu, an anonymous Portuguese painter, portrayed an American Indian in the role of one of the magi in an Adoration ofthe Magi altarpiece (Viseu Muscu, Portugal). The American replaced the more conventional black African here as a representative of remote peoples in the trio of magi. 1 lad the Master of Viseu been to the New World? No one knows, but his Indian seems to be based more upon descriptions than direct encounter. Only his deep bronze complexion and feathered headdress identify him as a native American (these features became standard symbols of the Indian in European art for the next three centuries). Even when Indians were brought to Europe, it is doubtful that many artists had an opportunity to see them in the flesh. Symbolic images were adequate for the kinds of scenes in which America usually appeared, such as the cosmological allegories so popular in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. An Indian, a parrot, ora palm tree inserted into a conventional European landscape was enough to signal the New World. Authenticity' in visual representation was far less critical in the sixteenth century than it was in the nineteenth. The European landscape, itself, was seldom portrayed with topographical accuracy in the Renaissance. In the 1540s, when the Dutch artist Jan Mostaert painted West Indian Scene (Frans Hals Museum, Haarlem), probably no one was upset that the whole thing was entirely imaginary. More extraordinary is the fact that Mostaert was perhaps the only noteworthy sixteenth century artist to portray an extensive American scene at all. The meager excitement generated in artists and their patrons by the New World, as a subject for art, was apparently widespread. Even when artists began to make the journey themselves, what they reported seems not to have inspired many others to follow. It was a rough and hostile environment. Painting as “travelogue” only became popular in the eighteenth century, when tourism began to flourish. By that time, well-traveled patrons were less inclined to accept surrogates for their favorite scenes. The earliest extensive visual reports of America done on site did not appear until Jacques Le Moyne visited Florida in 1564 and John White settled in Virginia in 1585. Both men were trained cartographers and skilled draftsmen, and both had been sent out on royal commissions to promote colonization. Le Moyne accompanied Rene de Laudonniere’s expedition, while White traveled with Sir Walter Raleigh to become the governor of the ill-fated Roanoke colony. The drawings and paintings produced by Le Moyne and White presented for the first time a straightforward and detailed picture of Indian life. Although conventional artistic devices such 3 �i -,,i nines crept in, these portrayals seem to be laigeh accurate. A few years later both these engravings; W hite’s original pictures are m rhe Bnnsh Museum . Comparable pictorial studies of the Spanish ami Portuguese colonies to the south had not vet been done, despite the fact that American exploration began in those latitudes. The reasons for this are not clear. Perhaps Spain's somewhat secret, ve posture concerning her goldbearin- territories discouraged publicity. I he English and the 1; rench, in contrast, were eager to stimulate colonization in rhe North. The book illustrated with White’s pictures described Vir-inia as a "pastoral paradise” (Thomas Hanot, BneJ and 1 rue report of the new found land of Xirfnia. 1590). If White’s images fall short of accuracy in any significant way, it would be that thev accentuate the positive. His purpose, after all, was to attract immigrants. The most accomplished artists in America before the late eighteenth century were a pair of Dutchmen. Frans Post and Albert Eckhout. They did go to the south, but not to the Iberiancontrolled territories, and their purpose was less promotional than scientific. Post and Eckhout had been hired, in 1638. by Count Johan Maurits of Nassau-Siegen, governor of the Dutch colony in Brazil, to record the natural history of the region. Post painted numerous landscapes in the spacious Baroque naturalism prevailing in the Dutch school at that time. Eckhout concentrated on the native peoples, producing a series of life-sized, full-length portraits of unprecedented authenticity, only faintly glamorized by their Van Dykian compositions. He captured, with equanimity, both their innocence and their cannibalistic habits. Count Maurits was rather ahead of his rime in bringing artists along on his expedition to record this material in its natural setting. (Eckhout’s paintings belong to the Royal Danish Museum, Copenhagen; one of Post’s Brazilian landscapes may be seen in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York) As settlement increased in America, artists found more traditional reasons to undertake the journey themselves. Established colonial towns created a demand for portraits, altarpieces and interior decorations. The artists who came to meet this demand were not explorers in any sense; they were cultural emissaries, bringing an element of Old World refinement to settled communities. The first professional European artist to emigrate to North America was probably the Swedish portraitist. Gustavus Hesselius, who settled in Delaware in 1711 and later established himself in Philadelphia. Hesselius, and others like him, set a standard for nativeborn colonial artists, but the colonies were still the boondocks as far as cultivated Europeans v ere concerned. None of the great names in art history boarded a transatlantic ship until several generations after Hesselius. The first was Jean-Antoine Houdon, who came over fora brief visit in - So to sculpt Washington, Jefferson, Franklin and several other luminaries. About a century ‘dter. anfjt er great Frenchman, Edgar Degas, traveled to New Orleans to visit his Americanborn mother s relatives. A few portraits and local genre scenes resulted from this trip. Maternal cjoncctions attracted Degas equally great countryman, Paul Gauguin, just a few years later. ’ J^n \mot er" asana tit e ofAmerica in the fullest sense, having descended from Incas. He / ■jLt'P!-r^nnect'on "Eh his exotic heritage, perhaps, but his stay, in Martinique, •r,.',/ .11 ‘ 1 jerate escape from the confinements of European culture took him to tour&Hr'S a COl?ny °f Tahiti’ which> by that time, was already on the South Seas for four Xs\n ay0“"SChl .d 'dnd l0ng b-ef0re he became an artisc’ Gauguin had lived in Peru nevershovt-d nn?n ^questionably influenced his artistic personality but almost roster of ore tv r-nri^l?mat“r’ The Only othcr famous European artist to join this short America(18301 ml-y- 1 ^'*ntuF VISEors was Camille Pissarro. Pissarro was actually born in to Paris, w here he r<-n^u ,jarenti’on the island of St. Thomas. In his early twenties, he migrated considered e.xnlorers 1 )C reSt b*s l°ng life. None of these illustrious men could be At the level off i"C ?K concerncd with here. insalubrious, and u nc< i rh * <|U buroPe s condescending attitude toward America as a raw, American landscane was u i^i W| Pcrs'sted into the nineteenth century. What is more, the ' L "dS Sald t0 be less interesting than Europe’ s own. That was due partly to 4 Hoftium oppich no&u incendendi ratio. XXXI Bry, Theodor de [America] Frankfurt, 1590 Part II, Plate 31 Illustrated by Jacques LeMoyne Enemy Town Burnt in a Night Raid Photo courtesy of Rare Books and Manuscripts Division, New York Public Library. Astor, Lennox and T'ilden Foundation the fact that it was a landscape “lacking history.’- notwithstanding the presence of a native civilization. Even the Europeans' fascination with the exotica of Indians and the “Wild West” amounted to a kind of vicarious thrill-seeking, amply fulfilled by novels, fanciful illustrations, and touring troupes (Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show was a sellout everywhere it went). Indian society was seen as prehistoric and inscrutable. From the earliest days of exploration, the Indians drew ambivalent responses from Europeans. Two stereotypes came to prevail: the primitive savage, without law or religion (Hobbes’s brute); and the noble innocent, uncorrupted by luxury (Rousseau’s “natural man”). One dwelt in a hostile wilderness; the other, in a gentle Arcadia. In art, Indians of either stereotype tended to be represented with the ideal postures and proportions of classical figures. This isn’t particularly surprising, since classical 5 �3 idealism was still the rule in figurative art between the fifteenth and early nineteenth centuries. Indeed, this classical treatment was strikingly substantiated by the fact that many In ians encountered by the Europeans were, indeed, impressive physical specimens with strong rows, aquiline noses, dignified bearing - and, like the great antique statues, often nude. Among the earliest paintings of lndians in this exhibition - the small watercolor sketches by George Heriotlcat. nos. 20. 21). dating between 1799 and 1804 - conform to this tradition. Heriot was a British official who traveled through eastern Canada in preparation for his c l'ne!’ as postrnaster-general of the colony. Although he was not a professional artist, he had stu le with the noted English draftsman and watercolorist Paul Sandby, and had obviously absor re the artistic fashions ot his day. In these two scenes, from a series on Indian ceremonies, erl0t v. .is faithful to native costume and choreography’ as well as to European composition an 1=,U/C types. 1 he classical poses and proportions of the Indians, arranged in a frieze across tie foreground stage, and the briskly sketched landscape, divided into closed and open sPace ’ comply with the compositional tradition of Poussin. That Heriot’s explorations took piac mostly in tamed countryside is suggested by the row of well-dressed colonists in the Ceremoni ■ adp bailee, obsen mg the reenactment of a presumably obsolete practice. . Respite the conventions in 1 leriot’s portrayals of Indian life, they conveyed a suggest o authenticity rarely seen since John White. Authenticity, as an artistic objective, was ■ man , t ic province of the natural history painters, and we may include 1 leriot in then ia 6 as a part-time ethnographer. A small number of other exploring artists in eighteenth ccnturv North America were full-time naturalists. The English animal painter, Mark Catcsby. traveled through the east and south in the early part of the century, and the native-born botanical artist William Bartram covered similar territory before the Revolution. They were followed in the early nineteenth century by the more famous John James Audubon, who crisscrossed the American frontier during the first four decades. For the most part, these artists, like their predecessors in the naturalist field, maintained a narrow focus, isolating individual species on blank or generically natural backgrounds. Their subjects were effectively detached from their greater environment and from human narrative. William Bartram is the earliest artist in this exhibition to have been born in America. Almost all of his works conform to the format just described. The Canna Indira (cat. no. 2, p. 8) exhibited here is one of the few in which Bartram provided a bit of scenery to give a sense of place to his featured specimen. Simple as it is, this economically drawn expanse of hillside suggests a particular kind of environment, and seems to confirm that the artist set foot there himself and was not merely observing a specimen delivered to his studio. In his travels, Bartram did gather plantings for his father’s extensive gardens near Philadelphia (the elder Bartram had been appointed botanist of North America by George 111), but his drawings circulated much farther and were admired by English and Continental naturalists. Long after his explorational tours ended, Bartram’s book of Travels (1791) added narrative interest to his scientific work, and was 7 �• 4 ‘v te, *■ - : ' /flvnxiu-t.rivL ~ s> :7!i i (jlwfj Jc'ttia./. .J �great cataracts, vastness of scale, extremes of light and dark, and the like. Late eighteenth century landscapists increasingly embraced this concept. In the last decade of the century, a young Irish writer named Isaac Weld traveled through the United States in order to evaluate the new country’s promise for emigration. It failed to live up to his expectations, but he conceded, in his Travels (1797), that Niagara was “justly ranked amongst the greatest national curiosities of the known world.” Weld went on to describe his journey through the Blue Ridge Mountains, noting that Thomas Jefferson had proclaimed that the area where the Potomac and Shenandoah Rivers cut through was one of the most "stupendous scenes in nature, and worth a voyage across the Atlantic.” While agreeing that it was a “wild and romantic” place and "deserving of attention." Weld was far from accepting that it was worth an ocean crossing. "To find numberless scenes more stupendous, it would be needless to go farther than Wales," he concluded. Most of his European contemporaries still shared this sentiment at the turn of the century. pictorial parameters of naturalist n< ’. partlcularly ln the ,ater works. T his expansion of the vanguard and took ven ser' 1 P,.lntll?gwas not Audubon’s alone, but he certainly stood in the its own sZ? firstT P-*). landscape, for training to insure that rheirrC • t™. ™ny army topographers received professional The earliest work in th ShihT''-'v $ Up t0 the ^mands of accurate reconnaissance. aBritishofficerondun inCnn.1 \ ^gc/ra Falls From Below (cm. no. 18) by Thomas Davies, The Falls were still rather rem 330 ‘ e"A ork from the 1760s through the Revolutionary War. they had rarely been represent'd0 '"r W^en Davies is thought to have painted them, and Father Louis Hennepin’s ^rSt ^nown sketch was made in 1698 to illustrate topographicalrecordformilitan-3' 'CS s,waterco’or impresses us as something more than a obviously tried to convev rhe purposcs- 1 hough his approach was basically documentary, he rendering which included two r/i'ma an^ majesty of this natural wonder in his panoramic met the criteria of the sublime wh; a^r apparentb’ absorbed in its grandeur. The Falls clearly J"'l“‘'y"ltotheOrigtnOfQurTj f ,,C’^un^ burke had outlined in his essay, A Philosophic capable of arousing awe or terror tllC1757). Any natural phenomenon as considered sublime: violent storms, craggy mountains, 11 10 �INTO THE WIEDERNE T 'i “To the pencil our country affords an inexhaus effect, cannot be surpassed in any part of the old world Murray in an 1809 issue of The Port Folio, perhaps in r travelers like Isaac Weld. When Murray spoke of "piett aesthetic alternative to the more dramatic sublime. Tl hail recently articulated the picturesque principle (7 Picturesque Travel; On Shetc/iin^ Landscape, 1791), assc awesome than the sublime, but more irregular than the I of beauty anil pleasure through interesting variations accompanied his article with an engraving of “Btitterm vania, a rustic scene clearly of a different order than Xi If America’s sublime landscapes were few and f still little known), her picturesque ones were extensive, settlers saw the wilderness only as an obstacle or an i cleared away. Aesthetic attachments developed only as vantage point of a comfortable settlement. Ironically, its pleasure in America's wilderness, and most of the ea America were transplanted Englishmen, such as Williat Joshua Shaw, all of whom arrived between 1790 anti 182 explorers, for though many of them traveled extensive! Two important developments in the early nine interest in rhe American landscape and its representatic magnet for travelers and immigrants, curiosity about th markedly. The wilderness, first regarded as a symbol began to be seen as an endless resource, something to I second development was the rise of Romanticism as tl Europe and America. The Romantic spirit embodied id, which were to have a profound influence on society’s became the mirror of both the transcendent creator ; landscape, then, offered enlightenment and self-discov From the Renaissance to the late eighteenth ccr rested upon its historical associations, predominantly tl: landscape without history was primitive and, for all int European lack of interest in America’s w ilderness rcsid sublime sights, but also in its ahistorical rawness. Art present. (Its only ruins, found in Central America, we Barbara Novak has described how this interpretation cam wilderness, ever new in its virginity, also stretched back i America’s “lack of history” was precisely the beginning The association of Nature with the creating Spirit was �INTO THE WILDERNESS (1800-1850) To the pencil our country affords an inexhaustible abundance, which for picturesque effect, cannot be surpassed in any part of the old world,” wrote the Philadelphia artist George Murray in an 1809 issue of'The Port Folio, perhaps in reaction to the Eurocentrist opinions of travelers like Isaac Weld. W hen Murray spoke of “picturesque effect,” he alluded to a specific aesthetic alternative to the more dramatic sublime. The English aesthetician William Gilpin had recently articulated the picturesque principle {Three Essays: On Picturesque Beauty On Picturesque Travel; On Sketching Landscape, 1791), asserting that wild terrain which was’less au esome than the sublime, but more irregular than the formal garden, could produce sensations of beauty and pleasure through interesting variations of pattern and composition. Murray accompanied his article with an engraving of “Buttermilk Falls” in Luzerne County, Pennsyl­ vania, a rustic scene clearly of a different order than Niagara Falls. If America s sublime landscapes were few and far between (the more sublime west was still little known), her picturesque ones were extensive. As Roderick Nash has shown, the early settlers saw the wilderness only as an obstacle or an economic resource, to be consumed or cleared away. Aesthetic attachments developed only as it was tamed and lost, or seen from the vantage point of a comfortable settlement. Ironically, it was the E uropean visitor who first found pleasure in America’s wilderness, and most of the early professional landscape painters in America were transplanted Englishmen, such as William and Thomas Birch, Francis Guy, and Joshua Shaw, all of whom arrived between 1790 and 1820. None of these artists could be called explorers, for though many of them traveled extensively, they never penetrated the frontier. Two important developments in the early nineteenth century stimulated intensified interest in the American landscape and its representation. As the new United States became a magnet for travelers and immigrants, curiosity about the country and its appearance increased markedly. The wilderness, first regarded as a symbol of backwardness by the young nation, began to be seen as an endless resource, something to be trumpeted rather than hidden. The second development was the rise of Romanticism as the most powerful new cultural force in Europe and America. The Romantic spirit embodied ideals of personal freedom and discovery, which were to have a profound influence on society’s perception of the landscape. Nature became the mirror of both the transcendent creator and the individual human soul. The landscape, then, offered enlightenment and self-discovery. From the Renaissance to the late eighteenth century, the significance of landscape had rested upon its historical associations, predominantly those of antiquity or the middle ages. A landscape without history was primitive and, for all intents, artistically unworthy. 1 he early European lack of interest in America’s wilderness resided not only in its perceived paucity of sublime sights, but also in its ahistorical rawness. America seemed to have no past, only a present. (Its only ruins, found in Central America, were as cryptic as its native inhabitants.) Barbara Novak has described how this interpretation came to be inverted by Romanticism; 1 he wilderness, ever new in its virginity, also stretched back into primordial time, she m rites. \ irgin America’s “lack of history” was precisely the beginning of all history, the still-flow cling Ellen. The association of Nature with the creating Spirit was also a central feature ol the Romantic 13 �I Stunderof the I ludson Rix er School, as well as American landscape painting h, P ' to the nineteenth century, most ambmous American-born artists, such as West and C.' .« vent abroad for study or patronage, Dole may have absorbed something of the Engli J . I tradition dliring his adolescence, but once in America he hardly looked back. Like an, limner, he picked up technical tidbits from local hacks, but his particular talent and sensibd f were perfectly fitted for rhe new Romantic age. I o be self-taught was not necessarily a liah’r ' from the Romantic point of view. If anything, it might lead to a fresher vision. Cole’s vi would be consumed by landscape — landscape picturesque and sublime, real and imagin i” Ohio was no longer a frontier region when Cole arrived, but its scenery contained \V ilderness to flavor his readings of Cooper, Wordsworth, and other Romantic writers Aft^h" move to .New York in 1825, the artist encountered more inspiring wildernesses in drat sparsely settled Catskills and Adirondacks. Although not in the frontier, many sections oH mountains were still virgin, and Cole mined from them a repertoire of dramatic motifs continued to appear in American landscape painting for generations to come (cat no 17 ' aq Cole's approach to landscape reflected Archibald Alison’s views (Essays oft/ie\a'ti°' Principles ofTaste, 1790), which stressed the psychological association of beauty, imaginati morality, as well as the more contemporary writings of his friend, William Cullen B '°n’ described paintings of the unspoiled wilderness as “acts of religion.” Cole, himself art'™ I i most ardently the new conception of landscape and America’s adequacy to provide ir« this famous Essay on American Scenery (1835), he writes: a®e’ n “There are those who through ignorance or prejudice strive to maintain that American scenery possesses little that is interesting or truly beautiful__ that it is rude without picturesqueness and mountainous without sublimity — that being destitute of those vestiges of antiquity, whose associations so strongly affect the mind, it may not be compared with European scenery....yet the most distinctive, and perhaps the most impressive, characteristic of American scenery is its wildness....there are those who regret that with the improvements of civilization the sublimity of the wilderness should pass away: or the scene of solitude from which the hand of nature has never been lifted, affect the mind with of m-in hCeP COnued em°tlOn than aUS,K Which the hand of man hM touch^ Amid them t|)e cons “ »' G<x> ■l>0 cream, - they are Iris M'orks. and rhe mind is case into rhe itcmplation of eternal things.” ' oiivii.riou that iheaim'rofhh 0''° s W0|-k to allegorical landscape, reflecting his ynnl'l be met through ' I)'UI'I||’K — first in rhe traditional hierarchy of subject matter 1,1,1 y" f'-XW <///.//,•( IK39 I()|ls ',;iri(,n.s serial works, such as T/m Course ofEmpire (l^b) " i'1'. ' '.cere increasingly imiirin.n'P ? ■ i* ^oin!lnt'c infinitude of time and space in landscapes II nit tlicjr focus upon the 11> ? " S exl’l<l|:llions became more cerebral than geograp ’> h "i itiote, of scientists and ■irtisi'n'’ ( mid evolution paralleled the more phssM 14 If the wilderness symbolized God and creation tor R echo, the physical evolution of the world for their scientific cc only eight years younger than Cole, and his vision of Nature• Darwin, the scientist, replaced symbolism and allegory with explorers of rhe first half of the nineteenth century tended in spirit. This is not to say that the moral and historical ideas .them, but, on the whole, it was the direct observation of pla< After the Louisiana Purchase (1803), the governnie new territory. The Lewis and Clark Expedition and severs and inventoried part of this vast region, but no artists aceomp; when Major Stephen Long was assigned to bring back pictc data. Long's partv. protected by a complement of soldiers, and two artists: Samuel Seymour and Titian Peale. Seyn Indians, Peale, the flora and fauna. Seymour, who goes dow artist to depict the Rocky Mountains (cat. no. 32, p. 12), rt probable an English immigrant whose previous commissioi �brace these new ideas was 1 homas Cole, a young sin Ohio in 1820. Cole has been popularly hailed well as American landscape painting in general ; American-born artists, such as West and Copley iy have absorbed something of the English art merica he hardly looked back. Like any country al hacks, but his particular talent and sensibility To be self-taught was not necessarily a liability it might lead to a fresher vision. Cole’s vision ; picturesque and sublime, real and imagined, n Cole arrived, but its scenery contained enough rdsworth, and other Romantic writers. After his tered more inspiring wildernesses in the still lough not in the frontier, many sections of these tm them a repertoire of dramatic motifs which iting for generations to come (cat. no. 17, p. 48). jchibald Alison’s views (Essays ofthe Nature and lological association of beauty, imagination, and ings of his friend, William Cullen Bryant, who as “acts of religion.” Cole, himself, articulated nd America’s adequacy to provide its image. In writes: ;h ignorance or prejudice can scenery possesses ly beautiful — :squeness and ity — that being destitute whose associations so lay not be compared the most distinctive, >ive, characteristic of ess....there are those ovements of civilization >s should pass away: which the hand of affect the mind with lan aught which the hand em the consequent :ator - they are his I is cast into the ;s.” work to allegorical landscape, reflecting h' in the traditional hierarchy of subject m rial works, such as The Course ofEmpire ticinfinitude oftime and space in an , j_ itions became more cerebral than geof £cal and evolution paralleled the more p ! I ■- ■- If the wilderness symbolized God and creation for Romantic poets, it preserved, like an echo, the physical evolution of the world for their scientific contemporaries. Charles Darwin was only eight years younger than Cole, and his vision of Nature was equally unorthodox. However. Darwin, the scientist, replaced symbolism and allegory with evidence and analysis. The artist­ explorers of the first half of the nineteenth century tended to be more Darwinian than Colian in spirit. This is not to say that the moral and historical ideas so important to Cole did not touch .them, but, on the whole, it was the direct observation of places and people that drove them on. After the Louisiana Purchase (1803), the government set out to explore and survey its new territory. The Lewis and Clark Expedition and several subsequent expeditions mapped and inventoried part of this vast region, but no artists accompanied these explorations until 1819, when Major Stephen Long was assigned to bring back pictorial as well as written and physical data. Long’s party, protected by' a complement of soldiers, consisted of naturalists, surveyors, and two artists: Samuel Seymour and Titian Peale. Seymour was to record landscapes and Indians, Peale, the flora and fauna. Seymour, who goes down in history' as the first professional artist to depict the Rocky Mountains (cat. no. 32, p. 12), remains a shadowy figure. He was probably an English immigrant whose previous commissions must not have taken him much 15 �. ' ? j’Afe.h beyond Philadelphia, nor into any prominence. He may have been lured into acceptingMajor Long’s risky low-paying appointment in order to boost a stalled career. W het ter re deeper motives is unknown. rm™ into an Titian Ramsay Peale, II, on the other hand, appears to us in vivid detail. ,j‘s[ illustrious artistic family, he, at age twenty, already enjoyed a growing reputation as a na The previous year he had made a field trip to Georgia and Florida, which prepare um more demanding journey to the West. Peale was a born explorer, coupling an ent adventure with an innate curiosity about the physical world, which latter quants y je(| from his famous father, Charles Willson Peale. On the Long Expedition, he often acc01^j the lead parties, hunted buffalo with Indians, and became an expert archer. I e rcrun\ire ,UK| more than a hundred drawings and paintings rendered in the field with meticu oU* ^jscape sensitivity (cat. no. 27, p.15). Many of his specimen subjects appear a§?linst.-,‘n jnCjian backgrounds, as in Yellow headed Blackbird (cat. no. 28, p. 49) with its distant yew o /)/Y/i^xcod village. I he native Americans come into sharper focus in one small painting, uin • cts [0 on die river 1‘lalle (cat. no. 26). I lere, Peale strays from his assigned natural historypea]e record with documentary clarity a particular scene of Indian life as he fount it. ... .injafour participated in two later extensive expeditions: a two year exploration of Co offl u 16 year trip around the world as a senior nai (1838-42, usually known as the Wilkes E Wilkes). There is no record that his coll wilderness journey. Samuel Seymour ha portraying some of the earliest views of Pl; apparently failed to send off his career. \ record. Perhaps this was due, in part, to th was still runningahead of public interest.! did not accomplish what Thomas Cole's n with James Fenimore Cooper's first Leat Mohicans (1826). These literary bombsh �y have been lured into accepting Major |t a stalled career. W hether he had anv Blears to us in vivid detail. Born into an ■yed a growing reputation as a naturalist, ■nd Florida, which prepared him for the ■n explorer, coupling an enthusiasm for ■vorld, which latter quality he inherited Bong Expedition, he often accompanied Ime an expert archer. He returned with ■ in the field with meticulous care and I'n subjects appear against landscape b. 49) with its distant view of an Indian In one small painting, Indian breast tatorb [his assigned natural history subjects to Indian life as he found it. 1 itian Pea c [ear exploration of Colombia; and a four year trip around the world as a senior naturalist with the United States Exploring Expedition 118.38-42, usually known as the Wilkes Expedition, after its leader, naval Lieutenant Charles Wilkes). J here is no record that his colleague on the Long Expedition ever made another wilderness journey. Samuel Seymour had also returned with a respectable set of watercolors, portraying some ofthe earliest views of Plains landscapes and Indian gatherings, but these works apparently failed to send off his career. Within three years, his name had faded from historical record. Perhaps this was due, in part, to the fact that, in 1820, scientific interest in the wilderness was still running ahead ofpublic interest. Seymour’s competent but unexciting little watercolors did not accomplish what Thomas (Joie’s more extraordinary canvases did a few years later, along '■ ith James h cnimorc < looper’s first Leatherstocking rale, 77/r Pioneers (1823) and The 1 .nsrofthe .Mohicans (1826). These literary bombshells by (Joie’s friend and neighbor quickly reached a 17 �J flr'i/t (■/ ■ /jir{ 31 . o/wact& /tac^fA'/(.ma 30 "as a Swiss teenager, artistically nmr- • er' d*^erentc’rcumstances. PeterRindisbacher an arduous emigration to the wilds ofr°CI0U|S^llC mostIy se,f-crained. In 1821, he had endured h'ghhghts of the journey in close!, ^ntral Canada with his homesteading family by recording throughout his short life. His nJr i , erved documentary drawings. He continued this habit or the landscape, and his rrrisrh-. .t l.lriosirV focused more on Indian life than on the settlers l’aJnc>ngs in the frontier comm ?Itl0ns seem to have been modest. The popularity of his ric“. crthcless induced him to scel-UniCICS " lei^e flc lived, first in Canada, then in Wisconsin, parallclingCo]e’s.ljnios ' Vtl rnoresoPh*sticatedcareerin the burgeoning citv of St. Louis, "ork always remained rooted i C<,|nCc,n^orary move from Oh io to New York Citv. Rindisbacher’s ons were based on direct in the settled Rast. I |c \ o m'1’111'.’ :llld Prov*ded an authentic glimpse ofa world known to no’ 29, p, J7jf ,Jn(| ||(. (|c • ,,c '^d to have painted the earliest scene ofa tipi interior (cat. 111 nm women and children more often than most of rhe other 18 painters of Indians. His views of a Chippewa family tra documentary' approach (cat. nos. 30, 31). Rindisbacher’s death in 1834, at the age of twei become a more illustrious career. .Although his techniqu those of a provincial painter, the potential for wider recogn already been established. When several of his paintir magazine shortly before his death, an anonymous writer "first artist" of "untamed wilderness....[giving] to the wi which he was bred.” To what extent he appreciated that depictions of that wilderness is not clear, but he could hard was changing daily and an entire Indian culture was changi the middle of the century, there were still opportunities which had been little adulterated by the white man. and the 1830s sought to do just this. There is no record that George Catlin encountere to the latter's adopted ci tv between 1830 and 1834, but he had already sensed the growing public interest in Indian si �.■ I I i I i (' //,///, u/ C i.y L/ ll ci/ftr 31 q Iftil/ Jntier. es, the first true "frontier nees. PeterRindisbacher n 1821, he had endured ding family by recording He continued this habit 1 life than on the settlers t. 'The popularity of his ida, then in Wisconsin, geoningeityof St. Louis, ork City. Rindisbacher’s >ns were based on direct ipse of a world known to ;ne of a tipi interior (cat. than most of the other n painters of Indians. His views of a Chippewa family traveling in different seasons typify his documentary approach (cat. nos. 30, 31). Rindisbacher’s death in 1834, at the age of twenty eight, cut short what might have become a more illustrious career. Although his technique and style had not advanced beyond those of a provincial painter, the potential for wider recognition, based on his subject matter, had already been established. When several of his paintings were reproduced in a Baltimore magazine shortly before his death, an anonymous writer observed that Rindisbacher was the “first artist” of “untamed wilderness....[giving] to the world themes as fresh as the soil upon which he was bred.” To what extent he appreciated that his work might also be among the last depictions of that wilderness is not clear, but he could hardly have been unaware that the frontier was changing daily and an entire Indian culture was changing with it. Fora very brief time before the middle of the century, there were still opportunities to observe native American societies which had been little adulterated by the white man, and a trio of important artist-explorers in the 1830s sought to do just this. There is no record that George Catlin encountered Peter Rindisbacher during his visits to the latter’s adopted city between 1830 and 1834, but he must have known of his work. Catlin had already sensed the growing public interest in Indian subjects. 11 owe ver, his route to a career 19 �lifterent from, and much more ambitious than, Rindisbacherk lv,^ on that insight was v er ^^m the site of this exhibition. His father, a mode^ Catlin was born only a sho t d < wi|kes.Barre from Connecticut, and hoped his son would successful law ver, hd not , jngpreoccupauon. with pam mgcutshorth.s legal career, follow him into the law. < J hia in 1821 to establish himself as an artist. Like Cole and however, and he movedt01' ht yct polished enough to gain acceptance in exhibitions Rindisbachcr. he was ^thin a few years. Catlin recognized, with n2 at the Pennsylvania • aiture was the most reliable way of surviving as an artist, but it other voting pamteis. tna f fortune. Most of the great reputations were made in the was not the surest roau ti . painting. It must have become clear to him that, already fiskicr, 1W demand ng by stQrm CrkicaI response t0 his WOfk was > A his thirties, he was n , dlsU|tingly hostile. William Dunlap, the leading art critic of his emims.ast^and m prodai d Cadin ^competent.” If he was lacking and a llioma. hc|castl)it deficient m ambition and initiative. Forcseeingadead‘7r/^ Mek portraitist, Gatlin resolved to make his mark outside of the art establishment d sown imique form of history painting, subject to his own standards something - ' ?-■" 7" I - w is beginning to do at just about the same time. (Cole and Catlin had both moved ‘ <<w YorkCitv around 1825, but there is no record of them exchanging ideas.) " ' ' On sex oral occasions, Catlin had been intrigued by Indians he had encountered m the ...... < ... j citics where he had lived, and he had even done a portrait of one of them. Now the ", - - < ■ -A him that the native Americans were on the verge of losing their natural culture, and \\herOugh pictorial record, taken from life, would preserve their ways. Aside from the few ■ces; Indian subjects by Seymour and Peale, which Catlin had certainly seen in the Pealc Museum in Philadelphia, he probably knew of no other authentic portrayals of the Indians in native habitats. Here was an opportunity not only to make a name for himself as an artist, but to contribute something of significance to history' and science. "City” portrayals of Indians were not exactly rare by the 1820s. Gustavus Hesselius had done several studio portraits around 1735, and Benjamin West had imagined Penn’s legendarytreatv with the Indians some thirty five years later, but no one had ever attempted a comprehen­ sive record of Indian civilization. The pictorial stereotypes of the preceding two centuries continued to prevail, along with the Hobbesian and Rousseauian conceptual stereotypes, even though white men and red men had interacted over those years with steadily increasing frequency. The people having the most intimate contact with unassimilated Indians were usually not artists or writers, but traders, trappers and prospectors. Catlin understood this, and knew that his project would require a deep penetration of the unsettled frontier. M ith a considerable investment of time, energy, and money, he would have to retrace the steps, more or less, of Seymour and Peale. Catlin was a man of his time, and he felt the winds of Romanticism as surely as Cole did. He wrote in his Letters and Notes (1841), “My enthusiastic admiration of man in the honest and elegant simplicity of nature....together with the desire to study’ my art independently of the embarrassments which the ridiculous fashions of civilized society have thrown in its way, has led me t° the wilderness for a while, as the true school of the arts.”’ Whatever the scientific value is un ertaking, it was audacious to the point of foolhardiness, and confirmed Catlin as hot i -irrTn31?01^^ a"adv^oturer. Yet, as Brian Dippie has noted in his recent study of Catlin scarcer, men of otTT3 wou d ?ot 8e dle exclusive domain of moon-eyed dreamers....it would atyac' type” n SenSe edlcated to achieving success, artist-entrepreneurs, and Catlin was o 1 (of Lewis'and ((■lark L°uis in 1830> he made contact with Governor Wdliam hnwledecahl,. *. re), who was then Superintendent of Indian Affairs and pro .1 «edBoal,lt as anyone about the tribes west of the Mississippi. Clark greeted rhe arusts 29 plans with favor and provided him with tangib a comparatively modest trip up river to Wiscor Fort Leavenworth. This excursion prepared journey two years later. Catlin’s 1832 expedition took him. p; thousand miles up the Missouri to Fort Unioi encountered communities of Blackfoot, Crov tively free of the white man’s influence. Catli his return journey, he spent nearly a month w extinguished by an epidemic a few years later, ground since Seymour and Peale, and none h Traveling in the frontier only during t in the winter in order to finish his paintings and his 1832 trip, he had produced enough paintii was to be the prototype for the much grander t took the opportunity to tag along with the first tribes of the southwest. This trip was shorter fiercely hot summer. Fever hit the large party four hundred and fifty five soldiers died. Catl in Oklahoma, he decided to make the five hu his mustang. Catlin’s final journey into the Great legendary Pipestone Quarry in southwester, obtained the red stone from which they made t to the Indians, few white men had ever visite, to call upon all of their wits to avoid disaster at entrance to the mythic site. Catlin not only p: character. The red mineral which he was the honor. (An intuitive geologist, just as he was a, usually astute.) The product of Catlin’s four exploratii Gallery, consisting of four hundred and eig' thousands of artifacts. Whatever fame or fortu former, none of the latter), Catlin could take [ a symbiosis of art and science akin to Charles ) history. The critical reception of his paintings in 1837 than it had been a decade earlier, ar public, at large, also responded enthusiastical the artistic form. Despite this success, Catlin for the proposed Smithsonian Institution was Historical opinion has varied over tl studies on the artist. Catlin was clearly an incc for expedience in his rush toward success. At i and worthy of positive judgment by the likes < been ambivalent about his goals. His mission because it was sincere, even passionate. I ultimately failed, because, in fact, itwassubor himself, in the Letters and Notes, that his projc his machinations to win fame as an artistcent< the artistic. Thomas Cole, by contrast, neve �I ■■S' ambittous than, Rindi , mion. His father, a ‘SbJch*r’s. rent, and hoped his anting cut short his le ^ W°uld □self as an artist. Like m 7^’ o gain acceptance ir. C.olc ar>d Catlin recognized, w^ y of surviving as an arti J " anY ‘’comparatively modest trip up river to Wislonsh"followed by’a si^tdpTonX M^uri to XXZ" i.» ammhim “lly ■nd logisti““’ f» - t reputations were made’i?’?1 'ecome clear to him that alm response to his work ,y nlap, the leading art critic OS icompetent.” If he was lacl ’ id initiative. Foreseeing a dead8 outside of the art establishment o his own standards, something oOle and Catlin had both moved exchanging ideas.) lians he had encountered in the ortrait of one of them. Now the losing their natural culture, and ; their ways. Aside from the few had certainly' seen in the Peale ntic portray'als of the Indians in e a name for himself as an artist, nee. :1820s. Gustavus Hesselius had had imagined Penn’s legendary id ever attempted a comprehenof the preceding two centuries in conceptual stereotypes, even years with steadily increasing ith unassimilated Indians were ors. Catlin understood this, and the unsettled frontier. With a I have to retrace the steps, more imanticism as surely as Cole did. iration of man in the hones .a^d jy my art independently t^ have thrown in its way has ed ’’ Whatever the scie^ficva^ ss, and con^n\efdcCX’s career, is recent study o m attract :yed dreamer* CaVin was of the :preneurs, and Catm — i Clark - — William ict with Governor ■ - -obably as Affairs and proL? Indian ‘ d the artist s I I Catlin’s 1832 expedition took him, partly by steamboat, partly by canoe, almost two thousand miles up the Missouri to Fort Union, in extreme western North Dakota There he encountered communities of Blackfoot, Crow, and Assiniboin Indians, which were still rela­ tively free of the white man s influence. Catlin was elated to find their culture still intact On his return journey, he spent nearly a month with the hospitable Mandans, who were virtually extinguished by an epidemic a few years later. No artist had gone so far west or covered so much ground since Seymour and Peale, and none had ever depicted so much Indian life. Traveling in the frontier only during the warmer months, he would usually return cast in the winter in order to finish his paintings and maintain contacts with the art world A year after his 1832 trip, he had produced enough paintings to assemble his first “Indian Gallery,” which was to be the prototype for the much grander traveling exhibition he was planning. In 1834, he took the opportunity to tag along with the first United States military expedition to contact the tribes of the southwest. This trip was shorter but more grueling, made on horseback during a fiercely hot summer. Fever hit the large party before it reached the Rockies, and a third of the four hundred and fifty five soldiers died. Catlin fell ill, too, but after recovering at Fort Gibson in Oklahoma, he decided to make the five hundred mile journey back to St. Louis alone with his mustang. Catlin’s final journey into the Great Plains occurred in 1836. His objective was the legendary Pipestone Quarry' in southwestern Minnesota, where the Sioux and other tribes obtained the red stone from which they made their pipes. Because of its isolation and its sanctity to the Indians, few white men had ever visited the quarry'. Catlin and his two companions had to call upon all of their wits to avoid disaster at the hands of a band of guardian Sioux and to gain entrance to the mythic site. Catlin not only painted the quarry', he also examined its geological character. The red mineral which he was the first to describe was later named Catlinite in his honor. (An intuitive geologist, just as he was an intuitive ethnologist, Catlin’s observations were usually astute.) The product of Catlin’s four explorations into the West was the immense touring Indian Gallery, consisting of four hundred and eighty five oil paintings, a full-size Crow tipi, and thousands of artifacts. Whatever fame or fortune it might bring him (there would be some of the former, none of the latter), Catlin could take pride in its artistic and documentary value. It was a symbiosis of art and science akin to Charles Willson Peale s museum of portraiture and natural history. The critical reception of his paintings in the New York art community was more positive in 1837 than it had been a decade earlier, and the Europeans were no less affirmative. '1 he public, at large, also responded enthusiastically, though more to the exotic subject matter than the artistic form. Despite this success, Catlin’s ardent campaign to sell the Gallery to Congress for the proposed Smithsonian Institution was a failure. Historical opinion has varied over the years, as William Treuttner has shown in his studies on the artist. Catlin was clearly an inconsistent painter and sometimes sacrificed quality for expedience in his rush toward success. At its best, the work could be impress^ c an mot ing, and worthy of positive judgment bv the likes of Delacroix and Baudelaire, at in seems to avc been ambivalent about his goals. His mission to preserve Indian culture for posterity succeeded because it was sincere, even passionate. His mission to be remem ere as a oreat a i ultimately failed, because, in fact, it was subordinated co his anthropo» ogica impuse. , himself, in the Letters and Notes, that his project was more anthropological than artistic and all his machinations to win fame as an artist centered on the scientific value of his '^™e”ha" the artistic. Thomas Cole, by contrast, never allowed his obsession wit a eg , I ■ 1 ■: i ■: sippi- Clark greeted - 21 �15 artistic perspective. Even though Catlin’s anthropological mission succeeded, the product was not flawless. Documentary’ assessment of his work has undergone much revision over the years. Catlin astutely realized that his largely unprecedented images had to compete with those public pictorial and literary stereotypes we have already mentioned. Fie appended to his Letters tint Sotes the authenticating endorsements of numerous experts in high places, such as Governor lark. 4 hey terified that the artist had, indeed, visited the Indians on their home turf and hat recorded them accurately’. Not all of his contemporaries agreed with that estimate. Alfred Jaco r i nr h‘m a humbug,” whose representations of the frontier were accepted only because t e pu ic was more naive than travelers like Miller himself. Modern scholars have turnc up n,U"!erous maccuracies and omissions, but these have not been serious enough to cast any destruction'™^ rema'nS a vaIuable and compelling picture of Indian culture before its near- narur-1li?t|l'in Snep.Ortage Was ^hstically objective on the whole, in the tradition of artistS Z i CaleL His greatest achievement, the Indian portraits, reveals a mastery of zatifn (1 n I?"8’ with CconomY and flair and without unnecessary glamour or ideah encountered (cat. nos. 12, p. 45; 14, 15), and he rendered them with freshness and a sense of drama, not only pictorially, but literarily (in the Letter and Notes}, as well. As an artist-explorer, Catlin rivaled Titian Peale in indefatigability and miles traversed. After his four trips to the West, Catlin took his Indian Gallery on tour to Europe, where he resided, off and on, for the next thirty-two years. In the 1850s, he traveled to South America, portraying some of the native tribes there, then sailed up the Pacific coast to Washington and penetrated the Rockies from the west (he had never made it into the mountains on his earlier trips). All of this speaks for a certain restlessness of spirit, not to mention endurance of body. The second artist to trek into the deeper wilderness of the West in the 1830s made only one great journey, but it exceeded slightly in distance, and considerably in duration, any of the four Catlin made. Karl Bodmer was also a more polished and consistent artist than Catlin, although his work is less well-known to the general public. Bodmer was a twenty-three-searold Swiss artist, already well-trained, when he was selected by Prince Maximilian of Wied to accompany him on a trip through the North American wilderness. Maximilian, born into the ruling house of a small Prussian principality, had earned considerable respect as a naturalist in the mold of the great Alexander von Humboldt. For his scientific exploration in America, he 23 22 �11 observe with penetration and record with precision. Bodmer w, required an artist whocou>d and portraitist as well as a meticulous miniaturist. Fo the right man. a sensmt k throlIgl the eastern United States making almost a year, the armt an 1 These included contacts with other scientists’ preparations tor theirear » thcm T'itian Peale. While viewing the paintings from the Long naturalists, and explorers ' „ wkh astonishmen[ that factual representations of the Indians Expedition,Maximiha States (this was a ycar before Catlin assembled his first seemed to be so rare ^eEumpeans traversed the same territory all rhe way up to Fort Union. Unlike their nmdecessor thev extended their journey into the deeper wilderness of Montana, and into the moredangerous winter season. Maximilian wanted to explore the Rockies as well as the Plains, and thev reached the farthest outpost of the American Fur Company, F ort McKenzie, i n August. Hostilities between neighboring Indian tribes deterred the party from further advance. AlthouCTh there was always risk in traveling through the wilderness, most of the tribes east of Fort Union were on amicable terms with the white man in the 1830s. Rindisbacher, Catlin and, later, Alfred Jacob Miller never encountered any actual combat during their travels. Maximilian and Bodmer, however, did witness a bloody battle between the Blackfeet and the Assiniboin outside Fort McKenzie. Frontier wisdom warned that whites could easily be caught up in such a war, so the travelers turned back to spend the winter months at Fort Clark, a small outpost in North Dakota. It was one of the harshest winters on record; their quarters were primitive, and their provisions meager, but they managed to accumulate extensive data on the friendly Mandans, whom Catlin had visited the previous year. Although Bodmer had to thaw out his frozen colors almost ever)’ morning, he executed an impressive body of work during those hostile months. We don’t know precisely why Bodmer had sought to join Maximilian’s wilderness expedition. Perhaps itwas the opportunity forayoung artist to make a reputation; or the promise of an expenses-paid vsanderjahre of a kind increasingly popular with the Romantic generation. But Bodmer s crisp, objective style suggests a less restless temperament than Catlin’s, and one can imagine that it was a stem Swiss resolve, as well as a disciplined absorption in his work, that kept him going through that brutal winter. Whatever the case, Bodmer never went on another expedition. After his return to Europe, he moved to France and settled down in the pastoral solace of Barbizon. There is no question that Bodmer was a disciplined technician (Catlin, on average, probably produced half a dozen paintings to every one of Bodmer’s). He typically spent two or ree a\s on a watercolor portrait, and this carefulness has endeared him to historians and arri?r° P/StS' >, .wb,at did the subiec'ts, themselves, think about these likenesses by a white Some T ^nCe \IaX,n]ll'an wrote (as did Catlin concerning his own portraits) that reactions varied, areas whlSl Portrayals a« “bad medicine,” particularly in the more remote Mandan who had'h laia"cs 01 anY kind had rarely been encountered. On the other hand, the Bodmer well camo r on£er contact with the whites and who got to know both Catlin and themselves o’ortraved°; aPkreClate S>°d hkenesses, and were often extremely proud to have they could trv working in rh'^p3'' ^"° ^andans even asked to borrow Bodmer’s materials so (John Ewers has reomrinn 7 ?ropeanma"nerthemselves. Hegracefullyaccommodated them oftheirdecorated robes sll T.6*7 orts 'n °fa Vanishing Frontier). Bodmer’s portraya s which commemorated thc°" C e7worked with two kinds of images: stick figures, in scenes symbols and decorations m/T S eXpl°its (usuallY Panted by men); and abstract geometric , Only one person 17 Y by WOmen) <caL no’ 7>’ Buffalo Bull's Back Fat not a M t0.haVe been Porcrayeci by both Catlin and Bodmer. That was ’ Ot a Mandan> odd|y enough, but a Blackfoot chief. Comparison of the i J jTF'W ■ F' ? F t YXk'y O c & r- F* if -fr" I *■ 7 two portraits reveals a distinct similarity of likeness, despite the difference in vantage points, thus confirming the probable accuracy of all the portraits done by the two artists. Catlin’s oil paintings were done, or at least started, in the field, and show his customary bravura technique and richness of color. Bodmer’s crisp field sketches were worked up into more refined engravings after his return to Europe. His powerful portrait of Pe/iriska-Ruhpa (Paso Ravens) in the Costume ofthe Dog Dance (cat. no. 10, p. 26) typifies the kind of detailed attention to attire and paraphernalia required by the artist’s naturalist patron. Bodmer and Catlin both endowed their human subjects with great dignity and vitality, as well. Comparison of their landscapes shows that they were equally impressed by the topographical wonders they encountered. Neither painter felt any need for dramatic exaggera tion (cat. nos. 6, p. 28; 12, p. 45). Catlin, more than Bodmer, however, preferred a sweeping panorama, usually from a high vantage point. The Swiss was more inclined to take a lower and eloser position, allowing hills and rock formations to loom above us. In some current interpre­ tations of landscape painting, Catlin’s view reveals an implicit sense of human dominance, 25 ��3 I I s iSB MH tI • ■ ' ■ ! J reflecting the spirit of Manifest Destiny.” Bodmer’s, by contrast, suggests the av. csomeness and mystery- ofnature, aspects of the sublime which often characterized Romantic onc-ptions of an scape in Europe. This quality is evident in Bodmer's Assiniboin MedicineSign Zr. nY’ P’ *; a.haunnnJ close-up of a talisman erected by the Indians near Fort Union to windsu eptTaHeVin^is“ou^iXe."^ t0 B°dmer’S " set themselves the longer task of ---- ing the before that colored editions were verv limir i d hich meant the artist-explorers after! 830 hlr|c, C ,.c.cause oftile broad interest in nicn supers, most of ’ie beginning, in fact, tjlat r. , .?leo published. Maximilian had intended from expedition. Bodmer’s personal i/V P!cturcs would accompany his written account of their rOr" "t,lcr Painting opportunities ? VCI?cnt ln the production of the portfolio took him away first ‘,'11’*,,c(''r'’tllnPr)r>tform in Maximilian’0 p IC "aS be’ng well-paid for it. Bodmer's images ■ ■■>». as well as in a separate Published some of his nicrures. although he was more in the habit of <’ --, rlc |->V I °b™kXp„hs' s illustrated bv printed line drawings he had adapted from his paintings. nma,im| Alfred Jacob Miller, the third artist in this trio of significant frontier exp lo c T far fewer printed versions of his paintings than either Catlin or o mcr. i <-. “ ,’oi[in„ his many painted copies of his originals but never seems to hate accn intc vs c • f ” re­ work through publication. His temperament appears to have icon more t c. technical neurial. A native of Baltimore. Miller had studied m Europe and dplayed a^techni^ sophistication closer to Bodmer’s than to Catlin s. 1 hs mom cs or acu. 3 Drummond Stewart’s offer to accompany him on a trek into the Ro k Mountain.^ unclear. Stewart, an adventurous Scottish aristocrat and W aterloo \ etcran. ’ countrv. Miller had on his fifth expedition to the annual trappers rendezsous, c cep i . skillful artists in that a studio in New Orleans at the time and may have been one of the ■ hat shv and city when Stewart passed through in preparation for his expedition. 1 he �refined artist was an unlikely companion for the '’W^bu^ and tumble frontier. Miller, for his part, was a cumpc n but [() his carecr. have felt that this sort of Romantic odyssey cotdd add the frontier m Stewart’s small party embarked from St. Louis the pLaramie and uptheOre^ springof 1837. His itinerary took them alongthe I latte R 1837and Bodmer in 18^- 1 f ffi. „.UK further ... .he solid. dun du. taken by Mmm ,he £ group reached the South Pass on the Continental D. beautiful region, b * the Wind River Mountains. Miller was the irst artist P encountered. He P less interested in the landscape than the Indians a u likenesses and actiu gjve steady Bow of drawings and watercolors which < caPtu^ groups. The variety of his genre subjects exceeds tha o of his scenes show i ^[jller his work a greater narrative flavor overall (eat. nos. -o, _4 nveen men and w orn _ between trappers and Indians, including interracia ’y0 civilization. revealthe was as conscious as Catlin was of the fragility o . more inchnc . heirvirg'n snowflakes in the sun" he wrote in his Rough Draught he^ depict them assimilationofthe Indians than eitherCathnorBodmer, wn state. While Miller's then Catlin’s and Boi echoes Rembrandt ai Captain Stew have been more diffe on deliberate advent anee and flirtations w we see the captain att his white stallion. Il Bridger, to wear in th was also captured by celebrating the past y far and wide. Millerc artist to present any e civilization. Like Bodmei �■long into thorough ■portraitist and mav ■his career. ■ the frontier, in the ■ and up the Oregon ■frnerin 1833. The ■J the wilderness of [region, but he was fed. He produced a p activities of both Is and tends to give Is show interactions nd women. Miller melting away like dined to reveal the hem in their virgin ... army veteran set out WUl1U accompanied byaovert endur---anu nitrations with death.___________ In Miller ’s drawing. Pursuit of G/ishdisplays of"manly j]d~J/nCSSl)n we see the captain attired in his trademark white buckskins ga opmgt iro n friend Jim his white stallion. He even brought along a full suit of armor for hisTront cr>™n Bridger, to wear in the rendezvous parade, like a knight out o some i •summerfest was also captured by Miller). The annual rendezvous a n^^three celebrating the past year’s hunt and attracting hundreds PP ..swell as the onlv far and wide. Miller could claim to be the only artist who ever documented m as uel artist to present any extended record of the mountain men be orc Like Mill« never even. on anorher wiUe.oess expedid.n, He se.ded ■ 31 �pcacefukontentiota \ .,rjdua1K dxMndl^ : deepened RmnamK ,ua‘ tn>m the nature neater spirit otexpiv ,>sophisticated arsts I 9ltO/r sz /tlrrH**' �■ T away from the naturalist tradition of artists like Catlin, Bodmer andp0?’0^ P'aintin~ a '^P greater spirit of expressiveness, closer to Cole’s, which would fire rh" C’ 1 hev ^raided a of sophisticated artist-explorers. e che v>sion of a new generation 5 ! i f ■t i 33 �X’.' I I ♦ i FROM E X- Settlement ant middle of the ninetee Mississippi exacerbate more dangerous than e survey topographer, Bi topographer, met the ! conspicuous as a resnh contribution to the trad and painting with Rolx in 1829 and must have during the Seminole VS began to paint more ass well by this time. With his polish which had the look of Henry Schoolcraft's bo< authoritative interprete reflects his background mainstream European composition and figur: references to paintings dimension \\ hich strike executed a decade earli tastes of the American [ cons incingly the real ai Romantic ideal numerous trips into rhe to Hawaii, riicallegoi Historical Center) refl dreamers than on-the-t Pacific shore with the s s i m i lar composition oft Historical Society). a W picture was a patently i e also brought to his f By this time, so tation. When Stanley p c >e paintings were large t tan Catlin s. In spite < ''I'ccessful than his cm 34 �FROM EXPLORATION TO TOURISM (18S0-187S) iims, wpvgrapher Benjamin Kern, killed by Indians in 1848. His bmrher Rioha™“"a topographer, met the same fate five years later. The presence of the Army became more ennspicnous as a result of these hostilities. In fact, an army man made the next significam contribution to the trad.non of the artist-explorer. Seth Eastman studied drawing at West Point and painting with Robert Weir. He was first posted to Fort Crawford on the upper Mississippi in 18’9 and must have been there when Catlin passed through in 1830. After a stint in Florida during the Seminole War, Eastman was reassigned to the Midwest in 1841. It was then that he began to paint more assiduously, focusing on the life and customs of the Indians, which he knew well by this time. \\ ith his polished style and more leisurely pace, Eastman produced easel paintings which had the look, of salon pieces more than field studies. The engravings he executed for Henry Schoolcraft’s book on the Indians quickly made a hit and established his reputation as an authoritative interpreter of Indian culture. The basically objective approach to detail in his work reflects his background as a topographic draftsman, but his respect for the classical traditions of mainstream European art is unexpected. He sought to monumentalize his subjects through composition and figural poses, as we see in the Indian Burial (cat. no. 19, p. 47). Its clear references to paintings of the Descent from the Cross by Rubens and Caravaggio add a mythic intension which strikes us as more artificial than Bodmer’s similar subject of a funerary scaffold, executed a decade earlier (cat. no. 9). Eastman’s conception satisfied the increasingly elevated tables of the American public. An authentic Indian fighter, he was uniquely qualified to bridge convincingly the real and romantic worlds. Romantic idealism also characterized the work of John Mix Stanley, an artist who mac e ’ oierous trips into the frontier during the 1840s and 1850s, and eventually tracejed all t re was to I lawaii. The allegorical tone of his well-known paintingZ.^o/77/f//-/?z/n?(18o7, Buffalo Bill ill tontal Center) reflected a perspective which was more characteristic of stay at tome creamers than on-thc-trail observers. The picture shows a group of Indians assem c on t ie ’ '-ific Lore with rhe sun setting in the background. Stanley was apparent y in uence irnikircompositionof’thc same theme, painted in 1847 by 1 ompkins. atteson ic , , 1 L .torn al Society), a New York artist who, unlike Stanley, never went w est. couis, picture was a patently imaginary scene, too, and it reflected the romanticizing pi ............. .... . ' -'-ii. V> hen Stanley pm together an Indian (tailcry <>f l'ls ° Virion and expression : - !-■ .intin---, were larger and more dramatic, il not me lot Ira mat n, tn <01111 were no more ( "Im s. In spitcoftliis, Stanley's efforts to sell the collei non to - h '"'cssfnl than his competitor's. Unhappily in 18f>5, most o up �& I . ,,. ir luUi been on loan fora number of years. (Gatlin’s Gallery was t() Smithsonian.""■ , ,(1U| jr remains there today.) Smithsonian alter Ins de. ■ sllbjects< Stanley was also a fine landscapist. Itl ,hi, Better known l< • wc scc in .sWr/torfcar. no. 33, p. 50), probahi-. p ,inr l’"C?J'';S^Sfe«»S.c.o»- ScspeJ....... , to die Washington Territory *;..... , “J ,lltcl h,s Ib.soiui" 1 . , , composition, the idiosyncratic details of, ,,p. ing P«r.e»l..e «O ., pain[ing. sKvera Expedition . ....... “S5fe Xi ’*•>* Pl°"ed T trans“nt,n““l W* Ml in tl,i, '-'nr-xt St ink's naturally gave more attention to the topographic realities of the scene. When the Golden Spike was driven into the final rail in 1869 it was also driven into the he irt of the wilderness. The next generation of artists exploring the W est sometimes by train, dfeeovered that the virgin landscape was vanishing almost as rapidly as the native American. Ss with a profound wanderlust began to seek out alternative itineraries One of the greatest American landscape painters of the period, Frederic Edwin Church, turned his gaze southward rather than westward. We have already mentioned the early expedition of Count Maurits in Brazil the later journeys of Humboldt and Maximilian ofWied (both accompanied by artists), Titian Peale’s 1830 trip to Colombia, and Catlin’s excursion (or should we say. exile) through the southern continent in the 1850s. Frederic Church made his first trip to Colombia in 1853, and went there again in 1857. (In 1859, he went to the other extreme and joined an expedition into the Arctic.) A student of Thomas Cole, he was already famous for his Hudson River School works. Like his mentor, he sensed the epic implications of the landscape, but framed them in a more scientific context. He was an avid follower of Humboldt’s work, and took an especially keen interest in current geological theories (as did Catlin). Out of this grew his infatuation with volcanoes; his many views of Cotopaxi in Ecuador are among his best-known paintings. In the Andes (cat. no. 16, p. 34), a late work based on his earlier trips, reveals his complementary- interest in exotic flora and fauna, in their own way as suggestive of the primordial world as the volcano. The spiritual and the scientific continued to be intimately linked in the contemplation of the natural world. Humboldt, Darwin, and many other naturalists at this time sought the keys to Creation in the plants and rocks they studied. Landscape painters like Church embraced this same goal in their own way. All the artist-explorers we have examined had been touched, in one way or another, by the historical implications of their subjects. Whether it was geological history or human history, the artist was increasingly cognizant of time and the tension between change and eternity. This was graphically evident in Romanticism’s fascination with ruins. Alfred Jacob Miller was not alone in likening certain American landscape formations to ancient architectural ruins. Catlin and Bodmer had both painted the “white castles” along the Missouri. But real architectural ruins were virtually- non-existent in the wildernesses of North America. Indian civilization might be dying in the Plains and Rockies, but it would leave little physical evidence behind. Only in the ' cep southwest and in Mexico and Guatemala were there conspicuous architectural remnants of ancient cultures. i r i th0 firSt art*scs’an<^ arguably the most impressive, to seek out these ruins was an mulish architect named Frederick Catherwood. In 1839, with his American companion, the t . | , lf ir< |'|‘lc? (,glst John L. Stephens, he traveled to the home of the Mayas and Aztecs, th*' ‘• r .111 ^Cn part as 11 draftsman in previous archaeological expeditions in Egyptaiu n-disi <>• < h " le"‘ls "c^’c<iuipped for this independent undertaking. 1 le and Steph'-1’-' to ■■ ■•< -c u< lifr'C Cltles <)f C°Pan and Palenque on their first trip. 1'hex returned in 15^ V, *4 �Gallery was given to the andseapist. In this ,ilv ) , p. 50). probably paints d errib >ry. ’ ss a I, atic details of spvsiih tpcditioll oia ;S. aital svstcin. and n ;i> ■. ■ ities of tin: sceiic. i \s as also di... • .■ ■•■. -1 I’cst, I. th< Lies. < >t • .-i f-:C [med h>s g; lion of Count Maunts liccotn panic si t Id we sav, exile1 ' ,cnt there a . X- he Xo ’>< i; . ‘ V- -' ' ■■ . [sen I [ lercst o m cxous-flora.) Icano, l hesi-a- t[>n of tiu oata-.; I- kes-s to Cheat I . ; th I II II lostoixtahoe II I: , ml A . b ■ v-ngtasm^ - 1*41 IV vb- • ' 3 ■calism i- ' i!k lu-Hsdtsd.-’-5 ...ur a<iJ �irri«,ts either joined • I 'j’.inki'i- wilderness. Alberr I’ ,r metric and aestlcti-. ’ r'; ';Xp|or.irion m - • L'l'v cpri"n<,t wilderness I ■; ' ■' - i ' ■ C° r likely to traftxfofmtealiti into myth I '"o- ided the dominant i.r .•• iI( !'r'' mvasc* filled "ith .•■■ . ■_ j'hcir canvases frcmiemh m..-. ; ,cn j .flighted hn *irandil'>'p • lev. - -aitl.m . r \s Patrici?'1 re:/-.: • J J Ater i •■perfect keeping with the gargantuan vulg i W 'I these artists. Thex uls-.-.i. Ct. - ir cdrhenwn Rudkin.w hose essay cm m >untr inbeauty a a P itt \ , 1As6i. Just >.•>(.• ; .-.”d (>>le hat landscape paintin'/. Bic mi M- ran became virtual cliches r : Biersr the then popular DusseLD"'S-.-h and hr than American. Veri ' : different places end effects -rhere, of grandeur and :;...■. w . . :■ •• eicr cumulatively orat> ane . i.-ncc rr mcntofj mils of\atute. [hcl d:J ■ :: -c. 1 true impression." ( nderh ing these justiti. iti nb, of tin',/-j’ld ('rc.itian . .. . . (cat. no. 25 " hde :v.. re a./v!.. of pr;niordial - . . >I . as t national parks and tsre'C's/tii'n me', e- '. i'.ot s defined 5. terms ■_.•.._■ pca^s a ce.:racteri.-cJ I'ocn.mJ \.c... ... ...■ >\lirxi ■‘pesto:.;!” one. Most Vx.:. ’.an scenes . Unds<apeoai\ 'o^moten j'-.oi-.vk pastoral environment. Bierstadt's t/-: :<• ■ leers tilts iotmo’asn-h'K !>\ ;.i\:,;p,.s:'i/p.i ■ ■-'r d back. IA is pictu:/ ais ■ _■?. es man :ic coinbt.)/s p.jst ami p.c'c r:— -c< \ _ical U'lsk-cgi .und ;;l'd i,o';s t'c radiant s-c- Manifest Destine in fa , str.de. I he spscirot Iv.c'stadi’sjiii t'arecoul P ■liiu vi l>\ ! :n;cs I . \\ f sms some ruentv v pucimc, toecthci "moving panorama'’ of i uavsdc,.! along the trail and saw its wiklerne '■‘r’ ■"'Hcht to < apture the diama and m -b's. liptivc entertamnient. “ of indivuhial paintings, akin to a i ■■■■ •■■■■ .s i •■.agerv. I iiesc travelogues b< ' ' !!l h’lin than exhibits like the in "irl: cai Indians performing nativ ''ss Pinind. In contrast to Wilkins’s i �i A more artists either joined the various geological surveys or mm. , , , shrinking "ilderness Albert B.erstadtand Thomas Moran stun U,' 'e'r *w" r“ravs into the sheer metric and aesthetic extravagance of their work. Coming “' gmup f.)r thc ,ut.stic exploration in the American frontier, these two men assi.niI-r . Cnd <,fa of conception of wilderness landscape and orchestrated into their person 1' *-tUal1- evcr>' previous most likely to transform reality into myth, without obliterating rhe renli v'r'T th°Se cl‘-’™ents provided the dominant models. Bierstadt and Moran sought to cmn.r. d e and (;lll‘rch had on vast canvases tilled with an astonishing variety of topographical and 1W lmmcnsity of nature Their canvases frequently stretched ten feet and more across an Pr'coroloSical features, spotlighted his grandiloquent views within darkened proscenia ro’reinf er^adc occasionally spectator. As Patricia Trenton and Peter Hassrick have pointedJ outZ *mpaCt °n the ™is“Pi,'S *“ 'he g“Sa"n“n VUlS“ity °f ,hc ‘j Theyalso. however, echoed rhe more highmindedexpressio„s„faesth«ici.„s like W,„ Ruskm. whose essay on mountain beauty was a veritable recipe for their effects (l/,7 D • partV. 1856). Just as Church and Cole had adopted various heroic conventions of EureS landscape painting Bierstadt and Moran assembled stock compositions and effects Z became virtua cliches m their work. Bierstadt, a native German, was especially influenced by rhe then popular Dusseldorf School, and his Rocky Mountains sometimes appear more Alpine than American. Verisimilitude existed in details, but the whole was a fiction based on manv different places and effects of atmosphere. The “truth” of the whole lav in its overall sensation of grandeur and magic, which a traveler through the mountains might experience either cumulatively or at some chance moment of perfection. Moran said that while he “desired to tell truly of Nature, [he] did not wish to realize the scene literally, but to preserve and to convey its true impression." Underlying these justifications, of course, there were still the allegorical concerns of time and Creation which had preoccupied Cole. Moran’s small study of Tower Falls, Yellowstone cat. no. 25), while more documentary’ than his larger pastiches, nevertheless achieves an effect uf primordial sublimity. (Images such as these played their part in the establishment of the national parks and the preservation movement later in the century’.) The ancient landscape was not always defined in terms of great peaks and valleys. More often, in fact, a less rugged terrain characterized Eden and Arcadia. Leo Marx has differentiated the “primitive” landscape and the “pastoral” one. Most Arcadian scenes in the Claude Lorrain tradition suggest a primitive landscape only in remote mountainous backgrounds, while the nearer stages show a more gentle pastoral environment. Bierstadt’s On the Oregon Trail (cat. no. 3, p. 43; a copy of a larger work) alters this formula slightly by juxtaposing pastoral and primitive on the left and right, rather than front and back. This picture also gives man a greater role than is usual in Bierstadt syork. ere he combines past and present — geological creation and historical progress - in his sv eeping middleground, and allows the radiant sunset beyond to augur the golden uture. ere painted L-. James E. Wilkins some twenty years earlier (cat. no. 35, p. • Wilkins putting together a “moving panorama” of the Overland Trail during the Gold Rt sh VS i ^eled along the trail and saw its wilderness scenery in a more virgin sta‘e But he sought to capture the drama and magnitude of the Roc ties in Pntial prescn- ut bh; fora descriptive entertainment. (“Moving panoramas canvases of 1 ’ions of individual paintings, akin to a modern slide show, or CSL ,)nj werc more ' ontinuoir, imagery. I hese travelogues became very popu ar at nut . • .j U[1 (lis •’arnatic in form than exhibits like the Indian galleries, alt longi .“ ;)|S() |iai| public U'Hery with real Indians performing native dances.) Bierstadt, 1 , .’ecm overblown r'-T'.nsv, in mind. 1„ contrast to Wilkins’s reserved scene, his ostial epu ma ■ 3l> �today, but one cannot deny his canny showmanship or the ingenuity with which he struck so many conceptual and visceral chords relating to nature, nationalism, and divinity. The pastoral mode of wilderness painting ripened as the wilderness itself became less Sqi|ltOliS Md 'tS s,ol!tude ™ore alluring. The Hudson River painters and then the Luminists s™ e«ffy SaV°recd t o and S'lent m°0ds of nature- Worthington Whittredge was one of (his friendsPTriRSirf the Huds°n ^lver Sch°o1 who toured the far West in the 1860s and 1870s had soem rlnF;KenSet7nd Gifford.were others). An accomplished landscapist who Bienstadt) Whirr^H stl1 and traveling in Europe (where he had shared a studio with Mexico in’l 866 H • ace<)mPanied General John Pope’s inspection tour of Colorado and New in part, bv Bicrsridf^ C t'\Om()re1friPswcs,:scveral years later. He may have been motivated, inspiration free fmn ^slona success with western themes, but he also sought fresh mountainous areas W1 ,DllSseldorf influence. While he journeyed into some remote There was “grandeur in rheh Un German friend, found his inspiration on the plains. Ihr 1‘lntlf (t;lt no .. orizontal as well as the perpendicular,” he said. CattlfGnizingMong this:,ri"n was toTirianPe- > l?UC°llc skcCches he did of the prairie. One wonders how near St>*i'’ritally,ofcolirse thevarc*” S- j ?U'no'“6)’ Pa>nted halfacenturyearlieralongthesamcriver, or tin. < !f]ji r (J|K. ;| qu’V()r' j. . lni csaP‘*rt, yet the later work by no means lacks sound reportage, Whittredge had bctmnr 'f'S.t|l,li't ■ ' rat*os kave °nly been reversed. 'juierudc replaced I hisseklorf 'i *L 'K ln^llence °l the French Barbizon School, whose rustic W'Blakelo.), «ho |)H ' lai"a'»lhc t; sics of the seventies. His younger compatriot 'Ui\c\ to a cluse, shared in this transition. Blakelock could •It) hardly be called an artist-explorer in the li He made the first of his two trips to th apparently broke no fresh trails. (Thom traveled in country which was still quite travelers, or "Romantic wanderers." as Ka tions were as much psychological or dra paintings, even at their most romantic and of which he had some direct know ledge. B relationship with Nature—dreams and rev nu- d, p. 42), probable done long after his t Arcadian w ilderness. Here nostalgia has si ' anished landscape and a vanished cull Blakclock's younger contemporaries. Frei this same approach.) Blakclock's introspJ dow n. He found an internal wilderness external ones. I �■iity sr ith w hicli he -rr_.ek ■ ^■m, and dis inits. ^ftildcmess itse!: ijccLi"'.e: ■ ters and then the Liimimsts ■gton \\ hittredge was one of K^cst in the IShUs and l.S7’i-> ■complished !andsc..pi-.r .vh'. He had shared a studio with H.m tourofColorado and ,\u-.r He may has e been mor? ate J. Bs. but he also sought fresh Burney ed into some remote Bn's inspiration on rhe plains. ■ he said. Catth. ■iric. One wonders how near ft earlieralong the same rh er. fticans lacks sound reportage, len reversed. arbizon School. " hose rustic is. His younger compatriot transition. Blakelock could & •ft a *z ‘ '* r - dr ftT ” 35 He made rhe first ^ist-cxplorer of hU tP ■ ln tfle literal “T Sense that has been adopted for this exhibition, trips cto“ the West ijln 1869, three years after Whittredge, and apparently broke no fr t. two W0. tnps traveled in connm- -k S’ •(Thomas -Moran didn’t reach the West until 1871, but he rra’elers, or “kr . "• "aS St'H 9l|ite wild.) Blakelock represents a new breed of artistt’ons ver<- a- Jmannc "ar>derers, as Katherine Manthorne has called them, whose explorapaintings <-■ <-rmiJC,1 P^'^hological or dramalurgical as they were geographical. Bierstadt’s 'J‘ b li'-1,3,j tneir most romantic and imaginary, were still primarily about the wilderness, jjj.. , • d)rcct knowledge. Blakelock’s seem to have been more about his personal 4. p _p Jt.’ at,lre drcams and reveries rather than particular places. ]A'isLtindscape(cn. Acadian ’ done lf,n£ after his trips, imagines a bucolic Indian camp nestled into an ‘Wished h ' ' p-rc nostalgia has supplanted reality and allegory alike — nostalgia fora j n 'ap< an^ a vanished culture, but without ideology. (In their own ways, r,li's’am, ..‘-^temporaries, 1'rederic Remington and Charles Russell, represented douri jj pp,,,a‘-"-) Blakelock’s introspection ultimately ended in complete mental bieakn. 1 'r'-rn:d (in'/111" Ul i|ir(ttial wilderness which Romantics had sought as passionately as 41 �I ! II i: I In the beginning, the artist-explorer hud been more explorer than artist, and he had given precedence to documentary values o\ er artistic ones. As the wilderness and its inhabitants gained favor as a source of aesthetic and iconographic contemplation in the nineteenth century, artists of greater accomplishment had been draw n to visit them, anil artistic values came to rival and exceed the documentary ones. Men such as Pcale, Catlin, and Eastman were naturalists, ra tsmen, or topographers as much as they were “fine artists," but after them, artist-explorers ',° °ne k'n(^’ but not the other. 1 opographic specialists (w ho are not included in rnHpdrt 1-tlOn "eresou£htbx most ofthe later surveying expeditions, and most of them soon h HastonZenrf™eras- Photography invaded the fine and popular arts, as well, toward sketches ancTrh -1C B'erstadt> (or example, frequently used photographs in place of stereoscopic views. PAs\h7eraof NorthV"11*^5 C°l'ld bC ChcaP’'' William H Iwkcnn i r- . J.' . z^nlerican exploration rode to its end, cameramen like Painters such as BiersTad/wh" ^,ns Provide exact descriptions of the last frontiers, ittredge and Blakelock no longer had obligations of that kind. William H. Sterling, Ph.D. Associate Professor of Art ilkes L niversitv 42 i �■ than artist, and he had ■mess and its inhabitants the nineteenth century, istic values came to rival i.stman were naturalists, er them, artist-explorers (w ho are not ineluded in ,. and most of them soon ular arts, as well, toward I photographs in place of Id be cheaply fed with its end. cameramen like ions of the last frontiers, bligations of that kind. - - - �'x'" ' 5 / 44 45 �i ft <4 I - / 46 47 ���biographical notes JOHN JAMES AUDUBON (1785-1851) Born in Haiti to a French father and a Creole mother. Audubon was edu.-m-d • r with Jacques Louis David. In 1803, he returned to his father's estate in Mill G pC,: and btud>ed briefly collecting and drawing wildlife. After several business failures in Kentucky he moye^in i«rfs"'3' Md be«Jn devote himself to natural history painting. His monumental corpus on \„r'th • .'“t. "' Oceans to 1826 and 1838, entailed extensive field work throughout the East and Midnest. In 184? h'^’ P“bllshed bet"ecn mammals, which took him as far as the Yellowstone River. Audubon's artistry and oer's'nnsl|T" ls""llar,1PU'<'n fame both here and abroad. His innovative portrayal of specimens as “alive and movina" magnitude of his projects, established him as America's foremost artist-naturalist. ’ '"C WILLIAM BARTRAM (1739-1823) Bartram was born in Kingsessing. near Philadelphia, where his father was an eminent botanical gardener His early drawings attracted the attention of European naturalists, and he and his father were commissioned to collect specimens in Florida. In the 1770s, he took a more extensive field trip throughout the southeast, reaching as far as the Mississippi. After 1777, he managed the family gardens and never made another long exploration. Hi" book of Travels (1791), based on the earlier tours, was a popular work. His naturalist drawings were typical of the genre in the eighteenth century', and, like Audubon, he almost never departed from his specialty. ALBERT BIERSTADT (1830-1902) In 1832, Bierstadc’s family moved to Massachusetts from his native Solingen in Germany. He may hare been mostly self-taught as an artist. In 1853, he went to Dusseldorf to polish his skills, but did not enterthe academy. He shared a studio there with Worthington Whittridge, did much outdoor sketching, and traveled extensively in Germany and Italy. Returning to America in 1857. he joined Colonel Frederick Lander’s survey expedition intn the Wind River Mountains, and returned to New York City to begin his large canvases of the West. Popular and critical acclaim followed soon after. Bierstadt made many more trips west between 1863 and 1889. He was an effective promoter of his work and achieved great wealth at the height of his success. I lis later work became harder in style, formulaic, and less fashionable. His career declined rapidly in the 1880s. and he died in much reduced circumstance'. RALPH ALBERT BLAKELOCK (1847-1919) Blakelock was born in New York City, and ga\ e up medical studies to become an artist. He was mostly taught, experimentive with media (which led to the darkening of many of his painting'), and neurotic in He toured the West in 1869 and 1871, and used his impressions later on to create ev ocativ c. often v w narv. ... c 1 of a highly personal kind. His style was influenced by the French Barhizon painter-., but ii' M jn approach was closer to the newer Symbolists. Critical reaction was mixed, anil his urea >u ut ' J" i te''while incurable mental breakdown in 1899. Soon after, his work gained fresh and posmve notice, bur ' ■ ■ ■ he lay dying in a sanatorium, forgers were already at work copy ing his sty le to meet t w nev KARL BODMER (1809-1893) ()j Bodmer was born near Zurich and studied w ith his uncle. Johann Meyer, as wsu significant part opening a studio in Koblenz, Germane, he met Prince Maximilian of lul •l,‘l tlu ,7. j_ pjrjSi where he worked of his long career. In 1834. after his American expedition with the Prince. . is!,-t..,mmunity nfBarbizon or four years on the engiav ings made from his field sketches. In 1849. k mm ja 1 .n;t,n in ]lte and settled into a moderately successful career. 1 le turned to magazine am .1 FREDERICK C.VFHERWOODll^ Cathcrwood studied architecture ami exhibited watercolor'in •‘"Ks expedition to Egypt, Palestine, ami Arabia in 1831. He met the Ar Mh- and they made their first trip to Central America three years larer. . inning Robert iei,logist John 1 ■ 8-P ,,ude three nwre fournvv �South and Central America anti to California by way of rhe Pacific Coast. I n between these excursions he • time in New York City working on the publication of his field work. In 1854, returning to New York aft .Spent 'fluch home to England, he was lost at sea with the steamship Antic. Like Bodmer. Cathcrwood achiever'P back significance by mating his estimable artistic sensitivity to an extraordinary subject. ‘ cd historical •( ALFRED JACOB MILLER no Miller was born in Baltimore. There is conjecture I K(1810-1874) (ls10-187< In 1833, he visited Europe, taking courses at rhe Ecole des Re? "°levid'-'nce. that he st,, r , GEORGE CATLIN (1796-1872) Catlin was born in Wilkes-Barre. Pennsylvania, and spent much of bis childhood in Broo York. He opened a law practice in Montrose, Pennsylvania, bur soon gave it up for an art cir ■ °llncY> New Philadelphia in 18’1. Experiencing only modestsucccssasa mostly self-taught portraitist, Catlin det"^0'’ m°vin8 to his name asa painter of the Indians. His four expeditions between 1830 and 1836 covered vast stretch ™lncd torr>ake In 1837. he opened his touring "Indian Gallery" in New York, to public and critical acclaim H ■ ■ '.CS °. e Prairie. greater success in London (1840) and Paris (1845). Expenses exceeded revenues, however an jC^pdr.lence‘i even ultimately brought bankruptcy. Partly toescape creditors, he trav eled through South America an ? i Invcstrr>ents to California between 1852 and 1859. Catlin had dreamed of selling the entire Indian Galler ■ ” I lcPac'fic coast instead, he lost it in the bankruptcy. From 1860 to 1870. he lived in Brussels, trying to reconstruct’th° Cl ,gOVernment; his peripatetic ways. Catlin was an exceptionally prolific artist who also found time to publish ■ ° , , D’- Despite travels. 1 ° 1 scvcral books on his s "wk, and it was rd[e|y Like Thomas Cole beforehim.Moran moved vv^hh^faInn3f’l9^6) in 1844. and 'Thomas became an apprentice wood engraver' [ft 7 .■ancashi“-'- Thcv settled in Phi . , exhibitionsand traveled to England, in 1861, rosceTurners voA If frc‘l“cnted the Pen XJhPhi^ year, and some critics called him the "Turner of the West." FREDERIC EDWIN CHURCH (1826-1900) A native of Hartford. Church studied with Thomas Cole, who influenced him considerably. By his mid­ twenties. Church was already a successful New York artist, regarded by many as the successor of Cole, who had died in 1848. In his search for inspiring landscapes, he began to travel extensively through eastern North America. His work became less allegorical and more concerned with light and topography. He made his first trip to South America in 1853. He later traveled to Labrador. Europe, the Middle East, and Mexico. His taste for the exotic is seen in his villa, Olana. overlooking the Hudson River, as well as in his paintings. After the mid-sixties, his work often became excessively melodramatic, but he retained his reputation as one of America's greatest landscapists. < THOMAS COLE (1801-1848) Cole and his family immigrated from Lancashire in 1818. They settled eventually in Steubenville, Ohio, where Thomas designed patterns for his father’s wallpaper factory' and learned the rudiments of portraiture from an itinerant painter. In 1823. he began his serious career as an artist in Philadelphia, then moved on to New York City, determined to bea landscapist, up to that timea less popular special ty in American art. His style ofgrandeur and drama changed that, and his ascent in the art world was rapid. After a three year trip to Europe, he turned increasingly to allegorical landscapes, such as his series, The Course ofEmpire. In 1836, he settled in Catskill, New York, closer to the mounciins he loved. 7 1 dCa',yonofl,,eYdlos:sll>lllAl.M^^ TITIAN RAMSAY PEALE, II (1799 irrsv Titian was the sixteenth of seventeen children born to the e ' . m. Charles Willson Peale, (his namesake brother, 'Titian I, died the year before his bird'\d'’i''-’?a paintM and naturalist, established himself as an artist; and grow ing up in his father's natural history m„s,'‘ ™ny °f his siblinRS he He studied anatomy and entomology, was an avid hunter and collector and 1,..^ ’ bccamca naturalist as well, in the pathbreaking Long Expedition in 1821 ensured his place in history I Ik'"'V ™ C?ipert t,Lxi‘Lrmisr. His pan and around the world (rhe Wilkes Expedition) took him away from the eurito^ldn '^S'’U'h Am,:riw bankruptcy forced its closure m 1842. 'Titian became an examiner for the I■ S Parent (lift /TV musci"n' and candidacy to become first curator of the Smithsonian Museum ‘mice alter his unsuccessful PETER RINDISBAGHER (1806-1834) his family answered I ordThomas Dimgh^llfi,^ provincial success as a painter prompted him to seek wider notice in Sr. Louis, where he opened a studioin 1829. His untimely death from unknovy n causes at the age of twenty eight cut short that quest. Whatever future he might have nad, no one can dispute his importance as the first comprehensive painter of Indian life on the frontier. THOMAS DAVIES (ca. 1737-1812) Davies was a British army officer who served in North America from 1759 to 1790. Having studied drawing and painting as a cadet, possibly under the eminent watercolorist Paul Sandby, he was often assigned to do topographical studies. In 1760, he explored the Lake Ontario region, and about 1768, he published six views of American waterfalls. Although he was a professional soldier, Davies enjoyed considerable respect both as an artist and a naturalise After his retirement from the service, at the rank of lieutenant general, he continued to paint and to exhibit at the Royal Academy. He is best remembered today, however, for his carlv documentation ofthe Canadian wilderness. SAMUEL SEYMOUR (fl. 1797-1823) Biographical information ----;n on Seymour is scant. I Ic w as probably born in England, but was working as an engraver in Philadelphia by 1808. After a seemingly modest early career, he was selected for the Long Expedition in 1819. In 1822. Seymour’s name no longer appears in the Philadelphia census, although he was reportedly seen in New York City by an the following year. There is speculation that he returned to Englandand may have dropped out of the "acquaintance . ___ ic art profession. Seymour's existence in recorded history is thus predicated almost entirely on his brief role as an artist-explorer. SETH EASTMAN (1808-1875) assigned to Fon Crawford f™m Wesc Point in 1829 and made the army his career. He was first administrative stints in Washington *7?d Minnesota, Florida, and Texas, in addition to time he studied painting with rhe II,, i " D.c 3 so (au?ht drawing at West Point between 1833 and 1840, at which in 1848, when he wasin Washington Rl''crartlst R°bert Weir. His Indian paintings began to attract attention he spent the most time on the frontier Th' ° ls career involved the American Indian, and, of all the Indian painters, culture. Is exPenence added weight to his reputation as a faithful recorder of Indian Heriot„Jsami|j[an, ” 6 JOHN MIX STANLEY (1814-18/2) Born in Canandaigua. New YorkyStanleybeganhiscareerasasigji^MmtcriH^.^H^^^^ j [^jedto incorner. 1834. he<• settled Where he took lessons from a local portraitist- R\c?Rni f nv ir-pS to. all t e in DctmitWisconsin in 1839 to make on-the-spot sketches I h.s was both a tounng Ind..anC^ as Hawaii. Ambitious and energetic, like his predecessor jic also tried, invain.ro w a moving panorama, Stanley's Western Wilds or. the Indian andHt. (. •'.[ the government. In 1864,'he ended his traveling and returned GEORGE HERIOT (1766-1844) e'?nmalftbL??" England " ith Paul 'sanX^iiT^ torra'e|'l A "mnRP-isrmasrcr-generaloftheNmrl V ' ° woRTHixtmiN wnrrrK®® Born in Scotland, he had t0 Canada "hcr‘ he joined the postal service, Born in Springfield. Ohio, he began America aS a landw^t and ' olume w as\ " L|' a J°UI dle tcrritories. A mani of wid,'.rnerlcan ‘-"Ionics. This position afforded him an opportunity Britain in ISl/'T? e'Cd' ,h,)_E and published an ill,,eriot began amultivolumc//Zr/ozy<y'fi77Wr//7(<>ne 1SI6’ but cont|nued to travel, paint anj ' ,C "t his style contrasted markedly with the mure tram aoy-i Moran, and proved durable throughout his long career. 52 1 ........ 5.5 �JAMES b. " Academy. In 1844, he settled in St. Louis. The ,n [.-rwlishm-m. Wilkins «ud,^’"Xke a sketching tour of the Overland Trail via wagon train, in r i? Rush inspired him. in 1^4 ». to nu d in 1850, was a great success, and he continued to do ^SoXamoting P" dijrv uas also a valuable document of life on the Trail, fjgin-.rx landscapes based on ■ > BIBLIOGRAPHIC NOTE i In the preparation of this exhibition, rhe follow ing sources were of particular value and are recommended mrtunhc^eadmg.^ i. wi||iam H Gcrdts- nlasshc Art Across America (New York, 1990), which includes rnanv Ifale-knmvn artists. A brief, but useful, earlier survey is J. 1 Flexner’s Nineteenth Century America,, York, 1970). For biographical material on the artists, the standard biographical reference books and individual monographs were consulted. On the earliest artist-explorers. Hugh Honour s lac A<y Golden Land:European Images ofAmerica from the DiseoCerierthtxPKSe.r'Tin.viLondun. 19761 offers much fascinating material. Of similar value is Edward J. Nygren’s i:j.' •../lac r..- .k.-..4.w.. Landscape before AWtWashington. D.C., 1986). E. P. Richardson's general history, Pmr.tingin .l^nnziNew York. 19561, contains a chapter on early artist-explorers. On the themes of the American Indian and the vv estern frontier, there is an extensive literature. Providing broadcov erage vv ith some controv ersial interpretations is William H. T ruettner (ed.), The West as America: Reinterpretinglr:szs'f&F.-j-dir. !8N-ZP-V(Washington. D C.. 1991). Less broad, but equally revisionist, are the essays in Dis.’,-.ndiat:ds. lmter.t,d Pasts: TramfcmingVisimis ofth, American IJ«/(New Haven, 1992) by Jules David Prown, Nancy K. Anderson. William Cronon. Brian W. Dippie. Martha A. Sandweiss. Susan Prendergast Sehoelwer, and Howard R. Lamar. An earlier set of interesting essay s appears in John F. A IcDermotr (ed.), The Frontier Re-Examined (L'rbana. 1967). Patricia Trenton and Peter Hassrick’s TheRorhy Mountains: .1 Visionfor Artists in the Nineteenth Century (Norman. Oklahoma. 1955(provides extensive material on lesser-known as well as major artists in the far West. Two useful catalogues of narrower focus, from the Joslyn .An Museum's Center for Western Studies, are William II. Goetzmant’and JosephC Porter's Th, Westas RomanticHorizon [Omaha, 1981), with emphasis on Bodmer and Miller, and John C. Ev.crs.etjJ, Viczsofa Vanishing FnjmicrtOmaMi, 1984), centering on Bodmer. William H. Truettner’s, T: Natural Mir Of.:- r.\d: .1 Study MCatlin's Indian Gallery (Washington, D.C., 1979) is the definitive work on its subject. F...r a fascinating account of the saga surrounding the Indian collections of Catlin, Eastman, and Stanley, sec Brian W. Dippie's CatTm and H.is Cunt, ,,:[•■ raries: Th, Politics of Patronage (Lincoln. Nebraska, 1990). _ On North Americans in South .America, essential information appears in Katherine Emma Manthorne’s N_.nh Anu titan Artists ExploringLatin Amirica, 1839-1879 (Washington, D.C., 1989) and Dawn Ades -zAc Art in Latin Armrica: The Modem Era. 183.' - /WlNew Haven, 1989). Br. ader. more philosophical discussions of die themes of nature and landscape mav be found in Barbara Nmak >m::,r.ar.dC,dmr,:AK,riw^^ Boime's 77/rMagisterial G^vAAashingrcn. D.C.. 199D. and Roderick Nash's Wild,mess and rhe American Mind (N, ew Haven, 1967). , Among theu hangs by the ani>ts themselves or their associates, several are of particular interest: George ( ’? u''7‘f Lu.'tom:. and Condition ofthe North American Indians (London, 1841); Thomas \, Stencr-~ (1835.. in John McCuubrcy WA American Art. 1700- 1960(E^\c^A Cliffs, John James Audubon (1785-1851) Towhe Bunting; Fringilla Erythmphthalma Linn.. Blu.kberrv R„h„ t •/, Hand cohired lithograph. 27 1/2 x 20 inches 1 The C. B. Reif Collection of Natural 1 listory Prints. A\ ilkes I 'niversily n-4 2. William Bartram (1739-1823) Canna Indica, lab. VHI (Elements), 1784 Ink on paper, 21.0 cm x 26.9 cm (8 1/4 x 10 1/2 inches) American Philosophical Society 3. Albert Bierstadt (1830-1902) The Oregon Trail. 1869 Oil on canvas, 31 x 49 inches The Butler Institute of American Art. \ oungstown, Ohio 4. Ralph Albert Blakclock (1847-1919) Landscape, n.d. Oil on canvas, 16 x 24 inches Collection of Heckschcr Museum, Huntington, Neu York. August Heckscher Collection. 'i 1 5. 6. Karl Bodmer (1809-1893) Assiniboin .Medicine Sign, 1833 Watercolor on paper, 9 5/8 x 12 1/4 inches Joslyn Art Museum, Omaha, Nebraska. Gift of the Em iron Art Foundation. Karl Bodmer (1809-1893) Rock Formations on the I pper Missouri, 1833 Watercolor on paper, 7 7/8 x 12 3/8 inches Joslyn Art Museum, Omaha, Nebraska. Gift of the Enron Art Foundation. 7. Karl Bodmer (1809-1893) Ilidatsa Buffalo Robe, e. 1840 Watercolor on paper, 14x17 5/8 inches Joslyn Art Museum, Omaha, Nebraska, Gift of the Enron Art Foundation. 8. Karl Bodmer (1809-1893) Forest on the Lehigh, n.d. Hand-colored lithograph, 13 1/2 x 17 1/2 inches Imp. de Bougeard, Grave par Salathe . . Gilbert McClintock Collection, Eugene Shedden Farley Library, Wilkes I nnersity 9. Karl Bodmer (1809-1893) Tombeaux des Indians Sioux, n.d. Lithograph, 8 1/4 x 6 1/4 inches Bartram'S 10. Hand-colored aquatint and line engraving. 21 .1 16 x 13 1 «L1ys Imp. de Bougeard. Se. Rend Rolkt: Published bv Ackerman <x '■ Bordoni Family Collection 11. , Frederick Catherwood (1799-1854) . "•7/ ar Bolonchen, 1884 (from an ink drawing done in 1 Colored lithograph, 377 mm x 277 mm <14 3'4 x 10 •. *nc i<ale 1 'niversily Art Gallery. Gift of Henry Schnackenberg. 54 55 �25. Thomas Moran (1837-1426.1 The Towers of Tower Falls. 1872 Watercolor on paper. 10 1/2 x 7 7/8 inch.-. The Thomas Gilcrease Institute nt Mmrimn Ilk-..-. anj •, 20. Titian Ramsay Peale 11799-1>S5> Indian breast work on the riser P;,.:ie > Watercolor on paper, 21.5 cm \ lti.4 h. 18211 American Philosophical Soviets 27. Titian Ramsay Peak- (1794-1885 Sandhill Cranes. March. 1.82(1 Watercolor on paper, 23.2 cm x 18.6, cm,,J 1^x7 1/4 inchw) American Philosophical Society 28. Titian Ramsay Peak-(1744-1885) Yellow headed Blackbird. May. 1820 Watercolor on paper. 22.6 cm x 18 7 cm (4\7 1/4 inches) American Philosophical Society Sordoni Family Collection 29. 16. Frederic Edwin Church (1826-19(1(1) In the Andes, 1878 Oil on canvas. 15 x 22 inches The Butler Institute of American Art, Youngstown, Ohio Ikler Rintiishadier < I -Silt,- 183 I> Sirne in an Indian lent. e. 1824-34 Watercolor on paper. 7 1/2 x 8 incites Courtesy ot the We ’ Point Museum, 1 S. Military Academy .West Point, Men \ork 30. 17. Thomas Cole (1801-1848) Adirondack Landscape, e. 1825-40 Oil on cam as, 20 x 30 inches Collection of E\erhart Museum Peter Rindish.n her (1806-1831 t Chippewa M'ideof hn ellinit m the Spline and Slimmer,?. 1830 Watercolor on p iper, f. 1/1 . It) inches Courtesy of the V-v’ Point Museum. I .S. Milium Xctidciny, West Point. New \<irk 31. Thomas Davies (c. 1737-1812) Niagara Falls from Bclozv. c. 1766 Watercolor on paper, 13 1/2 x 20 5/8 inches. The New York Historical Society, New York; Abbott and Foster-Jarvis funds, 1954, 1954.3 Peter Rindish.n I. . r ■' I Ml 1831) ('heppewci\-M I M de of I in: lime in the Winter, c. 1830 Watercolor on pape:r. 6 1/4' lOimhvs Courtesy of the We i Point Museum, I S. Military Academy, \\cM p,,)nb 32. 19. Seth Eastman (1808-1875) Indian Burial, 1847 Oil on canvas. 33 .\ 25 inches The Thomas Gilcrease Institute of American History and Art, Tulsa, Oklahoma Samuel Seymour <11. 1747-1823) Viewut the Baof the Rm L-ie.. c. 1820 _ W atercolor, ink. and pencil on paper. 5x7 7/8 inches The Rockwell Museum. • arming, New 'I ork 33. 20. George Heriot (1766-1844) Calumet Dance. 1799 Watercolor on paper, 8 3/8 x 13 inches The Art Gallery of W indsor collection. Purchased by special subscription and with the assistance of The Canada Council, 1967. John Mix Stanley (1814-1872) Snake Rr.er. Idaho and II ■ ■hinelon Oil on cant as, 36 1/2 x 54 inches ( amrtesy of Kennedy *ialleries, Inc.. New i ork 34. Worthington Whittred.c 1 1820-PHO) Cuttle Gr,i.u:e IMbc the Platte, 1871 Oil on cant as. 24 I 4 x 32 inches Museum ot Nebraska Art 35. James Wilkins (1808-1888) Cat ered llagroi-s in the Rockies, 1854 Oil on cans us. 22 x 30 inches . f rom the < atlkctiorts of the Missouri Historical Society 12. George Catlin (1796-1872) l/n/rf/z ofthe Platte River, WO Miles Above St. Loins, 1832 Oil on enn\ as, 11 1/4 x 14 1/2 inches National Museum of American Art. Smithsonian Institute. Gift of Mrs. Joseph Harrison, Jr. 13. 14. George Catlin (1796-1872) Com. A Miniconjou Warrior. 1832 Oil on canvas, 29 x 24 inches Smithsonian Institution, Gift of Mrs. Joseph Harrison, Jr. National Museum of American Art, George Catlin (1796-1872) W ounded Buffalo Bull Surrounded by White Wolves, n.d. Hand-colored lithograph.il 1/4 x 17 1/4 inches Sordoni Art Gallery, W ilkes University, Gift of Dr. and Mrs. Robert L. Mayock and W. Graham Arader, Ill 15. 18. 21. 56 George Catlin (1796-1872) Buffalo Hunt, Cnderthe White WolfSkin . 1832-33 Hand-colored lithograph, 12 3/16 x 17 9/16 inches Catlin del.; on Slone by Mc( rahey: Day & Haghu lith. to the Queen George Heriot (1766-1844) Ceremonial Scalp Dance . c. 1804-05 W atercolor on paper. 8 1/4 x 12 3/4 inches The Art Gallery of W indsor collection. Purchased by special subscription and with the assistance of The Canada Council. 1967. 22. Alfred Jacob Miller (1810-1874) Pursuit of a Grisly [sicl Hear in the Black Hills Near Fort Larriniier [sic], n.d. Ink sepia with pencil on paper, 7 3/4 x 7 1/8 inches University of Nebraska - Lincoln. Sheldon Memorial Art Gallery. Gift of Olga N. Sheldon. 1973. 1 -3295. 23. Alfred Jacob Miller (1810-1874) Pursuit. 1837 Wash, ink and Chinese sxhite on paper, 17 1/4 x 22 inches Tire Rockwell Museum. Coming. Nets York 24. Alfred Jacob Miller (1810-1874) War-Ground, 1837 Wash. ink. and Chinese white on paper. 14 5/8 x 18 3/4 inches The Rockwell Museum, Corning, New York Photo credits: Curtis Salonick: 1, 8, 9, 10, 14. 15 Saltmarche, Toronto: 20,21 James O. Milmoe. 1991: 23, 24,32 . (||| ( VJineh Wk ��IMM lOOOlflS^20 HUKES COLLEGE LIBRARY �� Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Exhibition Programs, 1973-present Description An account of the resource Exhibition programs created by the Sordoni Art Gallery from 1973 to the present. Digitized by Wilkes University Archives interns, Zachary Mendoza and Sophia Kruspha. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Wilkes University Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Sordoni Art Gallery Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1973-present Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Wilkes University retains copyright of these exhibition programs. Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource Exhibition programs, flyers, and calendars. 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Title A name given to the resource 1992 October 11 Virgin Landscapes, Native Cultures: The Artist Explorer in North America Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource John James Audubon William Bartram Albert Bierstadt Ralph Albert Blakelock KarlBodmer Frederick Catherwood GeorgeCatlin FredericEdwin Church Thomas Cole Thomas Davies Seth Eastman George Heriot Alfred JacobMiller Thomas Morgan TitianRamsa yPealeII Peter Rindisbacher Samuel Seymour John Mix Stanley Worthington Whittredge James F. Wilkins Dr. William H.Sterling Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1992 October 11 - November 29 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Description An account of the resource This exhibition surveys the era during which the pictorial exploration of North America evolved from the reportorial to the expressive. Type The nature or genre of the resource N/A Subject The topic of the resource America North America landscape explorer artist Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource SAG https://omeka.wilkes.edu/omeka/files/original/f1b107492f3504e4aad9a295bd0d7296.pdf bdde710a09be902a0869137eccff227f PDF Text Text �� Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Exhibition Programs, 1973-present Description An account of the resource Exhibition programs created by the Sordoni Art Gallery from 1973 to the present. Digitized by Wilkes University Archives interns, Zachary Mendoza and Sophia Kruspha. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Wilkes University Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Sordoni Art Gallery Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1973-present Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Wilkes University retains copyright of these exhibition programs. Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource Exhibition programs, flyers, and calendars. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 1992 December 7 Echos of Africa Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Inge Markarian Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1992 December 7 - 1993 January 10 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Type The nature or genre of the resource N/A Subject The topic of the resource N/A https://omeka.wilkes.edu/omeka/files/original/2ede6481952592de9f825f5de5b4c50e.pdf 5b227c51e9bde2d4bcadb0d980f3d8b8 PDF Text Text �� https://omeka.wilkes.edu/omeka/files/original/956cf91bcb5010e6dc75a4cfe0724fc6.pdf c0854e3e30702f8f261847f58b8ef9f0 PDF Text Text I I.K! Mb II It i d ■i <! SORD GA N5030 R8S37 �E.S. FARLEY L IBRARY WILKES UNIVERSITY WILKES-BARRE, PA THE FARNSWORTH ART MUSEUM Rockland, Maine �I g 8 AF The July Bergei Septem W jan Copyright © 1992 The Farnsworth Art Museum All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages. ISBN: 0-918749-03-4 Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 92-70664 Published by The Farnsworth Art Museum, Rockland. Maine. Printed in the United States of America. Major f baj been pro* �Kan£Sdvtag_ In memory of Paul A Retrospective Exhibition organized by Suzette Lane McAvoy for The Farnsworth Art Museum Rockland, Maine July 11 - September 13, 1992 in cooperation with Bergen Museum of Art & Science Paramus, New Jersey September 22 - November 15, 1992 and Sordoni Art Gallery Wilkes University Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania January 17 - March 7, 1993 e mechanical ral publisher, iges, 70664 kland. Maine. Major funding for the exhibition and catalog has been provided by the Richard A. Florsheim Art Fund. J 0“ _ I. ,. o �acknowledgments Mrs. Ruth W B Potter. Ms. Judith Pitt. Mr. and Mrs Sidney Sass. Mr. and Schrag. Mr. and Mrs Raymond V J Schrag. Mr. JePrey Stark. Mrs Max M Wangh and SkyTell Corporation Karl Schrag is represented m most major m the United States as well as Europe We are indebted to the Brooklyn Museu Art. the Metropolitan Museum of Art. the Museum of Modem Art. the Nation Whitney Museum of Amer,can Art for lending several key works to the exhib Guggenheim Museum. New York, for permission to reproduce Boe Arches. Jc collection. Carole Pesner and Katherine Kaplan, of Kraushaar Galleries Ne ways from the very outset. The mutual loyalty and respect between Kraushaa Kraushaar has been his primary dealer for forty-five years— is probably a rec today’s volatile art world. Ci orn in in 1912 1912 in in Germany Germany and and immigrating immigrating to the United States in 1938, Karl Schrag has witnessed the U central moments of twentieth century art on both sides of the Atlantic. His esthetic roots can be traced to the great European expressionists of the preceding generation—Marc, Kirchner, Derain, Matisse— as well as to such American visionaries as Blakelock, Ryder, Hartley and Burchfield. Continuing and extending this legacy, Karl Schrag has produced a compelling body of work combining sonorous color, charged compositional schema and technical mastery. While long admired and respected by critics, curators, collectors and fellow artists, Schrag’s independence and stylistic remove from post-World War II movements and trends in American art have kept his work partly hidden from wider public recognition, something we hope this exhibition will begin to redress. In the self-portraits, from youth to the present, in the recurring wide-eyed stare and slightly arched eyebrows, there is a sense of fearless confrontation and, I also extend our sincere appreciation to Lucien Goldschmidt and Paui Schra catalog. Carol Inouye's elegant design for the catalog is an essent-al ccntnrx Farnsworth registrar, Edith Murphy, orchestrated the complex logistics o insurance, and with the able assistance of preparator. Phil Kaelin, managed details that are largely invisible but always critical to any project of this r Museum staff pulled together to make this exhibition possible and i deeply app Above all, we thank Karl and Use Schrag Use has been Karl s longtime con constant source of inspiration They are living testimony to the agelessness of | perhaps, bemusement with changes wrought by time. That these changes are external rather than internal, Christopher B Crosman Director of surface rather than substance, is something Schrag well knows. From his studio on Deer Isle, Maine, The Farnsworth Art Museum where he has summered for nearly forty years, the artist continues to look inward into himself and into the primal rhythms of a particular place that holds infinite variety and inspiration. In an interview several years ago, Schrag cited Andre Malraux: "...what appears in the background in youth comes to the fore in old age." This exhibition marks Schrag’s eightieth year and an old age where it is youth that comes to the fore. To summarize a career of such majestic proportions—in its breadth and depth—is an ambitious undertaking for a small museum. We are grateful to many individuals and institutions for their support and cooperation. Curator Suzette Lane McAvoy conceived and organized the exhibition, including the production of the accompanying catalog, a truly heroic individual effort and an obvious labor of love. I also thank Carl Little, poet and critic now living in Maine, for his penetrating and sensitive essay, revealing new insights into the artist and his work. One of the important goals of this project was to share it with a wider audience. We are especially pleased and grateful to Dr. judith O’Toole, director of the Sordoni Art Gallery, Wilkes University, Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, and Mr. David Messer, director of the Bergen Museum of Art and Science, Paramus, New Jersey, for enabling us to share the exhibition with their communities. Funding for the exhibition was provided by a generous grant from the Richard A. Florsheim Art Fund, and I am grateful for their early and enthusiastic support. not have tak/n phce-S c°operat'°n V "umerous private and institutional lenders, the exhibition could Mr,. Robert Cothran., Mr. and Mr,. Lotten Gold.thmidt. Or. and Mr,. Johan H,ma» �Mrs. Ruth W. B. Potter, Ms. Judith Pitt, Mr. and Mrs. Sidney Sass, Mr. and Mrs. Fred Schrag, Dr. Peter Schrag, Mr. and Mrs. Raymond V. J. Schrag, Mr. Jeffrey Stark, Mrs. Max M. Stern, Ms. Katherine SchragWangh and SkyTell Corporation. Karl Schrag is represented in most major museum collections throughout the United States as well as Europe. We are indebted to the Brooklyn Museum, Colby College Museum of Art, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Museum of Modern Art, the National Academy of Design and the Whitney Museum of American Art for lending several key works to the exhibition. I also want to thank the Guggenheim Museum, New York, for permission to reproduce Blue Arches, Jamaica I, from their permanent collection. Carole Pesner and Katherine Kaplan, of Kraushaar Galleries, New York, assisted in countless ways from the very outset. The mutual loyalty and respect between Kraushaar Galleries and Karl Schrag— Kraushaar has been his primary dealer for forty-five years—is probably a record and nearly unthinkable in today's volatile art world. I also extend our sincere appreciation to Lucien Goldschmidt and Paul Schrag for their assistance with the 138, Karl Schrag has witnessed the catalog. Carol Inouye's elegant design for the catalog is an essential contribution deserving special thanks. Farnsworth registrar, Edith Murphy, orchestrated the complex logistics of loans, travel arrangements, Atlantic. His esthetic roots can be Marc, Kirchner, Derain, Matisse— and Burchfield. Continuing and work combining sonorous color, - insurance, and with the able assistance of preparator, Phil Kaelin, managed the myriad behind-the-scenes derails that are largely invisible but always critical to any project of this magnitude. Indeed, the entire Museum staff pulled together to make this exhibition possible and I deeply appreciate their collective efforts. and respected by critics, curators, imove from post-World War II an from wider public recognition, tits, from youth to the present, in :nse of fearless confrontation and, are external rather than internal, a his studio on Deer Isle, Maine, k inward into himself and into the don. In an interview several years uth comes to the fore in old age.” ith that comes to the fore. epth—is an ambitious undertaking or their support and cooperation. , including the production of the ir of love. I also thank Carl Little, ly, revealing new insights into the are it with a wider audience. We the Sordoni Art Gallery, Wilkes if the Bergen Museum of Art and th their communities. Funding for sheim Art Fund, and I am grateful lal lenders, the exhibition could Bernkopf, Mr. and Mrs. Richard midt, Dr. and Mrs. Julian Hyman, Above all, we thank Karl and Use Schrag. Use has been Karl’s longtime companion, sometime model and constant source of inspiration. They are living testimony to the agelessness of great art and the human spirit. Christopher B. Crosman Director The Farnsworth Art Museum �KARL SCHRAG: A SEARCH FC <\ s Karl Schrag enters his 80th year we might feel that a career as an artist Here before us shines a choice retrosi drawn from over 70 years of creative activity We know this m landscape, his profound pursuit of personal and universal truths. Yet. at the end of each summer, the season's harvest at hand, > the individual who modestly sets out the canvases one by one Isle, on the coast of Maine, the visitor can expect to be shown ; tree, an island nightscape, but look: this year, the portrait of thi has a newly triumphant radiance, and a band of luminous colo has utterly transformed the moonlit land All bets are off: the world is invented anew, the self redefined and once again we follow Karl Schrag into territory he is jc beginning to explore. The road I have traveled stretches far back Mto the past. I have been painting and drawing since I was four years old. Ever since. I thought of myself as an artist. Everything I saw, aH thoughts and dreams were subjects to be drawn or painted Karl Schrag. Credo. 1990 If we cannot predict Karl Schrag's next esthetic mo«e. we c attempt to put in perspective his Me and achievement as an an up to now It won't be easy we're dealing with a mar who h for all intents and purposes, devoted b's entire Me to making a To go from a small linoleum cut. The Funeral, that he made 1926. at age 14. to. say. The Convos 1990 'xarp-ote p 65/ to make a long and prodigious artistic journey And when c considers that Part III of the Catclogue Roisonne of Schrag s g/ap work appeared two years ago. and that he nad h-s iSm oi person show at the Kraushaar Gal'enes m New York .'as: ye one begins to appreciate the artist's remarkable longevity < productivity. �KARL SC H RAG: A SEARCH FOR THE ESSENCE aLX s ^arl Schrag enters his 80th year, we might feel that a likely time has arrived for summing up his career as an artist. Here before us shines a choice retrospective of his life’s work, paintings and prints drawn from over 70 years of creative activity. We know this man, we tell ourselves, his love of nature and landscape, his profound pursuit of personal and universal truths. We can safely give an overview. Yet, at the end of each summer, the season’s harvest at hand, we must adjust our vision of the art, and of the individual who modestly sets out the canvases one by one. Seated in Karl Schrag’s barn studio on Deer Isle, on the coast of Maine, the visitor can expect to be shown a self-portrait, an homage to a favorite apple - tree, an island nightscape, but look: this year, the portrait of the artist shows a different man, the fruit tree has a newly triumphant radiance, and a band of luminous colors has utterly transformed the moonlit land. Facing page: The Ladder (Self-Portrait), oil on All bets are off: the world is invented anew, the self redefined — and once again we follow Karl Schrag into territory he is just canvas. 1969, collection of Jean and Raymond V. J. Schrag. Below: Funeral, linoleum cut. 1926, collection of the artist. beginning to explore. “The road I have traveled stretches far back into the past. I have been painting and drawing since I was four years old. Ever since, I thought of myself as an artist. Everything I saw, all thoughts and dreams, were subjects to be drawn or painted.” Karl Schrag, Credo, 1990 If we cannot predict Karl Schrag’s next esthetic move, we can attempt to put in perspective his life and achievement as an artist up to now. It won’t be easy: we're dealing with a man who has, for all intents and purposes, devoted his entire life to making art. To go from a small linoleum cut. The Funeral, that he made in 1926, at age 14, to, say, The Big Canvas, 1990 (colorplate p. 65), is to make a long and prodigious artistic journey. And when one considers that Part III of the Catalogue Raisonne of Schrag s graphic work appeared two years ago, and that he had his 18th oneperson show at the Kraushaar Galleries in New York last year, one begins to appreciate the artist's remarkable longevity and productivity. 7 �Yet study he did. Moving to Paris in 1932, he enrolled in the Ec< also found livelier instruction at the Academic Ranson (where proved an influential teacher) and the Academie de la Grande exhibition in 1938. at the Galerie Arenberg in Brussels. Belgium. An outstanding oil from the 1930s. The Pagans (1934), finds Schr commentary, a response, no doubt, to the growing unrest in his humanity — priest, doctor, et al. — has turned its back on the t cross were a reason to socialize. The indifference of mankm memorable manner When Paul and Karl decided to emigrate to America in 1938, d helpful in making their move a relatively smooth one While his graphics at the Art Students League, studying printmaking witl York paintings is rhe striking Madonna of the Subway. 1939, a serenity amidst the hurly-burly of the masses In his essay for the catalogue that accompanied Schrag s firs American Federation of Arts, it opened at the Brooklyn Mi Whitney Museum of American Art. notes how the artist's $[ itself in the early New York work The view of a highway tha Town. 1940, represents, for Gordon. "Nature beckoning to the edition of Robert Louis Stevenson's The Suicide Chib. 1941, sho» Hbllenfahrt ernes bosen Weibes (The Going to Hell of a Wicked Woman), pen and wash drawing, 1930. collection of the artist. The Pagans, oil on canvas, 1934. collection of Kathenne SchragWangh. Below Edge of the on canvas. 1940 col'ection of Ka0.tr Right. Illustration from The Su/ode Club by Robert Lo ur. Steve n$oi pub'-xi Beres. New fork. 1941 etching and aquatint Karl Schrag was born in Karlsruhe, Germany, in 1912, the youngest of four sons of Hugo and Bella (Sulzberger) Schrag, the latter American. His father, a highly respected lawyer who administered funds for the care of widows and orphans of the First World War, took the traditional skeptical stance toward his son’s choice of profession. “Why don’t you study law," Karl has quoted his father as saying, "and rnaybe you could be a judge in a small town and paint, because you would have a great deal of free time "• Hugo Schrag was finally convinced of his son’s gift when Karl’s brother Paul, devoted champion of his sibling’s artistic ambitions, took a group of his drawings for appraisal to Emil Orlik (1870-1934). a highly regarded Berlin artist and teacher. Orlik did not mince words in delivering his verdict: "It would be a sin if this boy did not become an artist.”3 Looking today at one of the drawings from that group, Hbllenfahrt e'oes bosen Weibes (The Coing to Hell of a Wicked Woman), 1930, we are not surprised by Orlik’s judgment, it s a striking piece, darkly beautiful, the work of a mature hand and intellect. In 1931, Schrag graduated from ithe Humanistisches Gymnasium in Karlsruhe. Concerned about troubknj developments in Germany, that same )year Karl's father moved the family to iunui. Zurich. Switzerland. ------ — pursued his studies at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts in Geneva. Remarking> on this school's regimented approid’ to art in a profile published in Down East magazine, Schrag displays a wry sense of humor: "It was i academic and the constant painting painting of of nudes nudes annoyed annoyed me. I don’t think the world consists entirely ol>f nude women. 4 8 | �Yet study r.e did. Moving to Paris in 1932, he enrolled in the Ecole Nationale Superieure des Beaux-Arts; he also found livelier instruction at the Academic Ranson (where an artist friend of Braque’s, Roger Bissiere, proved an influential teacher) and the Academie de la Grande Chaumiere. Schrag had his first one-person exhibition in 1938, at the Galerie Arenberg in Brussels. Belgium, where his brother Paul had moved to work. An outstanding oil from the 1930s, The Pagans (1934), finds Schrag working in a Daumier-like mode of social commentary, a response, no doubt, to the growing unrest in his homeland. In the picture, a cross section of humanity — priest, doctor, et al.—has turned its back on the crucifixion, and carries on as if death on the cross were a reason to socialize. The indifference of mankind to suffering and death is expressed in a memorable manner. When Paul and Karl decided to emigrate to America in 1938. their mother's New York background proved helpful in making their move a relatively smooth one. While his brother practiced law, Karl took a course in graphics at the Art Students League, studying printmaking with Harry Sternberg. Among his earliest New York paintings is the striking Madonna of the Subway. 1939, at once a social commentary and a study of serenity amidst the hurly-burly of the masses. In his essay for the catalogue that accompanied Schrag's first retrospective in I960 (sponsored by the American Federation of Arts, it opened at the Brooklyn Museum), John Gordon, then Curator of the Whitney Museum of American Art, notes how the artist’s “special philosophy of nature" begins to assert itself in the early New York work. The view of a highway that winds into distant countryside in Edge of a Town, 1940, represents, for Gordon, “Nature beckoning to the artist"1; and even an illustration made for an edition of Robert Louis Stevenson’s The Suicide Club, 1941, showing a wild display of stars and clouds above a oil on canvas, 1934, collection of Katherine Schrag- youngest of four sons of Hugo and Bella espected lawyer who administered funds for k the traditional skeptical stance toward his ; quoted his father as saying, “and maybe you ave a great deal of free time.”2 rl’s brother Paul, devoted champion of his apraisal to Emil Orlik (1870-1934), a highly n delivering his verdict: “It would be a sin if e drawings from that group, Hollenfahrt eines are not surprised by Orlik’s judgment: it’s a tellect. in Karlsruhe. Concerned about troubling ed the family to Zurich, Switzerland. Karl ti arking on this school's regimented approach flays a wry sense of humor: “It was rather 11 think the world consists entirely of nude Below: Edge of the Town, oil on canvas, 1940, collection of Katherine Schrag-Wangh. Right: Illustration from The Suicide Club by Robert Louis Stevenson, published by Pierre Beres, New York, 1941, etching and aquatint. �embnee Jnd^al north'a fewanyears later wXing'to the fore the artist’s nascem love of landscape standing rip at the rail of ocean ""Inspired by summers at the coast of Maine, I wanted to show the immensity of the sea. to find a visual parallel for the fragrance of grasses, for the sound of the sea and of falling rain, and to express the influence of the moon upon the ocean. It was a search for the essence and spirit of an experience. Karl Schrag, Happiness and Torment of Printmaking, 1966' Nineteen-forty-five was a wunderjahr for Karl Schrag. He married Use Szamatolski, a fellow German emigre, who continues to this day to be a guiding light in his life (and who appears, muse-hke, in a number of his canvases and prints); he made the first of many summer sojourns to Maine, with Chebeague Island, Martin's Point in Friendship, Castine, Vinalhaven and Spruce Head Island preceding his final move to Deer Isle in the late 1950s; and he had his first one-man print exhibition, mounted by the National Collection of Fine Arts, Smithsonian Institution (he’s had nearly ten since). And one mustn’t overlook the ending of the Second World War: the close of this dark chapter in the history of mankind played a crucial role in the evolution of Schrag’s creative enterprise. Many of his prints from the first half of the 1940s — Persecution. Meal of the Poor, To Hell with Hitler, War (“Fear"/. etc. — evidence an artist wholly engaged with the woes of the world. After 1945, we find him opening up his repertoire more and more to the life-giving forces of nature as he experiences them on the coast of Maine and elsewhere. Movement of a Field, Night Wind, Rain and the Sea: these are the subjects Schrag will favor, . -. . . • although he will never lose sight of social concerns or the minions of death. It was in 1945, too, that Schrag began his association with Stanley William Hayter, a British geologist whose enthusiastic and innovative approach to art and printmaking proved liberating to so many artists, Horn Chagall to Pollock. Schrag was a member, and later director, of Hayter’s famous Atelier 17, which had moved from Paris, 17 rue Campagne-Premiere, to New York’s Greenwich Village during the war. (Hayter " Gabor Peterd. Mauricio Lasansky and Aar' Serrig a), mm-.y-ypr ntmaking in the U SA throughout ere I 9$0s ' The various " tag c tectinques Schrag experimented »rtn at At returned to Paris in 1950: while living there in 1985, I paid him a visit, bearing an introduction from Karl p cto'-'ii nxx-on and a-’ected per-. hrs pai-trng and pr-rtma«;rg Pi Schrag, and spent the better part of a morning trying to keep up with his dynamic train of thought.) the two-color etching, e-grav-rg and aquatint. The .'-Aience of 9 Schrag couxi become -n h«s render ngs of coasts -noofc *s Like another legendary teacher of art, Robert Henri, Hayter seemed almost selfless in his encouragement of the esthetic act. Schrag s estimation of him highlights this quality: Hayter was inspiring as a person and not at all a teacher in the usual sense. We did things, not /. The group itself was moving forward. It was something just to see Miro working alongside of you. The humble attitude of such important that "The true end of Art is not to irrxate a fond materof condKao In the spirit or Harter s openness to '*« -nodes o* expression. : mediums •’Cudirg etcNng. engrawng. aquaont and iabograpty 1 affirmed c> vx senes of I‘ ;■ ts ■'C executed at the T»marm<9b2 Schrag has also oee- m**._ng -nonctvpes o* and or met t 980 he speaks of the extraordinary freedom surprise, airmess « artists was revealing/ Certain Schrag pnnts ac*-ev» me complexty of C-i^e'XX^Co^ °n hiS knowled£e t0 °'hers, teaching art at fkoo^ uksk. tr. Sound « exampie. touches ol vx ethers act nke accents .r, » me«ody o essent a to the o»e'a compostoon Loo* ig at dws won we Johnsen’ s nt odueben to K«d Scfc-oj 4 Grtoxagut Axw** she H Modern Art li-.t' Srhri^as one^T h ^97S’’ Riva Castleman. Curator of Prints at the Schrag as one of the three most important artists to come out of Master s woxsnop 16 whole not ust some suggest ve oetar-s must b-.nj owt re very achieved h* goal time and agam u a tr>pute to ne unceasing deeet �symbolic approach Schrag will soon artist's nascent love of landscape. ow the immensity for the sound of ; moon upon the Printmaking, I966‘ matolski. a fellow German emigre, ■ars, muse-like, in a number of his e. with Chebeague Island. Martin's ; his final move to Deer Isle in the ■ National Collection of Fine Arts. close of this dark chapter in the :ive enterprise. Many of his prints with Hitler, War ("Fear"), etc. — 945. we find him opening up his Left: Rain and the Sea, etching and engraving, 1946. Above: Landscape with Fruit, oil on canvas, 1950, collection of Dr. Peter Schrag and Katherine Schrag-Wangh. mces them on the coast of Maine re the subjects Schrag will favor. Hayter, a British geologist whose mating to so many artists, from 's famous Atelier 17. which had ) Village during the war. (Hayter taring an introduction from Karl tamic train of thought.) | "Gabor Peterdi, Mauricio Lasansky and Karl Schrag, all immigrants," she writes, “dominated the field of printmaking in the U.SA. throughout the 1950s."’ The various intaglio techniques Schrag experimented with at Atelier 17 enhanced his sense of line and pictorial motion, and affected both his painting and printmaking. Pieces like the oil, Landscape with Fruit, and the two-color etching, engraving and aquatint, The Influence of the Moon, both 1950, show how abstract Schrag could become in his linear renderings of coastal motifs. He might be heeding George Inness' claim that "The true end of Art is not to imitate a fixed material condition, but to represent a living motion." selfless in his encouragement of In the spirit of Hayter’s openness to new modes of expression, Schrag has worked in all manner of print le usual sense, something just uch important mediums, including etching, engraving, aquatint and lithography. His mastery of the last-named process is affirmed by the series of I I prints he executed at the Tamarind Lithography Workshop in Los Angeles in 1962. Schrag has also been making monotypes off and on since the 1940s. In “On Monotypes," written in 1980. he speaks of the “extraordinary freedom, surprise, airiness, even mystery" of this printing technique. Certain Schrag prints achieve the complexity of music. In Sound of a Forest Brook, 1986 (colorplate p. 51), for athers, teaching art at Brooklyn example, touches of six colors act like accents in a melody comprised of numerous marks, each one essential to the overall composition. Looking at this work, we recall Schrag s ideal, as set forth in Una Johnson's introduction to Karl Schrag: A Catalogue Raisonne of the Graphic Works, 1939-1970: the print as a whole, not just some suggestive details, must bring out the very essence of a landscape. ’ That Schrag has tor of Prints at the Museum of achieved his goal time and again is a tribute to his unceasing devotion to the art of printmaking. me out of Hayter’s workshop- II �“The island has a beauty of its own—/Something which is like the winds and sun, I Complete and all in all and very final. I No place could lie so open to the sky / shifts in light that one can experience in the course of a Ma ne 0; by placing them side by side, letting the different subjects..in v; And be without a kind of holiness." Robert P. Tristram Coffin, “The Island” The Maine island environment — its isolation, its openness to the sky and water and weather h Karl Schrag’s imagination for going on 50 years. At the same time, the simplicity of the landscaop 7. Uelet* has stated, “like when you of the picturesque have challenged the artist. “It’s not just served to you,” Schrag ' go to Italy, or even to Colorado, and you see the mountains, and it’s; so wonderful, and immediately you see it. Maine is more subtle, I think: it has to be almost brought to life or created by the artist.”10 subtle, I think; it has to Like his Kraushaar stablemates and close friends John Heliker and William Kienbusch, Schrag has been sustained by the constant elements — I was about to say companions of his Maine surroundings. There is Gogh’s words, "sing against each other.” In his book Landscape into Ar. Sir Kenneth Clark wrote: "Tl enchanted garden — be it Eden, or the Hespendes or Tir-nan-C — is one of humanity’s most constant, widespread and consob myths." The Maine island of Schrag’s invention merits Inclusion that list, a place of enchantment, of consolation, of great art "If you want to enjoy the world, you must give value to the world.” Goethe, to Schopenhauer the backyard apple tree that, over the years, has assumed the spirit of the artist. There are the islands that cast their spell of distance. There is the sea, which, in the painting Infinity, 1990, suggests the end of land and While the discovery of Maine was crucial to Schrag’s growth a: time. And there is the night. landscape painter, he was also taken with other places, amo them Spain and Italy. Mexico and the Caribbean. Inspired by a v. Schrag is the master of the Maine island nightscape even, it sometimes seems, its inventor. So often we to Spain. Montserrat, I9S8. a gouache John Gordon term miss the night in our lives: the shades are pulled, the curtains drawn, the doors locked. Schrag reaffirms our "breathtaking." features a powerful thrusting calligraphy that p>. need of it; paintings like Island Night, 1978 (colorplate p. 43), Night Woods with Apple Tree, 1983 (co/orplate p. the eye into the landscape. It’s interesting to note that Schr 48), and Barn Door and Moonlit Field, 1984-85 (colorplate p. 49), invite us to partake of the moon-haunted realm of otherworldly apple trees, of meadows edged with dark spruce. In these nocturnes, Shakespeare's works almost exclusively in gouache for his tropical pictures, ap matching this brilliant opaque watercolor medium witf Midsummer Night’s Dream finds a new stage, on the coast of Maine. landscape of bright hues. . Schrag’s use of intense colors has drawn comparisons to van Gogh, Munch and the German Expressionists. Summer—Apple Tree and Yellow House, 1975-76 (colorplate p. 34), and The Green Night, 1982 (colorplate p. 47), are good examples of the way in which the world can be colored as much by the artist’s psyche as by the pigments he places on the canvas. In the former, the bright yellow house and the fiery trunk of the tree have a feverish quality, an almost tropical heat. By contrast, the green canopy of the night sky in the latter work lends a coolness to the artist’s, and our, view of house and barn, moonlit trees and rocks. The canons of realism are overridden by the intensity of Schrag’s emotional response to the scene. In recent years, a new pictorial device has been incorporated in Schrag’s paintings, a narrow, irregular band of color along the edge of the canvas. I recall my initial amazement at this daring addition. While I had seen Equally remarkable is Blue Arches, 1979, an etching and aquatint seven colors which, in August Freundlich's words, "captures t tropical lushness of Jamaica..., the color is ripe, lush, full." • This [ 1978 (colorplate p. 40). which also focuses on the visually striking New York City, where Schrag spends his winters, has been the In the extraordinary Seventeen Night Figures, 1973 tcotorptae p. congregate on the sidewalk, on a summer night, their postures youth. Describing this painting in the The New York Times (Feb. wondered at how "pastoral delicacy is abandoned for a lurid a Kirchner." painted frames before, this was something quite different: the color border modified the tone and mood o what lay within it, investing the Maine views, still-lifes and portraits with an extra optical charge. Amazement It makes a noteworthy study to compare this painting with Self turned to admiration at the visual leap Schrag had made. which Schrag again depicts other generations: mother with c Knowing the history of Schrag’s palette and the prominent role color has played in his work, the fram J standing, stretching on a sunlit beach. A mixture of puzzleme face of the artist, who seems to turn his back on youth. And y< bands seem a natural step forward, albeit a giant one. In a similar manner, his inventive juxtaposition echo, respectively, the warm sand and distant water, connectin different times of day on a single canvas did not come out of the blue, but has developed over the yei sbecoming a major theme only recently. SchZ’Uonve°o? T LC0'°r^te 60> and N'W°"’ NiSht ^d Morning (co/orpfate p. 61). both 1990. Schrag s love of what he calls in a 1968 letter, "a landscape of big contrasts " He underlines the 12 "It is true that at moments, when I am in a goofl alive in art. and eternally aiive. is in the first place thl place the picture" Vincentva| �winds and a the sky / he Island” • and weather — has fueled >f the landscape and its lack has stated, "like when you j|, and immediately you see ae artist.”10 enbusch, Schrag has been line surroundings. There is There are the islands that shifts in light that one can experience in the course of a Maine day by placing them side by side, letting the different subjects, in van Gogh’s words, "sing against each other." In his book Landscape into Art, Sir Kenneth Clark wrote: “The enchanted garden—’be it Eden, or the Hesperides, or Tir-nan-Og — is one of humanity’s most constant, widespread and consoling myths." The Maine island of Schrag’s invention merits inclusion in that list, a place of enchantment, of consolation, of great art. "If you want to enjoy the world, you must give value to the world.” Goethe, to Schopenhauer iggests the end of land and While the discovery of Maine was crucial to Schrag's growth landscape painter, he was also taken with other places, among its inventor. So often we >/e Tree, 1983 (colorplate p. to Spain, Montserrat, 1958, a gouache John Gordon termed “breathtaking," features a powerful thrusting calligraphy that pulls the eye into the landscape. It's interesting to note that Schrag ake of the moon-haunted works almost exclusively in gouache for his tropical pictures, aptly nocturnes, Shakespeare’s matching this brilliant opaque watercolor medium with a landscape of bright hues. them Spain and Italy, Mexico and the Caribbean. Inspired by a visit eked. Schrag reaffirms our le German Expressionists. ght, 1982 (colorplate p. 47), e artist's psyche as by the ery trunk of the tree have ght sky in the latter work and rocks. The canons of , a narrow, irregular band Montserrat, gouache 1958. col'cct-,.. Whitney Museum of Amencan Art. ’>•. Equally remarkable is Blue Arches, 1979, an etching and aquatint in seven colors which, in August Freundlich's words, "captures the tropical lushness of Jamaica..., the color is ripe, lush, full." ■ This print grew out of an oil. Blue Arch'-',,] ima: i I. 1978 (colorplate p. 40), which also focuses on the visually striking open-air island architecture New York City, where Schrag spends his winters, has been the source of some of his strongest figural work. In the extraordinary Seventeen Night Figures, 1973 (colorplate p. 33). young men and women. Hippie-looking, congregate on the sidewalk, on a summer night, their postures and half-hidden visages lit with the energy of youth. Describing this painting in the The New York Times (Feb. 8. 1975), then chief art critic Hilton Kramer wondered at how “pastoral delicacy is abandoned for a lurid and powerful image reminiscent of Munch and iddition. While I had seen ed the tone and mood of Kirchner." ptical charge. Amazement It makes a noteworthy study to compare this painting with Self-Portrait with Bathers. 1990 (colorplate p 59/. in which Schrag again depicts other generations: mother with child, a couple in half embrace, single figures in his work, the framing inventive juxtaposition o leveloped over the years, reflect p. 61). both 1990, I . the intense 4e underlines standing, stretching on a sunlit beach. A mixture of puzzlement, sadness, even alienation, plays across the face of the artist, who seems to turn his back on youth. And yet his yellow shirt and the blue band of his hat echo, respectively, the warm sand and distant water, connecting him to the scene. "It is true that at moments, when I am in a good mood, I think that what is alive in art, and eternally alive, is in the first place the painter and in the second place the picture.” Vincent van Gogh, letter to Theo, 1888 13 �1 io-nj h orr Atiddtr T<m IHJ -cm:- 73 !D Jx SU? M . •■' ■ v.xnet* non- a o z* jj>.' ' ..-t ■ -t j a •. t-a-•?.«i iuhmx lyjf’ In .i p> • >! ’ ■_ k • ■■ ’ ' enchnsiism c»fy ■ •976 kivif "I '• «•• oactvng rhe moment when, both *i 1 peoon to Che posvbOity of fr«4( freedom I Hel I am breaking don barriers m my worl. taking more chthCM I am MV••■.' bill .. |.| !.• •u •. i « I .•••’.•. t.-jiU- 1 ..{,kj ; • : ■ i.. w I,.•..'Ilf. ; • > ; I' Igi all «I. I !♦■ I. t••*■.! I >■! ■ i- ■' ........... • i • '■ ■ r l. i • ■' * ■ < ■ 'r^. »O long' *3-. i94t r , regard* -■ i rr!f. er;^ qil'-Z'Oir. hi. .r rj'!Hf ' •/<'.»« i rvfr* Above: Artst .v i/i P-jprr Hat, o>! on A - .u a.or >,■■ n ••■ t ; ,■ • .■ /'.•! . 1,' . ■' V5’ir.| ■ N ■■ ■ ■, ji|.,'i ■••. '.r It e .it ! 1788 ,. u ■ 11 If >.p." Iin". Rerent y*»>» i ved pcxtren actyuH-ed t>y t but .1 few ft • ini H.r pur '.. the Audi r* .<■■ I *U»e «< . jk • lam always studying nher nature and it iim to me that I r .! ♦ turn Mu4» 1 Dr. Peter Schrag /■>•■>..■. Right St -'■-■■■. ■ has been shown He has been moved by a new seif-portrait. eeMarac collection of the National Academy of Dei'gn br< -itli .it t‘"• ... ■' ': ‘ • r ■ '..•■ : wb.lt I wild Carl Urrlfc /■!.:< The Farnsworth’s retrospective begins and ends on portraits of fie .•>• t. • ‘ Mj . iW th s theme of self­ inquiry as no exhibition has in the past. Artist with Paper Hat. 1941, the earliest, displays an mtngumg sew t ' naaTyn Hagar* Art awareness well beyond the artist's years. The straightforwardness of this depiction is fascinating and enigmatic, the youthful artist captured at an odd moment, the hat. like a dunce's, emphasizing the figures vulnerability. 2 »• • ♦* *** - < .4 ' i : Jumping 50 years, the latest self-portrait. Night Time. 1991 'colorplate p 69), shares the early work's seder ' ™ t* 5 - <■ • • Yattaw * *• fjr? larwi ■ demeanor. Confined, it seems, to his cell-like bedroom, the painter paints r 1 witro :t f > Jr ‘ ’ : and wide awake, his eyes black dots. Critic Theodore Wolff likened this painting to Munch’s seff-porti* Between the Clock and the Bed. 1940-42. Both artists infuse a quotidien rr.omer.t z. tr. psycho ogca:1" rd a forthright acknowledgment of mortality—that we are all, in Yeats formula, 14 Csf»mgM»r< by i A*-»' ‘ fastened to a dyir g ar ma s.4 CaxAnaa D*<a �The comparison to Munch is a very apt one. Going from face to face in the gallery of Schrag self-portraits — from the almost jocular man in tophat in The Middle Years, 1961 (colorplate p. 27), to the unflinching artist who faces us in Self-Portrait, Paintings and Windows, 1973, to the introspective painter in the intimate Self­ Portrait with Candle, 1987 — I'm reminded of how, in Munch’s paintings of himself, the artist seems to be “following himself, sometimes in a suspicious manner, sometimes lingeringly, and at other times in a biting, ironic way."1’ It would seem the artist’s sense of himself is never fully resolved, and so he tries again and again. In a profile published in American Artist magazine in 1976, Schrag, then 65, spoke of his future with the enthusiasm of a young man: “I am approaching the moment when, both as a person and as an artist, I have the possibility of great freedom. I feel I am breaking down more and more barriers in my work, taking more chances. I am attracted to the danger zones.”1' Karl Schrag has never lost this fearless approach to art. Recent years have witnessed new ground broken, new heights reached in painting and printmaking. I have avoided listing the laurels that have come his way, but a few from the past decade can’t hurt: a self-portrait acquired by the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, in 1983; the Andrew Carnegie Prize for Painting from the National Academy of Design in 1988; two print retrospectives, in 1986 and 1988; and critical plaudits in the major art magazines. For all the glory, Schrag maintains a healthy sense of despair as regards the success of his esthetic endeavors. He is fond of a quotation from a letter Cezanne wrote in 1906, the year he died, in which the French master questions his accomplishments as an artist: “Will I ever attain the end for which I have striven so much and so long?—I am always studying after nature and it seems to me that I make slow progress." At the close of a visit to the barn studio on Deer Isle, the visitor finds himself rhapsodizing about what he has been shown. He has been moved by a new self-portrait, exhilarated by a brilliant bouquet, and held his breath at the unveiling of a landscape. Karl Schrag, the artist, listens carefully, half smiles, and says, “I did what I could." Carl Little Somesville, Maine, 1992 Notes 1. Kcri Schrag: A Catalogue Raisonne of the Graphic Works, Part III, 1981-1990, Introduction by DomenicJ. lacono, Syracuse University, 1991. 2. "Karl Schrag: An and Serious Laughter," interview with the artist by Stephane Mackay Levy, Preview!. Ellsworth, Maine, August 3-10, 1990. 3. Cited in John Gordon. Karl Schrag, The American Federation of Arts, New York. I960. 4. Jacks. Shirley. "Getting Maine on Canvas,” Down East, September 1990. 5. Gordon. John. Karl Schrog. f>. Artist's Proof. A Journal of Printmaking, vol. VI, numbers 9-10, Pratt Graphic Art Center, 1966. 7. Cited in John Gordon. Karl Schrag. 8. Castleman, Riva. Prints of the Twentieth Century: A History. The Museum of Modem Art. New York, 1976. 9. Karl Schrag: A Catalogue Raisonne of the Graphic Works, 1939-1970. Introduction by Una E. Johnson, Syracuse University, 1971. 10. “Karl Schrag: Art and Serious Laughter," Preview!, 1990. I I. Gussow, Alan, A Sense of Place: The Artist and the American Land. Friends of the Earth Series. The Saturday Review Press. New York. 1971. 12. Karl Schrag: A Catalogue Raisonne of the Graphic Works, Part II, 1971-1980, Commentary by August L Freundlich, Syracuse University, 1981. 13. Arne Eggum, et al., Edvard Munch: Symbols and Images. National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC, 1978. 14. Cochrane, Diane, "Karl Schrag: On Landscape." American Artist. November 1976. 15 �END OF NIGHT AND DAY Bl CLARIFYING MY THOUGHT wedding of dream and reality—one of their offspring so much inner peace and happiness. I know that I am out of step with dominant directions in con is in German called innerlichkeit—-spiritual intensity, intimacy Figure compositions, imagined scenes with many figures, wer young artist in “the New World,’’ I was struck by the great spirit of these works was not so much social as humanistic a I wished to convey an almost religious message. There w images were formed by white lines, like a script in white. Right: Madonna of the Subway, oil on canvas, 1939, collection of the artist. Facing page: Self-Portrait aquatint, 1963. �END OF NIGHT AND DAY BREAK: CLARIFYING MY THOUGHTS A wedding of dream and reality—one of their offsprings is the art which gives me so much despair and so much inner peace and happiness. I know that I am out of step with dominant directions in contemporary art as I am fervently striving for what is in German called innerlichkeit—spiritual intensity, intimacy, warmth, and depth. Figure compositions, imagined scenes with many figures, were the subject of many of my early paintings. As a young artist in “the New World,” I was struck by the great loneliness of each one within a city crowd. The spirit of these works was not so much social as humanistic and compassionate. In my prints of the war years, I wished to convey an almost religious message. There was a group of deeply bitten aquatints in which images were formed by white lines, like a script in white. Righc Madonna of the Subway, oil on canvas, 1939, collection of the artist. Facing page: Self-Portrait, aquatint, 1963. 17 �Abstract expressionism was, and will always remain, inspiring m its ongmahty and darmg v.tality. The gr0Up Abstract expressionism of American and European artists working in S. W. Hayter’s Ateher 7 were in close contact with the artist, o Jus movement and at night, after our work at Hayter’s on East 8th Street, there were regular meetings of the two groups at the Cedar Tavern or The White Horse, for beer and talk. But from the beginning, my very strong and everlasting love of what is seen in nature, and my intense involvement with people and places needed an art which would transform but not relinquish reality, admired the work of the abstract expressionists and was a friend of many of the movement’s leaders. Abstract expressionism was a liberating force for American painting and sculpture, and I was impressed and affected by the new gained freedom and by the movement’s reliance upon the mysteries of the subconscious. But I could not join this, at the time, so dominant direction in art. As I contemplate a long life's work, I see that my love for nature and the real did1 not lead to any attempt at is obviously there. Rather, I was always in search of my own language of exactitude in representing what is t of my world’s deeper truths visible to myself and to others. forms, to make an inner vision < ‘ , Motion is not Emotion Motion —and lack of motion — can have great expressive power in art. The movement of lines, brushstrokes, forms, and colors in rapid or slow transition provoke an infinity of emotional responses. But movement is frequently only physical, without spiritual meaning. It is also only one of an artist’s many ways for expressing an emotion. Lines can be the melody, color the orchestration. I believe that the intense moments seen in my work mirror the vitality, the nervous alertness, and the tension of the extreme situations in our lives and of our time. Subjects that appear time and again are the radiant sun, the uncertainty and mystery of night scenes, the effect of wind and rain upon sea and land, the silver glow of meadows when the moon is full, the intense inward look in a face. The landscape paintings would be impossible without innumerable studies from nature. Over the years these studies—usually done with pen or markers and often with oil crayons for color notations—have filled many sketchbooks. But nature appears in the paintings and prints as it is remembered rather than as it is seen, the transformation of nature into art is not just a simplification or summing up. The paintings strive for the creation of a personal “language” of form, light, color, and movement. I can feel the mood and character of a painting strongly from the very beginning, but the form (which, I hope, will parallel the inspiration) grows and develops as the work progresses — sometimes with ease, often with “blood, sweat, and tears.” The painting takes shape from within itself, forcing upon the artist its own rules and needs, so that the finished work may seem enigmatic and surprising even to the artist. A Work of Art is Beyond the Reach of Words The most varied thoughts and feelings can be sensed in paintings and prints. Expressions of peace and calm are as profound and alive as those of anxiety and drama. They are like the slow movements in a m composition, corresponding to beautifully pure and quiet moments in life. I remember when, as a boy, I heard the mt laid singing those gentle, often sad, German folk songs while she was cleaning up in the kitchen at night, and II was trying to sleep. I wish I could in my work come close to[ e sincerity and simplicity of those songs. 18 Above: September, oil on canvas, 1989, collection of Mr. and Mrs. John S. Ames III. Right Midsummer, oil on canvas, 1990, courtesy Kraushaar Galleries. Works of art of limited dimensions are for me particularly spellb Schubert’s to Mahler's, short stories and poems. There must be no set method in my work, no pattern and easy repe — like handwriting. Works of art should be considered and ren considered and later remembered. Technical brilliance was never my aim. In many contemporary prints of a workshop — cannot overcome the feeling of coldness and em striking effect. The groping, unfinished, even painfully incomplete cf moves me deeply—the old age style of painters like Titian, Rembra by Giacometti and by the aged Michelangelo. The need for what seem to be color frames or borders surroundin several years ago. I had observed that it was only after much deli color in which my signature should appear on a new painting. The work; the entire painting is reacting to its placement, color, size, learned that I have the freedom of introducing invented color are; the appearance and expressiveness of the entire work. The wide or narrow "frames” are not a decorative device nor only the composition — they are important, integrated parts of the pa seen in relation to the forms and colors of these borders. They ma; color altogether—according to which particular part of the pain addition to, but a part of the work, they strongly influence the appt �ring in its originality and daring vitality. The group ’s Atelier 17 were in close contact with the artists on East Sth Street, there were regular meetings of ;e, for beer and talk. But from the beginning, my ■e, and my intense involvement with people and iquish reality. I admired the work of the abstract \ & ; leaders. Abstract expressionism was a liberating ssed and affected by the new gained freedom and onscious. But I could not join this, at the time, so ature and the real did not lead to any attempt at , I was always in search of my own language of visible to myself and to others. sive power in art. The movement of lines, provoke an infinity of emotional responses. But Above: September, oil on canvas. 1989. collection of Mr. and Mrs. John S. Ames III. Right: Midsummer, oil on canvas, 1990, courtesy Kraushaar Galleries. ling. It is also only one of an artist’s many ways e orchestration. or the vitality, the nervous alertness, and the Works of art of limited dimensions are for me particularly spellbinding: drawings and prints, Heder from Schubert’s to Mahler’s, short stories and poems. ne. Subjects that appear time and again are the i effect of wind and rain upon sea and land, the There must be no set method in my work, no pattern and easy repetition. I think that style evolves naturally vard look in a face. — like handwriting. Works of art should be considered and remembered one by one, like people are considered and later remembered. -able studies from nature. Over the years these I crayons for color notations — have filled many ; it is remembered rather than as it is seen, the i or summing up. The paintings strive for the vement. I can feel the mood and character of a ch, I hope, will parallel the inspiration) grows se, often with “blood, sweat, and tears.” The t its own rules and needs, so that the finished Technical brilliance was never my aim. In many contemporary prints this brilliance—usually the achievement of a workshop — cannot overcome the feeling of coldness and emptiness which often follows their at first striking effect. The groping, unfinished, even painfully incomplete character of the works of certain masters moves me deeply — the old age style of painters like Titian, Rembrandt, Braque and Corinth—or sculptures by Giacometti and by the aged Michelangelo. The need for what seem to be color frames or borders surrounding my compositions appeared in my work several years ago. I had observed that it was only after much deliberation that I chose the place and the color in which my signature should appear on a new painting. The signature is on the painting, part of the work; the entire painting is reacting to its placement, color, size, and character. From this observation I learned that I have the freedom of introducing invented color areas into my painting, which strongly affect igs and prints. Expressions of peace and calm ey are like the slow movements in a musical the appearance and expressiveness of the entire work. The wide or narrow “frames" are not a decorative device nor only intended to arrest the space and flow of ents in life. sntle, often sad, German folk songs while she 3.1 wish I could in my work come close to the the composition — they are important, integrated parts of the paintings. Forever the composition will be seen in relation to the forms and colors of these borders. They may change in intensity of color—-or change color altogether — according to which particular part of the painting they enclose. Since they are not an addition to, but a part of the work, they strongly influence the appearance of every other color, and also the 19 �p«Bbe' yam structure and light within the work. On some canvases the color bands are only along the top and bottom of the paintings — then they seem to prolong the concept of these works in space and time. Any retrospective exhibition, particularly one spanning so many years, speaks of the passage of time. The gradual or sudden changes in an artist’s work correspond to his In music it is usual, even expected, that composers can n march or a scherzo. Why in the visual arts should an as expression that mirror the infinite variety and astounding In ending these notes I wish to express my gratitude to journey, understood and supported my efforts as a man a more difficult than to be an artist. inner development as time goes by. In the exhibition, the obvious changes from the painting of the boyish Artist with one showing old artist sitting wide Paper Hat to the t---------' ’ _ the 1 his bed at night — and all the self-portraits in awake on between — clearly speak of the passage of life and time. In the late landscape paintings time s passage is shown differently and in new ways: change of mood, weather, and time appear in a single painting. These changes usually flow one into the other—evening turns into night, night into daybreak, or summer haze may be abruptly contrasted with autumn wind. Dawn, noon, and night gradually merge First of all — I want to thank Use, my great love and wife I for their endless loyalty, love, and kindness. They and m me. Among the friends, I feel special gratitude toward th sincere admiration gave me assurance and, at dark mome Close to the exit door, open to deepest darkness, stanc applauds those who applaud him with much sincere ferv untouched. Karl Schrag New York City, 1992 into one another as the color framing corresponds or contrasts with adjoining parts of the composition. The differences of mood and time within the same work At N litho intensify the realization of great changes. The structure, Self-Portrait with Pine Tree, oil on canvas. 1989. collection of Mr. Jeffrey Stark. rhythm, and color of the so different parts within one ___________________________________________ work strengthen the awareness of time and of the amazing variety of nature’s and man’s moods — like the contrasting color harmonies "singing" against each other. It is as if there are two artists within me and they are at war with each other. The one blindly obeys his instincts and wants to go his way like a sleepwalker. The other is wide awake, an architect and careful builder of compositions, always questioning and highly critical. There is, of course, no wall separating feeling from thinking, and sometimes I say to myself that other men have the same double nature and are in tune with the life-giving forces of this eternal strife which appears in my work. My strong desire to express from sunlit serenity to the darkest moods has its roots in a constant awareness of myself being a part of the nature and life which I observe. With every breath I take, with every heartbeat, I feel within myself the rhythms of nature. It would be good if my work, mirroring so many feelings and thoughts, were to be as alive and strong as a healthy human being, able to overcome all attacks and hardships. The happy sensations of vitality and growth which some have felt within my work have, by others, been seen as expressions of anxiety and anguish. The inhumanity, persecutions, and crimes of the Hitler time are engraved in my memory, and narrow escapes from severe illness have left their mark upon my outlook. As it I i'kp m™01 na7e 30 Underlying' ®enera' philosophy in work which speaks of so many different emodom work mine 'S n°C °ne P'ece’ anc* both celebration and despair find expression in my The intend?"1 The intensity of the most contradictory feelings is characteristic of our time 20 ri 1 �ie work. On some canvases ig the top and bottom of the to prolong the concept of .". muSiC i, is usuai, esen expected, that composers can masterfully andante or masterfully write write an an andante or an an allegro, allegro, aa funeral funeral march or a scherao. Why in the visual arts should an artist not search for and find in his work forms of expression that mirror the infinite variety and astounding wealth of human emotions? particularly one spanning so sage of time. The gradual er 's work correspond to his m ending these notes I wish to express my gratitude to all — the dead and the alive — who, during a long iOumey. understood and supported my efforts as a man and as an artist. To be a man, ein mensch, is perhaps more difficult than to be an artist. >es by. In the exhibition, the iting of the boyish Artist ,, g the old artist sitting wide and all the self-portraits ;n e passage of life and time, in First of a —I want to thank Use, my great love and wife for almost fifty years, and all the others in my family tor the:" endtess loyalty, love, ano kindness. They and many wonderful friends were of the greatest help to me. Among the friends. I feel special gratitude toward the many artists in different fields, who by insight and sincere admiration gave me assurance and, at dark moments, new strength. ; time's passage is shown ange of mood, weather, and , These changes usually flew turns into night, night into tay be abruptly contrasted n, and night gradually merse Close to the exit door, open to deepest darkness, stands in fading light the old artist, tired but smiling. He applauds those who applaud him with much sincere fervor, while others shrug their shoulders and leave— untouched. Kari Schrag New York City, 1992 >r framing corresponds or s of the composition. The ne within the same work :at changes. The structure, At Night—The Artist and His Wife, lithograph, 1989. different parts within one mess of time and of the d man’s moods — like t~e . The one blindly obeys his e, an architect and careful e, no wall separating feerng jble nature and are in tune ats in a constant awareness take, with every heartbeat, □ring so many feelings and overcome all attacks and have, by others, been see' nes of the Hitler time arc- ark upon my outlook. - ■ > many different emotions, nd expression in my *ork. 21 �■- ; ----------- - - ---------- ■ j- i The one who looks at my work must bring his own [personality and feelings to the work in order to grasp it. He himself becomes; to some degree the painter. Wind, Wave and Tree, oil on canvas, 1955 �ig his own personality and feedings :lf becomes to some degree the painter-" cr.rf Trtt, oil on canvas, 1955 �s 1 The Sound of the Sea, etching and aquatint, 1958 Jia/iK t > Dork Trees at Noon, etching, engraving and aquatint 24 �J) a,-.k i ■ ■ • * -- Dark Trees at Noon, etching, engraving and aquatint, 1961 25 �on canvas, Ll �.'vJSISSK “Lines are me me'oo, ccc' me c Overgrown Path, lithograph, 1962 �istration." Outgrown Path, lithograph, 1962 29 �"Much of the inspiration for my landscape comes from Maine because it has so many contrasts—the darkest woods, the most luminescent distances— and so many moods which correspond to the feelings one has about life." blue Apple Tree—White Sky, oil on canvas. 1965 �n for my landscape comes from Maine because s—the darkest woods, the most luminescent distances— lich correspond to the feelings one has about life.” Blue Apple Tree—White Sky, oil on canvas, 1965 31 �Seventeen Night Figures, oil on canvas, 1973 33 �^5sgaw»f ^v.-: Dark Branches and Sunny Meadow II, oil on canvas, 1976 Summer—Apple Tree and Yellow House, oil on canvas, 1975-76 �on canvas. 35 �a -•s I “At no time have 1 endeavored to improve upon my personal styli style develops naturally—like handwriting.” jht Sounds of a Brook, monotype and gouache. 1977 �improve upon my personal style.idwriting." 5 - ofg firooR, monotype and gouache, 37 �feel but-snot there“What is most important to me is to paint and draw w �on canvas, 1977 I feel but is not there.” �1 I. Park Toward Evening, Jamaica, gouache, 1978 Blue Arches, Jamaica I, oil on �'■ • - - C'C Ear:.'gouache, 1978 41 �mm Hight, oil on canvas. 1978 �My self-portraits follow me like a story." i Self-Portrait—Night, oil on canvas, I' �lel.ke 3 story. �The Green Night, oil on canvas, 1982 �Night Woods with Apple Tree, oil on canvas, 1983 Born Door and Moonlit Field, oil on board. ��of a Forest Brook, etching and aquatint, ! SI �“Paintings should be remembered like people, one by one. ’ In the Forest—The Artist a �Ilke people, one by one." ��Midsummer Night, oil on canvas, 1988 S t Cloud, Land and Water, monotype, 1989 ��■ ! _ “Picasso said it takes a long time to become young. I think he is right. Self-Portrait with Batliers, oil on canvas, 1990 �ne to become young. I think he is right." with Bathers, oil on canvas, 1990 �° MorninS- oil On canvas, 1990 �J • intfall. Night and Morning, oil on canvas, 1990 ! J I �The conviction has stayed with me that I have something within me that wants to be expressed...the treasure is there and as far as I could, I tried to bring it out.” ed Tree Full Moon, oil on canvas, 1990 �ir Fl '' . $ 11 J =n has stayed w,th me that I have something within me that wants ed„.the treasure IS there and as far as I could. I tried to bring it out." ’ Moon, oil on canvas, 1990 63 �fl r■ F■r " . ■■ 1 ‘i PC “What we carry away from an experience often lives in our memories more intensely and more eloquently than that which we actually see." L I 'he Big Canvas, ail on canvas. 1990 �science often lives in our memories more intensely :h we actually see.” �[Time and Mood, oil on canvas, 1991 �.-Z �■ I •.jrtTwe, Oil on canvas. 1991 �<■ I exhibition of paintings and prin'.j Galleries. CHRONOLOGY 1912 1931 of Hugo and Bella Born in Karlsruhe, Germany, son was an American from (Sulzberger) Schrag. His mother New York City. His German father was a lawyer. Graduated from Humanistisches Gymnasium where subjects included Latin and ancient Greek. Parents moved to Zurich, Switzerland. Studied at Ecole des Beaux Arts. Geneva.I. Won two prizes for drawing. 1932 J a competition and was admitted Went to Paris, passed Ecole Nationale Superieure des (free of charge) to E Arts? Also studied at Academic Ranson with Beaux * *•Roger Bissiere, an abstract painter, and at La Grande Dehn. 1953 The Newark Museum . i: g af ? Schrag painting from the Ar;; -■..de"*/ of Arn ;nc Letters. In 1978 anot'e: tr.g given to the Springfield A»t Museum. M . Catalogue Ra-sonn of: Grapi..; Wo-k-, '939-1970. published by Syracuse Universe/ Catalogue introduction by Una E. Jcr-on. Karl Shrag print archive established at Syracuse Joined faculty at Cooper Union and taught there until Museum. 1968. Included in Twenty American Drawings at the Contemporaries Gallery, Nev/ York (other artists included Avery, Ben-Zion, David Smith and 1938 University. 1971-72 Included in Tamarind, an exh bitic circulated by the Internationa! Exhibitions Foundation. 1972 Retrospective exhibition of prints, National Ccliecton of Fine Arts, Smithsonian Institution, Wash ".gtor D.C. 1973 Gives lecture at Sheldon Museum. University of Nebraska. Lincoln, and at the Joslyn Museum, Omaha, n conjunction with exhibition A Sense cf Place. 1976 Included in American Prints, 1913 - (963. the Museum cf Modern Art. New York, which was Circulated to ma-or European museums. Included in Contemporary American Prints, Gifts of the Singer Collection, the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Commissioned by the Brooklyn Museum to make a pnnt for fundraising. 1980 Honored, with the other members of the Adv.scry Board of New York Artists’ Equity, at a luncheon at New York's 67th Street Armory Walkowitz). 1956 York, with Harry Sternberg. 1941 New York. Taught Graphic Arts at Brooklyn College (replacing Kurt Seligman). 1954 First one man show at Gaierie Arenberg. Brussels. 1939 to Jamaica. St. Barthc'emy - c Included in 14 Printmakers, joint exhibition ar Stable Gallery. Kraushaar Galleries and the Brooklyn Went to Brussels, Belgium to paint. Came to the United States. Studied printmaking at the Art Students League, New f made trips First print acquired by the Museum of Modern A 1953-57 Chaumiere. 1936-38 J-!*aar Included in Second International Exhibinc: :,r 5.,,.. and Prints in Lugano, Switzerland. Four . each country were chosen. The other An- ■ '-2 rorn were Louis Schanker, Armin Landed, ar.^AdoTh First participation in Society of American Etchers Represented in exhibition, Modern An in the United States, shown at Tate Gallery, London and. under the auspices of the Museum of Modern Art, traveled to other European cities. Annual. Illustrated deluxe edition of Robert Louis Stevenson’s The Suicide Club published by Pierre Beres. First of many invitations to participate in annual exhibitions at the Whitney Museum of American Art. 1944 Became a citizen of the United States. 1945 Married Use Szamatolski; adopted Peter, her son from her first marriage. First summer in Maine, on Chebeague Island. In other years he and his family summered on Spruce Head Island, in Castine, in Harborside, in Friendship (Martin’s Point), on Vinalhaven and in Ellsworth. After 1959 almost every summer has been spent in an old farm house on Deer Isle. Joined S. W. Hayter’s Atelier 17. in New York, which included the European artists Chagall, Masson, Miro, Lipchitz, Dali and Tanguy, and among the American artists Rattner, Alice Mason, Louise Bourgeois, Lasansky, Peterdi, Calapai, Racz, Sue Fuller, Minna Citron, Ortman, Grippe and Anne Ryan. First one-man exhibition at National Collection of Fine Arts, Smithsonian Institution. 1957 Included in Fifty American Drawings at the Brooklyn 1958 Trip to France, Germany and Spain. One-man exhibition of prints at Staatliche Kunsthalle, Karlsruhe, Germany, and at Oslerreichisches Konsulat, Museum. Baden-Baden, Germany. I960 One of twelve American artists selected by the American Federation of Arts, under a grant from the Ford Foundation, for a retrospective exhibition and monograph (text by John Gordon, curator at the Whitney Museum of American Art). Exhibition of thirty-five paintings and ten prints opened at the Catalogue Raisonne of the Graphic Works, Part (I, 19711980. published by Syracuse Um/ersity Catalogue introduction by August L Freundlich Elected Academician. National Academy of Design, New York. Brooklyn Museum and traveled to sixteen museums and universities throughout the country. 1961 Featured in film Printmakers USA (with Lasansky, Moy. Peterdi and Worden Day) produced for international circulation by the United States Information Agency. Exhibition of gouaches at Staatliche Kunsthalle, Baden- 1984 Baden, Germany. Participated in 10 Prints by 10 American Artists organized by the American Federation of Arts for exhibition in Essay on Karl Schrag’s work by Bernard Malamud introducing the exhibition of paintings at Kraushaar Galleries. Evening lecture by the artist, Painting, the Inide. G^de. at Nev/ York’s Art Students League. 1947 First one-man exhibition of paintings at Kraushaar Galleries, New York, beginning an association which continues to the present. 1950 Director of Atelier 17. Daughter Katherine is born. 1952 Trip to France and Italy. Included in American Artists Under 40 chosen by William 5. Lieberman, print curator at the Museum of Modern Art, New York. Shown in Salzburg, Austria and Vienna's Secession Gallery. Interviewed by Dore Ashton on WNYC during 70 India. 1962 Under a grant from the Ford Foundation, spent two months at Tamarind Workshop, Los Angeles, with 19B7 related paintings at Associated American Artists Catalogue introduction, About Kar! Schrag, by S. W, Hayter. Albers and Diebenkorn. Served on National Screening Committee for Fu.bright 1962, 1965 Included in exhibition of American art at the Fc-A-g." AMuseum in Sofia. Bulgaria. The works in this exh.u.uor Awards for Study in the Held of Painting. Received Certificate of Merit from the India Fine Arts 1963 were donated to the Museum by the artists. Society at ceremony arranged by the American 1988 Federation of Arts. Summer in Mexico, mostly in Oaxaca. Retrospective exhibition of prints, monotypes and One-man show of prints at Elvehjem Museum, University of Wisconsin. Madison. �tition of paintings and prints at Kraushaar ies. led in Second International Exhibition of Drawings rints in Lugano. Switzerland. Four artists from rountry were chosen. The ocher American artists Louis Schanker, Armin Landeck and Adolph 1966 print acquired by the Museum of Modern Art, York. it Graphic Arts at Brooklyn College (replacing Seligman). and Letters. Exhibits print portfolio By the Sea at Kraushaar Galleries and at Associated American Artists, New York. (Portfolio acquired by National Gallery. Washington, D.C.. the Metropolitan Museum of Art and New York Public Library.) Trip to Martinique. The artist subsequently made trips to Jamaica. St. Bartholemy and Sanibel Island, Florida. 1971 The Newark Museum receives gift of a Karl Schrag painting from the American Academy of Arts and Letters. In 1978 another painting is given to the Springfield Art Museum, Missouri. Catalogue Raisonne of the Graphic Works, 1939-1970, published by Syracuse University. Catalogue introduction by Una E. Johnson. Karl Shrag print archive established at Syracuse University. 1971-72 Included in Tamarind, an exhibition circulated by the International Exhibitions Foundation. 1972 Retrospective exhibition of prints. National Collection of Fine Arts, Smithsonian Institution, Washington. D.C. 1973 Gives lecture at Sheldon Museum, University of Nebraska, Lincoln, and at the Joslyn Museum, Omaha, in conjunction with exhibition A Sense of Place. 1976 Included in American Prints, 1913 - 1963, the Museum of Modern Art, New York, which was circulated to major European museums. Included in Contemporary American Prints, Gifts of the Singer Collection, the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Commissioned by the Brooklyn Museum to make a print for fundraising. 1980 Honored, with the other members of the Advisory Board of New York Artists’ Equity, at a luncheon at New York's 67th Street Armory. 1981 Catalogue Raisonne of the Graphic Works, Part II, 19711980, published by Syracuse University. Catalogue introduction by August L. Freundlich. Elected Academician, National Academy of Design, New York. 1984 Essay on Karl Schrag’s work by Bernard Malamud introducing the exhibition of paintings at Kraushaar Galleries. Evening lecture by the artist. Painting, the Inside, Outside, led in 14 Printmakers, joint exhibition at Stable ;ry, Kraushaar Galleries and the Brooklyn urn. J faculty at Cooper Union and taught there until ded in Twenty American Drawings at the emporaries Gallery, New York (other artists ded Avery. Ben-Zion, David Smith and Grant in Art from American Academy of Arts owitz). esented in exhibition, Modern Art in the United ;, shown at Tate Gallery, London and, under the ces of the Museum of Modern Art, traveled to ■ European cities. 5 ded in Fifty American Drawings at the Brooklyn ium. to France, Germany and Spain. man exhibition of prints at Staatliche Kunsthalle, ruhe, Germany, and at Oslerreichisches Konsulat. n-Baden. Germany. of twelve American artists selected by the rican Federation of Arts, under a grant from the Foundation, for a retrospective exhibition and ograph (text by John Gordon, curator at the tney Museum of American Art). Exhibition of :y-five paintings and ten prints opened at the jklyn Museum and traveled to sixteen museums universities throughout the country. ured in film Printmakers USA (with Lasansky, Moy, rdi and Worden Day) produced for international ilation by the United States Information Agency, bition of gouaches at Staatliche Kunsthalle, Baden- en, Germany. icipated in 10 Prints by 10 American Artists organized he American Federation of Arts for exhibition in Print commissioned for members of the Madison Print Club. 1989 Recent paintings included in exhibition. The Painter and the Printmaker, at Associated American Artists. I99| One-man exhibition of paintings and prints at St. Botolph Club. Boston. Included in Artists Choice: Chuck Close, Head-On/The Modern Portrait, Museum of Modern Art. Nev/ York. Catalogue Raisonne of the Graphic Works, Part III, 19811990, published by Syracuse University. Catalogue introduction by Domenic J. lacono. In connection with this publication, one man show of paintings and prints at Syracuse University, Syracuse. New York. Print commissioned for members of the Cleveland Print Club, Ohio. Participated in Twining Gallery forum, Enduring Creativity, with Dorothy Dehner, Herman Cherry and Mildred Constantine. 1992 Retrospective exhibition of paintings and prints organized by the Farnsworth Art Museum, Rockland. Maine. at New York's Art Students League. ier a grant from the Ford Foundation, spent two nths at Tamarind Workshop, Los Angeles, with 1987 ers and Diebenkorn. ved on National Screening Committee for Fulbright rards for Study in the Field of Painting. ceived Certificate of Merit from the India Fine Arts ciety at ceremony arranged by the American deration of Arts. mmer in Mexico, mostly in Oaxaca. 1987 Retrospective exhibition of prints, monotypes and related paintings at Associated American Artists. Catalogue introduction, About Karl Schrag, by S. W. Hayter. Included in exhibition of American art at the Foreign Art Museum in Sofia, Bulgaria. The works in this exhibition were donated to the Museum by the artists. 1988 One-man show of prints at Elvehjem Museum, University of Wisconsin, Madison. 71 �Lincoln National Corp., Fort Los Angeles County Museum of Ar:. Pu-ase Award. T^O^M^New^rk.19^1950. Lieber l960' i 963, Sonia Waiter Award. I964 . d Oakland. California. 1959. 1961. Certificate of Merit. 4th International Exhibition of Contemporary Art. New Delhi. India. 1962. Ford Foundation Fellowship for Study at Tamarind Nels^R^feXch^'lward for Painting. New York State Exposition. 1963. $2,500 Grant in Art American Academy of Arts and Letters, New York, 1966. Albion College Purchase Award, Albion, Michigan, 196b. Purchase Award, Childe Hassam Fund, American Academy of Arts and Letters, New York, 1970, 1974. 1977. Drawing Prize. Ball State University, Muncie, Indiana, 1970. Davidson College Purchase Award, Davidson. North Carolina, 1974. National Academy of Design, New York, First Benjamin Altman Prize for Landscape Painting. 1981, Landscape Prize, 1983, Carnegie Prize, 1986. Elected member of National Academy of Design. New York, 1981. Certificate of Merit, Government of Bulgaria, 1987. Grant, Richard A. Florsheim Art Fund, Florida, 1991. One of twelve American artists selected, in I960, by the American Federation of Arts, under a grant from the Ford Foundation, for a retrospective exhibition and monograph (text by John Gordon, Curator, Whitney Museum of American Art, New York). Exhibition of thirty-five paintings and ten prints opened at the Brooklyn Museum and traveled to sixteen museums and universities throughout the country. ONE PERSON EXHIBITIONS Galerie Arenberg, Brussels, Belgium, 1938 University of Alabama. 1949 Philadelphia Art Alliance. Pennsylvania, 1952 University of Maine, Orono, 1953. 1958 Oslerreichisches Konsulat, Baden-Baden. Germany, 1958 Staatliche Kunsthalle. Karlsruhe, Germany, 1958 State University of New York, Oneonta. 1953, 1959 Gesellschaft der Freundejunger Kunst, Baden-Baden Germany, 1958, 1961 W,s1° M0Unralnv,lle. New York. 1967 "T ,Fine Ar“' Smithsonian Institution, retrospective) Joseph I. Lubin House, Syracuse University, New York Cit ity. 1988 Associated American Artists, Nev/ York. 1971, (print retrospective) 1980, 1986, 1990 (monotypes) Jane Haslim Gallery. Washington. DC, 1989, i99i St. Botolph Club, Boston, Massachusetts. 1991 Lowe Art Gallery, Syracuse University, New York, 1981. 1991 Kraushaar Galleries, New York, 1947, 1950, 1952, 1956 1959 1962, 1964, 1966, 1968, 1971. 1975, 1977. 1979. 1982 1984, 1986, 1989, 1991. PERMANENT COLLECTIONS Achenbach Foundation, The Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco, California University of Alabama Anchorage Museum of History and Art, Alaska ARA Services, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania The Art Institute of Chicago, Illinois Atlanta University, Georgia Bates College, Museum of Art, Lewiston, Maine Bergen Museum of Art & Science, Paramus, New Jersey Bethlehem City Center, Pennsylvania Bibliotheque Nationale, Paris, France Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, Massachusetts Bradley University, Peoriar-Illinois Rose Art Museum, Brandeis University, Waltham, Massachusetts The British Museum. London, England The Brooklyn Museum, New York Butler Institute of American Art, Youngstown, Ohio Grunwald Center for the Graphic Arts, University of California, Los Angeles Canton Art Institute, Ohio Central National Bank of Cleveland, Ohio Cleveland Museum of Art, Ohio Colby College Museum of Art, Waterville, Maine Columbus Museum, Georgia Columbus Museum of Art, Ohio Commerce Trust Co., Kansas City Coos Art Museum, Coos Bay, Oregon Hood Art Museum, Dartmouth College, Hanover, New Hampshire Detroit Institute of Arts, Michigan Everson Museum of Art, Syracuse, New York The Farnsworth Art Museum, Rockland, Maine Free Library of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania Georgetown University, Art and History Museum. Washington, DC Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum. New York Joseph H. Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden, Washington. DC Krannert Art Museum, University of Illinois. Champaign Joslyn Art Museum. Omaha. Nebraska LaSalle University. Art Museum, Philadelphia. Penny v Lehigh University Art Galleries. Bethlehem. Pennsypan­ Library of Congress. Washington. DC Lincoln Life Insurance Company. Nebraska 11 . University of Maine The Metropolitan Museum of Art. r-; . Minnesota Museum of Art. Sa nt P-l University of Minnesota. University Art M. University of Missouri. Museum of Art and Columbia Munson-Williams-Proccor Institute. Utica. The Museum of Modern Art, New York National Gallery of Art. Washington. DC National Museum of American Art. Washi Sheldon Memorial Art Gallery. University The Newark Museum. New Jersey New York Public Library Oakland Art Museum. California Palmer Museum of Art. Pennsylvania State University Park Philadelphia Museum of Art, Pennsylvania Portland Museum of Art. Maine Museum of Art, Rhode Island School of D Memorial Art Gallery. University of Roche Rockefeller University. Nev/ York Jane Voorhees Zimmerli Art Museum. Rui New Brunswick. New Jersey Salomon Brothers. Inc.. New York Museum of Fine Arts. Springfield. Massach Springfield Art Museum, Missouri Saint Louis Art Museum. Missouri Scaatliche Kunsthalle, Karlsruhe. Germany Stanford University Art Gallery. Palo Alto Syracuse University, New York State University of New York, Oswego Uffizi Gallery, Florence. Italy Victoria and Albert Museum, London, Eng Wadsworth Atheneum, Hartford. Connec Whitney Museum of American Arc, Nev/ Wichita Art Museum, Kansas Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut PUBLICATIONS WITH PRINTS BY KARL SCHI Stevenson, Robert L. The Suicide Club. Pie 21 limited edition. and Poems. introduction by Jan Sweeney. Morris Gallery, 1959. y the Seo, 1966. A portfolio with eighteel poem by the artist. ARTICLES BY KARL SC ■Some Thoughts on Art." The Cable. Stud. Cooper Union, 1958. "ThPPAneSS and Torment of Printmaking,'' e Art,st Alone vs. the Artist in the Wi "Liohn“er3'IX 17!0^;,£- Autumn 1967. Volts got and Darkness in Contemporary Pri Prmr 7 PraCt GraP*>ics Center. 1977 ectors’ Newsletter, Vol. XVII. no I. �Kornbluth Gallery, Fairlawn. New Jersey. 1987 Elveh|em Museum, Madison, Wisconsin, 1988 (print retrospective) Joseph I. Lubin House. Syracuse University. New York City l9Se Associated American Artists. New York. 1971, (prjnt retrospective) 1980, 1986. 1990 (monotypes) Jane Haslim Gallery, Washington. DC 1989. 1991 St Botolph Club. Boston, Massachusetts. 1991 Lowe Art Gallery. Syracuse University. New York. 1981, 1991 Kraushaar Galleries. New York. 1947. 1950. 1952. I9S6. 1959 I96Z 1964. 1966. 1968. 1971. 1975. 1977. 1979, 1982. 1984, 1986. 1989, 1991. Lincoln National Corp., Fort Wayne, Indiana Los Angeles County Museum of Art, California PERMANENT COLLECTIONS Achenbach Foundation, The Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco, California University of Alabama Anchorage Museum of History and Art, Alaska ARA Services. Philadelphia. Pennsylvania The Art Institute of Chicago. Illinois Atlanta University, Georgia Bates College, Museum of Art. Lewiston. Maine Bergen Museum of Art & Science, Paramus, New Jersey Bethlehem City Center, Pennsylvania Bibliotheque Nationale, Paris, France Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. Massachusetts Bradley University. Peona. Illinois Rose Art Museum, Brandeis University. Waltham, Massachusetts The British Museum. London. England The Brooklyn Museum, New York Butler Institute of American Art. Youngstown. Ohio Grunwald Center for the Graphic Arts, University of California. Los Angeles Canton Art Institute, Ohio Centra! National Bank of Cleveland. Ohio Cleveland Museum of Art, Ohio Colby College Museum of Art, Waterville, Maine Columbus Museum, Georgia Columbus Museum of Art. Ohio Commerce Trust Co.. Kansas City Coos Art Museum. Coos Bay. Oregon Hood Art Museum. Dartmouth College. Hanover. New Hampshire Detroit Institute of Arts. Michigan Everson Museum of Art. Syracuse, New York The Farnsworth Art Museum. Rockland. Maine Free Library of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania Georgetown University. Art and History Museum, Washington, DC Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum. New York Joseph H. Hirshhom Museum and Sculpture Garden. Washington, DC Krar.nert Art Museum, University of Illinois, Champaign Joslyn Art Museum, Omaha. Nebraska LaSalle University, Art Museum. Philadelphia. Pennsylvania Lehigh University Art Galleries, Bethlehem, Pennsylvania Lenity of Congress, Washington. DC Lincoln Life Insurance Company, Nebraska J 1 University of Maine The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York Minnesota Museum of Art, Saint Paul University of Minnesota, University Art Museum, Minneapolis University of Missouri, Museum of Art and Archeology. Columbia Munson-Williams-Proctor Institute, Utica, New York The Museum of Modern Art, New York National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC National Museum of American Art, Washington, DC Sheldon Memorial Art Gallery, University of Nebraska, Lincoln The Newark Museum, New Jersey New York Public Library Oakland Art Museum, California Palmer Museum of Art, Pennsylvania State University, University Park Philadelphia Museum of Art, Pennsylvania Portland Museum of Art, Maine Museum of Art, Rhode Island School of Design, Providence Memorial Art Gallery, University of Rochester, New York Rockefeller University, New York Jane Voorhees Zimmerli Art Museum, Rutgers University. New Brunswick, New Jersey Salomon Brothers, Inc., New York Museum of Fine Arts, Springfield, Massachusetts Springfield Art Museum, Missouri Saint Louis Art Museum, Missouri Staatliche Kunsthalle, Karlsruhe, Germany Stanford University Art Gallery, Palo Alto. California Syracuse University, New York State University of New York, Oswego Uffizi Gallery, Florence, Italy Victoria and Albert Museum, London, England Wadsworth Atheneum, Hartford. Connecticut Whitney Museum of American Art, New York Wichita Art Museum, Kansas Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut PUBLICATIONS WITH ORIGINAL PRINTS BY KARL SCHRAG Stevenson, Robert L, The Suicide Club, Pierre Beres, 1941, limited edition. 21 Etchings and Poems, introduction by James Johnson Sweeney, Morris Gallery, 1959. B/ the Sea, 1966. A portfolio with eighteen etchings and a poem by the artist. ARTICLES BY KARL SCHRAG Some Thoughts on Art," The Cable, Student Yearbook of Cooper Union, 1958. appiness and Torment of Printmaking,” Artist’s Proof, 1966. ne Artist Alone vs. the Artist in the Workshop,” New .... ~™-'ersrty Thought, Autumn 1967, Volume 5, Number 4. 'J t and Darkness in Contemporary Printmaking,” Print Renew 7, Pratt Graphics Center. 1977. on Collectors' Newsletter, Vol. XVII. no I, March-April 1986. BOOKS ED BIBLI°GRAFHV Acton. David, C. Adams & K F B»all A '89°~Kew “l 985reSS,°nS- Cr°US^^’Sfty’prMsJ1Lwidonn'970In^ Alfred K"°Pf‘ Oxford Cummings, Paul. Dictionoty of Contemporary Amencon Anw St Martins Press. New York 1966 '“York6 Van N°Strand Reinh0ld C°” EiC ¥0^1976°' Th£ °r,he Prin‘’ H’rry N'AbramS- New Esposito, Carla. Hayter & Atelier 17, Electa. Milan, 1990. FaUxA?er’ 3nd Ziegfe,dl EdwinToday, Holt. Rinehart & Winston. New York. 1969. Gordon, John, Karl Schrog, American Federation of Arts. I960. Gussow, Alan, A Sense of Place: The Artist and the American Land, Friends of the Earth Series, The Saturday Review Press, New York. 1971. Hayter, Stanley W., Nev/ Ways of Gravure, Pantheon, New York. 1949. -------------------About Prints, Oxford University Press, London. 1962. Hofer, Phillip. The Artist and the Book 1860-1960, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, 1961. Johnson, Una, Drawings of the Masters: 20th Century Drawings. Part II, Shorewood Publishers, 1964. ________ . 10 American Printmakers, United States Information Agency, 1964. , American Prints and Printmakers, Doubleday & Co., Garden City, New York, 1980. Lieberman, William, and V. Allen, Tamannd: Homage to Lithography, The Museum of Modern Art, 1969. Moser, Joann G., Atelier 17, University of Wisconsin. Madison, 1977. Peterdi, Gabor, Printmoking, Macmillan Publishing Company. New York. 1959. Reese, Albert, American Prize Prints of the 20th Century, American Artists Group, Inc., New York. 1949. Ross, John, Claire Romano and Jim Ross. The Complete Printmaker, The Free Press. New York, 1990. Rugoff, Milton (ed). Encyclopedia ofAmerican Art, E.P. Dutton. New York, 1981. Skolnick, Arnold, (ed). Introduction by Carl Little, Paintings of Maine Clarkson Potter/Publishers. New York. 1991. Syracuse University. Karl Schrog A Catalogue Raisonne of the Graphic Works, 1939-1970, Syracuse. New York. 1971. introduction by Una E. Johnson. Karl Schrog: A Catalogue Raisonne of the Graphc Works, 1971-1980. Syracuse. New York. 1981. introduction by AugustL Freund Cawlogue Raixnne of the G-aphc Wifa’l 981-1990, Syracuse. New York. 1991. introduction �by Domenic J. lacono. Zigrosser, Carl, The Book ofFine Prints (revised edition), Crown Publishers, New York, 1956. . Arts in the United States, Graphic Arts in the 20th Century, McGraw Hill. New York, I960. PERIODICALS A.C., Le Monde, January 31, 1951. A.N.. “Karl Schrag." Uffizi, March 1983. Allen. Henry, "A Printmaker in Retrospect," The Washington Post, January 8, 1972. Archives ofAmerican Arc Journal, Vol 24. no 1, 1984. Art News, November 1968; “The Vasari Diary, October 1985. Arts, Summer 1970; 1975; September 1984. Ashton, Dore, Art Digest, 1954. , “The Situation in Printmaking," Arts. October 1955. Broner, Robert, Detroit Sunday Times, February 21, I960. Burnside, Madeline, "Karl Schrag, Review of Exhibition." Art News, May 1976. Surrey, Suzanne, "A Decade of American Printmaking," Arts, May 1956. , “Karl Schrag, Movement Above and Below," Arts, June 1956. Burrows, Carlyle, New York Herald Tribune, January 12, 1947. , New York Herald Tribune, February 6, 1955. Canady, John, The New York Times, March 4, 1964. , The New York Times, June 20, 1971. Carlson, Helen, New York Sun, January 10, 1947. Coates, Robert M. "Whitney Annual," The New Yorker, April 28, 1956. , "Brooklyn Watercolor Exhibition,” The New Yorker, April 20. 1957. Cochrane, Diane, "Karl Schrag: On Landscape," American Artist, November 1976. Cullinan. Helen, “Expressionists are Triple Treat,” The Plain Dealer, Cleveland, Ohio, March 1990. Devree, Howard, The New York Times, January 12, 1947. , The New York Times, November 9, 1952. . The Nev/ York Times, June I, 1956. Elkoff, Marvin, “Collecting Original Prints,” Holiday, February 1966. Genauer, Emily, New York World Telegram, January 11,1947. Hall, Dorothy, "Schrag at Kraushaar," Park East, May 1984. Hayter, S. W., Introduction to Exhibition, Associated American Artists, New York. 1986. Heller, Alex. "Contemporary Painting I,” Critique, January 1947. Hunnewell, Richard F., “Schrag at Kraushaar," ArtlWorld, November 1986. Jacks, Shirley, "Getting Maine on Canvas,” Down East, September 1990. Johnson, Una, “Contemporary American Drawings," Perspectives USA, Autumn 1955. Kessler, Pamela. "Karl Schrag. from Hitler to Vibrant Seas,” Washington Post, Feb. 19, 1988. Keyishian, M. Deiter, "Karl Schrag.” Arts, 1982. ... "Karl Schrag," Art News, March 1991. Kramer. Hilton, “Pictures on Exhibit," The New York Times November 16. 1968. . Karl Schrag.’ The New York Times, February 1975. 74 L. H.G., "Schrag at Kraushaar,” Park East, No.emb.-, , "Schrag at Kraushaar.” Park East, January 198^ Levy. Stephanie Mackay. “Karl Schrag: Art and Serio,.- La- -l-ter*’ Preview!, Ellsworth. Maine. August 3 - 10, 1990. Little, Carl, “Karl Schrag." Arts, May 1984. . "Karl Schrag at Kraushaar." Art in America. March 1989 Malamud, Bernard. Introduction to Exhibition. Krau:var Galleries, New York, May 1984. McBride, Henry, New York Sun, March 26. 1948. Mellow, James, "14 Painter-Printmakers," Arts. December 1955. _>"Schrag Exhibition at the Smithsonian." Art News. November 1945. Panczenko. Russell, The Eivehjem Museum of Art Scene, University of Wisconsin - Madison, Vol 4, no 2. 1988. Pincus-Witten. Robert, “Karl Schrag. Exhibition Review," Art Forum, June 1971. . "Karl Schrag. Exhibition Review," An Forum. February 1972. Preston, Stewart, The Nev/ York Times. February 26. 1950. Raynor. Vivien. The New York Times (Nev/ Jersey edition). March 6, 1988. Reed, Judith Kaye. Art Digest, March I, 1950. Secunda, Arthur. "Tamarind," Artforum, 1962, vol. I, no. 3. Tillim, Sidney. "Karl Schrag," Arts, March 1959. , “Karl Schrag," Arts, April 1962. Weeks. Dan, “Late-In-Life Passion." Traditional Home, March 1992. Willard, Charlotte, "Eye for I (Self-Portraits by Contemporary Artists)," Art in America, March - April 1966. Young. Vernon, “14 Painter Printmakers." Arts, May - June 1957. . “Trends in Watercolors Today, Italy and the US,” Arts. May 1957. ________ , "The Double Craft: Two American PainterPrintmakers." Kunst, Copenhagen. Denmark, 1958. no. I. SELECTED GROUP EXHIBITIONS Whitney Museum of American Art, New York, Annual Exhibition. 1941. 1951, 1953. 1954, 1955, 1957, I960. 1961. 1962, 1963, 1965. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Artists for Victory, 1942. Worcester Museum of Art. Massachusetts, 1947. The Brooklyn Museum. New York, Print Annual, 1947 and annually thereafter. Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, Philadelphia. 1947, 1949. 1951, 1952, 1953, 1956, 1957, 1958, 1959. 1961-1969. The Art Institute of Chicago, Illinois, Abstract and Surrealist American Art, 1947. Montclair Art Museum, New Jersey, Annual Exhibition, 1948, 1952. 1954. University of Indiana, 1949. Petit Palais, Paris. France. Exposition Internationale de la Gravure Contemporaire, 1949. University of Illinois, Urbana, Illinois. Drawings, i 950. Toledo Museum of Art. Ohio. 1950. 1969. Virginia Museum of Art. 1950. Grace Borgenicht Gallery, New York. Atelier 17, 1951. The Museum of Modern Art, New York, 25th Anniversary Exhibition of American Prints of the 20th Century, 1951. The Art Institute of Chicagc i The Metropolitan Museum Watercolors. Drawings a- . •: ■ - - Exhibition. ,9^2. Kunstorerferbundet. Oslo. Sv,.Philadelphia Museum of A' t. '■ ■ ' California Palace of the Logic-- c’ •:•. S. Franc s; Annual Exhibition of Contend' r, Ameren Pc.-nnr»g William Rockhill Neison G ’:•/ • C.ry. Msso.; 1952. 1953. The Brooklyn Museum New ' * .'-iiema! jnal Wo?? Exhibition, 1953. 1955 University of Nebraska. 1953 Albany Institute, New Yorl 1953. The Museum of Modern Art. New York. 1953 Los Angeles County Museum of Art. California. Rt'cei Acquisitions. 1954 Musee Nationals d'Arr Modcrne, Paris, France. Conte Drawing in the United States. 1954. Parrish Museum. Southampton. New York 1954 Dayton Art Institute, Ohio. 1954, 1956. Illinois Wesleyan University, Bloomington 1954, 196 University of Illinois, Graphic Arts - USA 1954 Butler Institute of American Art, Youngstown. Ohio, Exhibition, 1955. 1956, 1961. 1965. 1967. 1969. 1 The Museum of Modern Art, New York, Drawings, I Guild Hall, Wagner College. Staten Island, Nev/ Yorl Schrag & Richard Zoellner, 1955. Tecolote Book Shop, Santa Barbara. California, Karl ‘ Andree Rucllan. 1956 Tate Gallery. London. England, Modern An in the Unit States, 1956. Montclair Art Museum. New jersey. Drawing. 1956 Museum of Art. Pennsylvania State University, Colle; Pennsylvania. 1956 Musee d'Art. Strasbourg, France. Dessms AmMcains Conternporains, 1956. The Brooklyn Museum, New York, Golden fear- of fl Drawings 1905 - 1956. Trends tn Watercolor Today, United States, 1957. Galleria Nationals d'Arte Moderns, Rome. Italy, Cun Graphic Art in trie United States, 1957. University of Illinois. 50 American Printmakers, 1958. Tweed Gallery, University of Minnesota, 1958. Ohio Wesleyan University, Delaware, Ohio. I959. Renaissance Society University of Chicago, Illinois I Staten Island Institute of Arts and Science, New Yor I960, 1962 Yale University Art Gallery, New Haven, Connectici American Prints, 1950- I960. I960. Whitney Museum of American Art. New York. 30’h Exhibition. American Art of Our Century, 196! Coiumb-a University, New York. Unique impress Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, Massachusetts, :4:h A Print Exhibition. 196 L Boston Arts Festival. Massachusetts 1961. Contemporary Arts Center,. Cincinnati Art Museum Oh>o. 1961. 1963. Pfatt Graphic Center. New York, 35 Prize W^r.r.gfl Pnnts, 1962. �4 : institute of Chicago. Illinois. Draw.ngs, 1952, 1954. T’-s Mctrcpci.nn Museum of Art. New York. American ?-s. Draw ngs end Prints. A National Competitive DdAitibn. 1951 xOslo, Sweden. New American Graphics. 1952 71 Museum of Art. Pennsylvania, Print Exhibition. 1952. * Park East. November lQB6 East January 1989. rag: Art and Serious Laughter ” ust3 - 10, 1990. y 1984. ‘ Art in America. March {9£9 > Exhibition, Kraushaar L -x-r.-Ja Palace of the Legion of Honor, San Francisco. 5th Ex*- bi&on of Contemporary American Pointing. 1952. V,7 Er Rockhill Nelson Gallery. Kansas City. Missouri. rch 26, 1948. akers.” Arts, December 1955 > Smithsonian.” Art News. 1952-1953. Brooklyn Museum. New York. International V\ aterco’or EvWwn. 1953. 1955. University of Nebraska, 1953. Albany Institute, New York, 1953. Museum of Modem Art. New York, 1953. Les Angeles County Museum of Art. California. Recent Arc-s’: ms. 1954. b’usee NEtiona e d’Art Modems. Paris. France, Contemporary u? tire f-.tec States. 1954. =zmsh Museum. Southampton, New York. 1954. Zh-.-xn Ar: institute. Ohio. 1954. j 956. -ais Aesievan UrrSfersity. B’oommgton, 1954. 1968. _ -versity c4’. nois. Grep-.:C Arts - USA 1954. B_t=- hsEtuffi of American Art. Youngstown. Ohio, Annual Ex-otor 1955. 1956. 1961. 1965. 1967. 1969, 1970. The Musam of Modem Art. New York. Drawings, 1955. 3_ r . Wagner Co. ege. Smen island. New York, Karl Irrtg i Richard Zzeiine’. 1955. “eccitne Book Shop. Santa Barbara. California, Karl Schrag & -rr~r_=.~, 1956 're Ga =-•. London. England. Modem Art in the United Srt-s. .=56. luseum ofArt Scene, sen. Vol 4. no 2. i 98S. ig. Exhibition Review,” Art i Review.” An Fcrum, nes, February 26. 1950. s (New jersey edition k h 1. 1950. 'rum, 1962. vol. *. no. 3. larch 1959. il 1962. ” Trcditc.iG/ Home, ■Pcrtra ts by Contemporary -April 1966. takers," Ans. Ma;- - June 5 957. s Today, Italy and the US o American Patrrteren. Denmark, 1958.no • EXHIBITIONS „ New York.. Annual 954. 1955. 1957. '960. New York. MarttiaY Arc Muu=_t~.. New jersey. Drawing, 1956. ’•'uisur- of .Art. Pennsylvania State University, College Park, r=r-t¥ ‘956. t Art. Strasbourg, France, Dessins Americains _ 1956. ’ he s'cs . r-: M useum York, Golden Years of American 9C5 - 1 956, Trends in Watercolor Today, Italy •>t»d States 1957. Ga =-a \-t_crttie d Arte Modems, Rome, Italy, Contemporary Art United States, 1957. z: -rzz. 59 American Printmakers, 1958. *eed Gale-y. Ln. -e.-tny of Mmnesota, i958. c Weceyzr. U^^erz.zy Delaware, Ohio, 1959. zh’jsetcs, 1947. . Print Annual. 1947 ar.c Arcs. Philadelphia 1947, .949 8 958. 1959. 1961-1969. is Abrtrcrt and Surrey, st •'fatsa’-ce Society, Un.versity of Chicago. Illinois, 1959. -tzter. : Institute of Arts and Science, New York. 1959, 56: .962 7' ferc ty Art Gai’ery. t4ew Haven, Connecticut, y. Annual Exhib :t*on. n. Internationale de <959-1960, I960. *'1' r-ey Museum Amer.can A.rt Tlew York. 30th Anniversary Erl. An-er car Ar. af Century, 1961. Gzcr-ife York. 25th Anniversary he 20th Century. 195 i Watercolor Biennial 1963 ' 22 d ,nIe™"onol Pro^7^b'Rhodels,and'K-*™^ of£e2M &XT 1967; DrX"l967Maine' ' °° PnntS Des Moines Art Center. Iowa, 1965 Salle Dalles, Bucharest, Romania. 50 Prints by SO Contemporary Whitney Museum of American Art. New York, A Decode of American Drawings, 1955- 1965, 1965. The Secession Gallery, Vienna, Austria, 50 Prints by 50 American Artists, 1965. National Institute of Arts and Letters, New York, An Exhibition of Contemporary Painting, Sculpture and Graphic Art, 1966. American Academy of Arts and Lecters, National Institute of Arts and Letters. New York. Exhibition of Works by Newly Elected Members and Recipients of Honors and Awards, 1966. Procter Art Center. Bard College. New York, First National Print Exhibition, 1966. Saint Paul Art Center, Minnesota, Third Biennial Exhibition Drawings USA ‘66, 1966. Storm King Art Center, Mountainville, New York. 79 Original Drawings by 20th Century American Artists, 1966. Philadelphia Museum of Art, Pennsylvania. Prints of Two Worlds, 1967. Vancouver Art Gallery, British Columbia, Canada, Vancouver Print International, 1967. Norfolk Museum of Arts and Sciences, Virginia, American Drawing Biennial, 1967, 1969. Storm King Art Center, Mountainville, New York, Still Life, 1967. Wichita Art Museum, Kansas, 1968. Rijbsacademie, Amsterdam. The Netherlands, 28 Contemporary American Graphic Artists, 1968. The Brooklyn Museum, New York. 30 Years of Collecting Prints and Drawings, 1969. Art Gallery, Ball State University. Muncie. Indiana, 1969. Kent State University. Ohio, 3rd Kent State University Exhibition, 1969. New Jersey State Museum, Trenton, Color Prints of the Americas (American Color Print Society), 1970. 7*. .ers;t/. New fork, Ur<.aje Impret'.'ons, 1961. -:--r cf Fme An: Boston. Massachutens, I4rh Annual »s. Drowfngs. I95C. C, 1969. ' jrk. Ateher /7, 1951. Americanlp°nB7od^'|9«bri‘lgC' Massachus«B. _^n. 1961. Festival. Matsat-husetts. 1961. p -'r"Ar'r-zry Arts Ccmcr, Cincinnati Art Museum, 96:, 1963 Cemcr: New York, 35 Prize Winning American 19^,2 GSffio* O»V*on. Nonh Corolln,. Dowdson Nationai Print and Drawing Competition. 97 �Arc Museum. South Hadley. Massachusetts, Notional Prints CHECKLIST OF Unless otherwise noted Kraushaar Galleries, New 1963. 1976. Exhibition traveled abroad, including Albertina, Vienna, Austria. The Metropolitan Museum of Art. New York. Contemporary American Prints. Gifts from the Singer Collection, 1976. The Brooklyn Museum. New York, 30 Years ofAmerican 2. Landscape with Fruit, 1950 oil on masonice. 4g x 48 inches Collection of Dr Peter Schrag and Katherine Schrag-Wangh 3. Wind, Wave and Tree. 1955 oil on canvas, 34 x 45 inches Collection of Katherine Schrag-Wangh Atelier 17, 1977. National Academy of Design, New York, Annual Exhibition, Artists, 1980. The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Prints: Acquisitions Montserrat, 1958 gouache. 38 x 26 inches Collection of the Whitney Museum of Am Purchase, with funds from the Friends of t Museum of American Art 1977-81, 1981. Associated American Artists, New York, 50 Years ofFine Prints, 1984. Maine Coast Artists, Rockport, Maine. The Founders, 1984. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, In Pursuit of Abstraction - American Prints 1930 - 1950, 1986. Mary Ryan Gallery, New York, Atelier 17, 1986. Gallery 68, Belfast, Maine, Karl Schrag, Master Printmaker, 1987. Krasdale Foods Gallery, Bronx Museum of the Arcs, New York. In the Country, 1987. Foreign Art Museum, Sofia, Bulgaria, American Exhibition, 1987. The works in this exhibition were donated to the Museum by the artists. Associated American Artists, New York, The Painter and the Printmaker, 1989. American Embassy, Sarajevo. Yugoslavia, New American Graphics, curated by Joann G. Moser. 1989. The Noyes Museum, Oceanville. New Jersey, Artists' Gardens, 1990. Scheele Galleries, Cleveland. Ohio. Karl Schrag, Syd Solomon and Irving Kriesberg, 1990. The Farnsworth Art Museum. Rockland. Maine. Gardens - Real and Imagined, 1990. Sylvan Cole Gallery, New York. Prints reproduced in The Complete Printmaker, 1990. Twining Gal^ry New York. The Nude: Drawings of the Figure by the New York School Artists, 1991 g Ma7wzni i".ery'New York'Greot American Prints- 1915- ’ Artist with Paper Hcl 194 i oil on canvas. 35 x 25 mJ.es Collection of Dr. Peter Schrag Printmaking, 1976. Elvehjem Museum of Art, University of Wisconsin, Madison, 1978, and annually thereafter. University of Delaware, Wilmington, Distinguished Mid-Atlantic -G; 5. The Middle Years, 1961 oil on canvas, 26 x 36 inches Collection of Katherine Schrag-Wangh 6. Blue Apple Tree—White Sky, 1965 oil on canvas, 32 x 44 inches Collection of Colby College Museum of A Gift of Mr. George Daly The Ladder (Self-Portrait). 1969 oil on canvas, 36 x 32 inches Collection of Jean and Raymond V.j. Schra 8. Red Sun and Silence, 1971 gouache. 26 x 38 inches Collection of Dr. and Mrs. Julian Hyman 9. Meadow in Moonlight, 1971 oil on canvas. 38 x 42 inches Collection of Jud. th Pitt 10. Maine Coast Artists, Rockport, Maine, Recent Work by Senior __ Statesmen, 1991. The Museum of Modern Art. New York, Artists Choice: Chuck Close, Head-On/ The Modern Portrait, 1991. Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, Massachusetts. Modern Printed Portraits, 1991. Seventeen Night Figures, 1973 oil on canvas. 50 x 38 inches Self-Portrait, Paintings and Windows, 1973 oil on canvas, 71 x 40 inches Collection of National Academy of Design 12. Summer—Apple Tree and Yellow House, I9i oil on canvas. 50 x 58 inches Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Fred Schrag 13. Dark Branches and Sunny Meadow (I. 1976 oil on canvas. 42 x 50 inches Collection of Dr. and Mrs. Peter Schrag 76 �CHECKLIST OF PAINTINGS 14. Unless otherwise noted, al! paintings courtesy Kraushaar Galleries, New York City I. 4 Late Summer Night, 1977 oil on canvas, 50 x 50 inches Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Richard Braunstein 16. Park Toward Evening, Jamaica, 1978 gouache, 31 1/8 x 43 inches Collection of The Brooklyn Museum, Gift of the Artist 17. Island Night, 1978 oil on canvas, 48 x 54 inches Collection of The Farnsworth Art Museum. Gift of Paul J. Schrag 18. Self-Portrait—Night, 1980-81 oil on canvas, 50 x 40 inches Collection of The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Gift of Henry and Margo Samton 19. The Green Night, 1982 oil on canvas, 40 x 50 inches Collection of Mrs. Ruth W. B. Pot )tter 20. Night Woods with Apple Tree, 1983 oil on canvas, 50 x 40 inches Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Richard Braunstein 21. Barn Door and Moonlit Field, 1984-85 oil on board, 38 x 26 inches Collection of Michael and Jeanne Bernkopf 22. In the Forest—The Artist and His Wife, 1987 oil on canvas, 50 x 40 inches Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Lucien Goldschmidt 23. Self-Portrait with Candle, 1987 oil on canvas, 40 x 30 inches 24. Night Silence I, 1987 oil on canvas, 34 x 40 inches Collection of the artist 25. Midsummer Night, 1988 oil on canvas, 40 x 50 inches 26. Flowering Plant at Night, 1988 oil on board, 26 x 29 inches Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Sidney Sass Sef-Foftrart, Pa r togs and Windows, 1973 o 1 on car /as. 71 x 40 inches Co ection of National Academy of Design 27. September, 1989 oil on canvas, 30 x 36 inches Collection of Mr. and Mrs. John S. Ames III Summer — Apple Tftt and Yellow House, 1975-76 28. Sultry Night, 1989 gouache, 26 x 38 inches Collection of Mrs. Max M. Stern A •is! t'.th Paper Hat 1941 c' cn canvas, 35 x 25 inches Collection of Dr. Peter Schrag .V-c. tow and Tree. 1955 o-: on canvas. 34 x 45 inches Co. ecoon cf Katherine Schrag-Wangh .V.srtsemst 1958 gouache, 38 x 26 inches Co. ecscn. of the Whitney Museum of American Art, Purchase. with funds from the Friends of the Whitney Museum of American Art 5. ~e Yeses, 1961 ou on canvas, 26 x 36 inches Collector} of Katherine Schrag-Wangh 6. £ j= AppJe Tree—White Sky, 1965 c or. carr/as. 32 x 44 inches Co -Section of Coiby College Museum of Art, Gift of Mr. George Daly T-e Ladder Seif-Pcrtroit/, 1969 o.j on canvas, 36 x 32 inches Co' ectcn ofJean and Raymond V.J. Schrag 8 Red Sun end S ience, 1971 gotacne, 26 x 38 inches Co-lecDor. of Dr. and Mrs. Julian Hyman Meudow ;n A'ocr ‘gr.t, i 971 o.i or canvas. 38 z 42 inches CoUectior of Judith Pitt Se.erCf*'- N grt Figures, 1973 o. on canvas, 50 z 38 inches ii. 12 r- ■ on canvas. 50 / 58 inches Co'lecfon of Mr. and Mrs. Fred Schrag ;3 Robert Cochrane IS. Landscape « th Fruit, 1950 o l on masonite. 48 x 43 inches Collection of Dr. Peter Schrag and Katherine Schrag-Wangh 3. Red Earth, Blue Distance, 1976 gouache, 26 x 38 inches Collection of Mr. and Mrs. fork nnd Sunn/ Meadow II, 1976 <- on canvas, 42 / 59 inches Co leston of Dr. and Mrs. Pr ter Schrag 29 Self-Portrait with Pine Tree, 1989 Oil on canvas. 40 x 34 inches Collection of Mr. Jeffrey Stark �The Influence of the Moon, 1950 etching, engraving and aquatint in two colors on cop edition of 30, 19x25 [National Gallery of Art] Self-Portrait with Bathers, 1990 oil on canvas. 26 x 40 inches 30. Dawn, Noon and Night, 1990 oil on canvas, 48 x 60 inches 31. The Sound of the Sea, 1958 etching and aquatint in four colors on copper, edition of 50, 20 x 28 [Philadelphia Museum of Art] 8. Nightfall. Night and Morning, 1990 oil on canvas. 40 x 50 inches Collection of SkyTell Corp. 32. Dark Trees at Noon, 1961 etching, engraving and aquatint in five colors on copper and zinc, edition of 50, 25 x 19 [The Museum of Modern Art] 9. 33. Midsummer, 1990 oil on canvas. 40 x 40 inches 34. Infinity, 1990 oil on canvas, 40 x 50 inches 35. Red Tree—Full Moon, 1990 oil on canvas. 40 x 40 inches Overgrown Path, 1962 lithograph in six colors on stone and zinc, edition of 30, 36 1/2 x 22 3/4 [The Museum of Modern Art. The Art Institute of 10. 19. Night Sky-—0* -■ lithograph, hand . edition of 40. 23 - 20. Sound of a Fo: : .. . • etching and aq j ? . ■ s.x c. ?rs on 2.nt anc| COD£3F. edition of 40. 18 x 24 21. Autumn Wind and '.-j, ;. 1988 lithograph in (out colors, edition of 60, 20 x 24 [The Farnsworth Art Museum] 22. At Night—Tib! Arlr.t and Hu Wife. 1989 lithograph, edition of 50. 26 x 17 3/4 23. Night Cloud, Land and Water, 1989 monotype, unique. 18 diameter 24. Late in Life Passion, 1990 etching and aquatint on zinc, hand-colored by the artist, edition of 40. 20 x 14 25. Flowering Tree- -Moonlight, 1990 lithograph, edition of 260, 19 x 18 [Cleveland Museum of Art] Chicago] 36. The Big Canvas, 1990 oil on canvas, 40 x 50 inches 37. Of Time and Mood, 1991 oil on canvas, 35 x 50 inches 38. Night Time, 1991 oil on canvas, 32 x 40 inches Pond in a Forest, 1962 lithograph in two colors on stone, edition of 35. 36 x 17 1/2 [The Museum of Modern Art, The Art Institute of Chicago. Los Angeles County Museum of Art] II 12. Self-Portrait, 1963 aquatint on zinc, edition of 50. 24 x 20 [The Museum of Modern Art] CHECKLIST OF PRINTS: 13. All prints in the exhibition (with the exception of #16) are from the artist's collection; public collections which have impressions of the prints are indicated in brackets. All dimensions given in inches. I. 14. Persecution, 1940 etching and aquatint on zinc, edition of 75. 12x12 3. Solace, 1944 aquatint on zinc, edition of 50, 10x12 [National Museum of American Art] The Two of Us, 1945 monotype, unique, 12x10 American Art] 15. 6. 78 Portrait of Una Johnson, 1974 etching and aquatint in eight colors on zinc and copper. edition of 50, 24 x 18 [The Brooklyn Museum] 16. Rain and the Sea, 1946 etching and engraving on copper, edition of 30. 15x11 [The Museum of Modern Art, National Gallery of Art] 5. Portrait of Bernard Malamud (The Writer). 1970 aquatint in five colors on copper and zinc, edition of 50. 24 x 18 [National Portrait Gallery, National Museum of [Library of Congress] 2. The Artist’s Daughter. 1965 etching and aquatint in two colors on copper, edition of 50. 13x18 [Syracuse University] Night Sounds of a Brook, 1977 monotype printed in black with gouache additions, unique, 18 13/16 x 24 15/16 Collection of The Museum of Modern Art, John B. Turner Fund Silence, 1947 etching in two colors on zinc, edition of 25, 12x15 [The Metropolitan Museum of Art, The British Museum. London. Bibliotheque Nationale. Paris] 17. Falling Night, 1949 etching, engraving and aquatint in two colors on copper, edition of 25. 17 1/2x12 [Victoria and Albert Museum, London] 18. Blue Arches, 1979 etching and aquatint in seven colors on copper and zinc, edition of 50, 24 x 18 inches [Stanford University Museum of Art] The Painter (Red Self-Portrait), 1983 etching and aquatint in two colors on zinc and copper. edition of 50, 20 x 16 [Museum of Fine Arts, Boston] '. . , �if the Moon, 1950 ving and aquatint in two colors on copper, 19x25 ery of Art] ■je Sea, 1958 ■uatint in four colors on copper, 19. 20. Sound of o Forest Brook, 1986 etching and aquatint in six colors on zinc and copper. edition of 40. 18 x 24 21. Autumn Wind and Stars, 1988 lithograph in four colors, edition of 60. 20 x 24 [The Farnsworth Art Museum] 22. 8t Night—The Artist and His Wife, 1989 lithograph, edition of 50, 26 x I 7 3/4 23. Night Cloud, Land and Water, 1989 monotype, unique. 18 diameter 24. Late in Life Passion, 1990 ■ 20x28 museum of Art] ■s/oon, 1961 wing and aquatint in five colors on copper ■on of 50, 25 x 19 ■ of Modem Art] k 1962 |ix colors on stone and zinc, 36 1/2x 22 3/4 of Modern Art, The Art Institute of t 1962 wo colors on stone, 36 x 17 1/2 of Modern Art, The Art Institute of tngeles County Museum of Art] Night Sky—Deer Isle, 1985 lithograph, hand-colored by the arte 1st, edition of 40, 23 3/4 x 17 3/4 2inC' hand-CO'Ored by the 25. Flowering Tree—Moonlight, 1990 lithograph, edition of 260, 19x18 [Cleveland Museum of Art] |63 lie. edition of 50, 24 x 20 ■of Modern Art] rghter, 1965 uatint in two colors on copper, 13 x 18 fersity] □rd Molamud (The Writer), 1970 colors on copper and zinc, 24 x 18 rait Gallery, National Museum of Johnson, 1974 uatint in eight colors on zinc and copper. 24 x 18 Museum] f a Brook, 1977 ited in black with gouache additions, ,16x24 15/16 fhe Museum of Modem Art, ■ Fund 79 uatint in seven colors on copper and zinc, 24 x 18 inches 'ersity Museum of Art] id Self-Portrait), 1983 uatint in two colors on zinc and copper, 20 x 16 ine Arts. Boston] 79 �( i 1 ■ I Photography by Geoffrey Clc-mer.f. .t ■ erptran* of page* 7,8 (righe), 9 (Wt> by Over B»Ur page* 3i. 43 by Banpnw Magro pages 24, 29. SI. 57 by William Thuss. and page* 9 (>>ght) II i.c':i.2l o/D'.b ' Wr: •' Additional photography. . Blue Arches. Jamaica I. 1978. o.i on canvas. collection of Solomon R Guggenln'm NuMM. Ne* York. g." of H ■ 1 Mr» Henry A Samton. 1979; photography by DarJ He.'-J cop/r : ft.u • P . re : ■ . Night Sounds of a Brook. 1977. monotype, printed in black * .th gouache add •. ;. s. The Museum of Modern Art. New York. John B Turner Fund. reproduced on page 37 Design by Carol Inouye. Inkstone Design Printed and bound by The Stinehour Press Distributed by Tilbury House Publishers. Inc. 80 ’ ... 8 :3 n ■ 24 I �IIIIIIHIIII iDooia?iaa MILKES COLLEGE L16RAPT �� Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Exhibition Programs, 1973-present Description An account of the resource Exhibition programs created by the Sordoni Art Gallery from 1973 to the present. Digitized by Wilkes University Archives interns, Zachary Mendoza and Sophia Kruspha. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Wilkes University Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Sordoni Art Gallery Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1973-present Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Wilkes University retains copyright of these exhibition programs. Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource Exhibition programs, flyers, and calendars. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 1993 January 17 Karl Schrag Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Karl Schrag Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1993 January 17 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Type The nature or genre of the resource N/A Subject The topic of the resource N/A https://omeka.wilkes.edu/omeka/files/original/5bf5faae85e0de7a29a2b1f3f8b8a44b.pdf e4f1d27920e8711f307029deda8b1983 PDF Text Text �� Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Exhibition Programs, 1973-present Description An account of the resource Exhibition programs created by the Sordoni Art Gallery from 1973 to the present. Digitized by Wilkes University Archives interns, Zachary Mendoza and Sophia Kruspha. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Wilkes University Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Sordoni Art Gallery Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1973-present Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Wilkes University retains copyright of these exhibition programs. Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource Exhibition programs, flyers, and calendars. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 1993 March 14 Directors Choice Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Elizabeth Smith Fulton James Penedos Karl Wilson Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1993 March 14 - April 18 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Type The nature or genre of the resource N/A Subject The topic of the resource N/A https://omeka.wilkes.edu/omeka/files/original/81c559720c951e9e89ab2b548aee1d5a.pdf 09350f36b73c483bd71b5b6e34700e4a PDF Text Text �� Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Exhibition Programs, 1973-present Description An account of the resource Exhibition programs created by the Sordoni Art Gallery from 1973 to the present. Digitized by Wilkes University Archives interns, Zachary Mendoza and Sophia Kruspha. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Wilkes University Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Sordoni Art Gallery Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1973-present Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Wilkes University retains copyright of these exhibition programs. Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource Exhibition programs, flyers, and calendars. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. 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Title A name given to the resource 1993 April 25 Wilkes University-BA Senior Exhibition and BFA Senior Exhibition Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource BA Creators: Diane Belusko| Nicole Corbo| Chris McCarty| Kim Metzger| Mary Jo Moses| Betty Matt| Nancy Nokaitis| Candida Sabol| Christopher Scappaticci BFA Creators: Kelly Erickson| Shawn Felty| Sara Hylan| Tracy Kishel| Beth Lulewicz| Scott Morris| Mollie Oleyar-Keavitz| Brian Waclawski| Richard Zeszotarski Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1993 April 25 - May 3 1993 May 9 -16 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Description An account of the resource BA and BFA Senior Exhibitions for 1993 Type The nature or genre of the resource N/A Subject The topic of the resource N/A https://omeka.wilkes.edu/omeka/files/original/d041447d88a3e182edd2b103bfeb867a.pdf a4d3ba8b5ab62ae70254a5860072d8f9 PDF Text Text �� Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Exhibition Programs, 1973-present Description An account of the resource Exhibition programs created by the Sordoni Art Gallery from 1973 to the present. Digitized by Wilkes University Archives interns, Zachary Mendoza and Sophia Kruspha. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Wilkes University Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Sordoni Art Gallery Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1973-present Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Wilkes University retains copyright of these exhibition programs. Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource Exhibition programs, flyers, and calendars. 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Title A name given to the resource 1993 May 30 Twentieth Anniversary Exhibition: Sordoni Art Gallery Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1993 May 30 - June 25 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Type The nature or genre of the resource N/A Subject The topic of the resource N/A https://omeka.wilkes.edu/omeka/files/original/5769ad16f8f920ec389422135baf6cb8.pdf be43b398809bad85bced81a966567cb4 PDF Text Text �� Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Exhibition Programs, 1973-present Description An account of the resource Exhibition programs created by the Sordoni Art Gallery from 1973 to the present. Digitized by Wilkes University Archives interns, Zachary Mendoza and Sophia Kruspha. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Wilkes University Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Sordoni Art Gallery Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1973-present Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Wilkes University retains copyright of these exhibition programs. Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource Exhibition programs, flyers, and calendars. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. 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Title A name given to the resource 1994 May 1 Water Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource John Bromberg Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1994 May 1 - June 5 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Type The nature or genre of the resource N/A Subject The topic of the resource N/A https://omeka.wilkes.edu/omeka/files/original/3eb7e7a3606db0201bbc2e33a3e83aa7.pdf 7ee05bc079731354e9343e523bf30e4f PDF Text Text ��������� https://omeka.wilkes.edu/omeka/files/original/a189e09b55243de2e78f1c470f869540.pdf 78c38ca908ab0fb92c54cf29a7fbcd49 PDF Text Text <1 I i- ; ; 5, ■the City Observed SORD GA ND1159 C6 �The City Observed Barry Roal Carlsen Douglas Safranek Stuart Shils October 2-November 6,1994 E.S. ^.RLEY LiBRAR? WILKES UNIVERSITY WILKES-BARRE, PA Sordoni Art Gallery Wilkes University Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania © 1994 Sordoni Art Gallery �ARCHIVE at n A( Lenders to the Exhibition Barry Roal Carlsen, Madison, WI Gregory and Dorothy Conniff, Madison, WI David Grossfeld, Chicago R. Hiteshew and D. Panzer Collection, Philadelphia Diana Kingman, Berwyn, PA Julilly Kohler, Milwaukee WI Ben Mangel, Philadelphia Mangel Gallery, Philadelphia Lorrie Moore, Madison, WI Thomas and Janet Paul, Loudonville, NY Diana Sargent, Fishers Island, NY Schmidt-Bingham Gallery, New York Stuart Shils, Philadelphia Kenneth Waliszewski, Brookfield, WI Judith Woodburn, Milwaukee, WI Three Anonymous Private Collections n behalf of the Sordoni Ar I to loan works to this exh Julilly Kohler and Jordar Mangel Gallery, Philadelphia; and been especially helpful in arrangir ■ Dale Mainer supervised the packi west. Nancy Krueger of the Sordo ing the exhibition. Earl Lehman i Dr. William Sterling read drafts o Barry Roal Carlsen designed the ( As a the Fin us. Sta Dir ays I am grateful for the su * doni Art Gallery. I thank Barry Roal Carlst r I Grand >?r �1 I Acknowledgments 5 Exhibition on.WI ti, Philadelphia to loan works to this exhibiit"7Chris „eJsXnl'T"0-'-’ag'“in« LJ Julilly Kohler and Jordana Joseph of InternoXiLy Xaufee TO R M 3°*’ Mangel Gallery Philadelphia; and Diana Sargent of The Pandi’on Gallery, Fishe'rs been especially helpful m arranging loans. ’N *’ nave Dale Mainer supervised the packing and crating of the Carlsen paintings that came from the Mid­ west. Nancy Krueger of the Sordoni Art Gallery co-ordinated the many details involved with mount­ ing the exhibition. Earl Lehman installed the exhibition. My colleagues Dr. J. Michael Lennon and Dr. William Sterling read drafts of the essay; I appreciate their editorial comments. j, NY Barry Roal Carlsen designed the cover and provided the catalogue layout. As always I am grateful for the support provided the Gallery by Wilkes University and the Friends of the Sordoni Art Gallery. Finally, I thank Barry Roal Carlsen, Douglas Safranek and Stuart Shils for sharing their visions with 5 us. Stanley I Grand Director 3H" ■ ;8t �The City Observed A Ithough Barry Roal Carlsen Douglas A Safranek and Stuart Shils each creates XX small-format paintings depicting contem­ porary urban landscapes, their sensibilities, for mal concerns and content differ considerably. Carlsen’s pictures of a mid-sized, midwestem city express a poetic, oneiric sensibility. Safranek s punctiliously delineated meditations order the discordance and cacophony of New York City. Shils responds spontaneously to the stimuli of a city undergoing constant cycles of decay and re­ birth. With dramatic contrasts of light and dark, glowing enameled colors, and a multiplicity of detail, Barry Carlsen creates an enigmatic, per­ sonal and marginal world bathed in crepuscular light. Suspended between night and day, twilight marks the transition from work to home, public to private lives, waking to sleep. It is a bridge and, not surprisingly, the bridge recurs frequently as a motif in Carlsen’s paintings. Carlsen depicts a poetic borderland where dif­ ferent worlds intersect and loyalties diverge. Stations suggests the conflict that the artist feels between his studio and his family. In this pic­ ture the artist is a night-shift worker for whom the comforting presence of family, suggested by the light emanating from an upstairs bedroom window, is denied. The child’s sled, abandoned by the side of the house, underscores the mood of isolation. The tension between home and work is expressed differently in Night Shift where lower-middle class backyards butt up against industrial sites. People become marginal in Carlsen’s world. The brave-new-world skyscrapers of the modern service industries march proudly past the ver­ nacular structures of the old rustbelt distribu­ tion centers, which seem strangely quiet eerie and preternatural. The individuals, like those in Not Forgotten, who hang around these by­ passed enterprises engage in mysterious, and often ominous, encounters with each other. Me­ mentoes of projects begun, but left unfinished abound. The mood is haunting, melancholic and elegiac. Even the world of The Dreamer is troubled by disturbing outside forces—symbol­ ized by a strong wind that depresses and flat­ tens the ascending smoke. The painting’s highly finished, glossy surface becomes a mirror of dreams. Despite their small scale, Carlsen’s paintings share some of the grandeur of classic nineteenth­ century American landscapes. The dramatic, ex­ pansive skies recall those of Frederic Edwin Church, but the mood is closer to that of Thomas Cole’s allegorical Course of Empire, updated to show the waning of the American empire. Other influences include the Immaculate painters: Re­ union II in particular shows a knowledge of Charles Sheeler’s photographs of the Ford Mo­ tor Company plant at River Rouge, Michigan. The tension in Douglas Safranek’s paintings derives, in part, from the paradox of imposing a rigid sense of order on what has become, increas­ ingly, a subject synonymous with disorder. Un­ like, Stuart Shils, Safranek paints the city from an intellectual point of view: he brings to his paintings a Cartesian sense of order, reinforced, no doubt, by his undergraduate training as a French major. Typically, as in Still Open, Safranek employs a high, god-like perspective. He looks down on the city from the safety of a window in a tall building. He is a distanced viewer, a flaneur, who orders what he sees, care­ fully removing all chaotic and accidental elements from the composition. His choice of medium expresses well his re­ lationship to his subject. Working in egg tem­ pera, a difficult medium that involves mixing dry pigments in egg yolk, he applies his colors to a carefully prepared surface with small, deliberate brushstrokes. Since egg tempera colors—unlike oils do not blend easily, the artist must lay down many, semi-transparent layers of paint. The medium requires the artist to work slowly, to eliminate chance effects, and encoi most meditative attitude, as that of ing and illustrating manuscripts wl outside spins out of control. Egg t quality, in contrast to the juiciness forces this perception. Egg tempera is ideally suite whose work has a strong linear qual also draws in silverpoint, one exar is included in this exhibition, a virtu that is unexcelled for precise drau His linear sensibility aligns him wi cal, rational tradition that gives the intellectualism of line over the color. Safranek’s clear, deliberate f tours look back to the Classicism of than the Romanticism of Delacroi: A Classical air of quietude anc permeates Still Open. The glowi Mini Market draws residents of ai borhood together on a desultory s Two women lean against the side ( watching four men and a boy, care to form a flattened circle. The sin ing passerby is balanced by anothe Graffiti tags, a frequently cited sj decay, become mere visual inch lights, like jewels, draw the eye a: position, in which a solitary offic nates the horizon. To the left ma ers suggest the presence of Manh lighted catenaries of the suspensio planar recession of the buildi unanimated by glimpses of huma: through open night windows. He Edward Hopper or a John Sloan, drawn. Stuart Shils, on the other hai din, the noise and the dirt of the quickly with oils on paper in a pai style, his plein air cityscapes cap tory and impermanent nature of t Shils has said that his paini �mentoes of projects begun, but left unfinished abound. The mood is haunting, melancholic and elegiac. Even the world of The Dreamer is troubled by disturbing outside forces—symbol­ ized by a strong wind that depresses and flat­ tens the ascending smoke. The painting’s highlyfinished, glossy surface becomes a mirror of dreams. Despite their small scale, Carlsen’s paintings share some of the grandeur of classic nineteenth­ century American landscapes. The dramatic, ex­ pansive skies recall those of Frederic Edwin Church, but the mood is closer to that of Thomas Cole’s allegorical Course of Empire, updated to show the waning of the American empire. Other influences include the Immaculate painters: Re­ union II in particular shows a knowledge of Charles Sheeler’s photographs of the Ford Mo­ tor Company plant at River Rouge, Michigan. The tension in Douglas Safranek’s paintings derives, in part, from the paradox of imposing a rigid sense of order on what has become, increas­ ingly, a subject synonymous with disorder. Un­ like, Stuart Shils, Safranek paints the city from an intellectual point of view: he brings to his paintings a Cartesian sense of order, reinforced, no doubt, by his undergraduate training as a French major. Typically, as in Still Open, Safranek employs a high, god-like perspective. He looks down on the city from the safety of a window in a tall building. He is a distanced viewer, a flaneur, who orders what he sees, care­ fully removing all chaotic and accidental elements from the composition. His choice of medium expresses well his re­ lationship to his subject. Working in egg tem­ pera, a difficult medium that involves mixing dry pigments in egg yolk, he applies his colors to a carefully prepared surface with small, deliberate brushstrokes. Since egg tempera colors—unlike ails do not blend easily, the artist must lay down many, semi-transparent layers of paint. The medium requires the artist to work slowly, to eliminate chance effects, and encourages an al­ most meditative attitude, as that of a monk copy­ ing and illustrating manuscripts while the world outside spins out of control. Egg tempera’s dry quality, in contrast to the juiciness of oil, rein­ forces this perception. Egg tempera is ideally suited for artists whose work has a strong linear quality. (Safranek also draws in silverpoint, one example of which is included in this exhibition, a virtuoso technique that is unexcelled for precise draughtmanship.) His linear sensibility aligns him with the Classi­ cal, rational tradition that gives precedence to the intellectualism of line over the sensuality of color. Safranek’s clear, deliberate forms and con­ tours look back to the Classicism of Ingres rather than the Romanticism of Delacroix. A Classical air of quietude and timelessness permeates Still Open. The glowing facade of a Mini Market draws residents of an urban neigh­ borhood together on a desultory summer night. Two women lean against the side of a parked car watching four men and a boy, carefully arranged to form a flattened circle. The single, approach­ ing passerby is balanced by another who departs. Graffiti tags, a frequently cited symbol of urban decay, become mere visual incident. Yellow lights, like jewels, draw the eye around the com­ position, in which a solitary office tower domi­ nates the horizon. To the left massed skyscrap­ ers suggest the presence of Manhattan as do the lighted catenaries of the suspension bridges. The planar recession of the buildings is static, unanimated by glimpses of human activity spied through open night windows. Here, unlike in an Edward Hopper or a John Sloan, the shades are drawn. Stuart Shils, on the other hand, relishes the din, the noise and the dirt of the city. Working quickly with oils on paper in a painterly, gestural style, his plein air cityscapes capture the transitorY and impermanent nature of the urban scene. Shils has said that his paintings are about thetic 1 Place- His is an aes’ cewed n • a s?1cl01°Slcal> P°int of view. Con­ cerned primarily with visual phenomena he records what he sees but refrains from making overt programmatic or political statements. He invites the viewer to contemplate the scene but, by means of an empty, foreground intermediary zone, keeps the viewer at an aesthetic distance. Although his palette, which consists prima­ rily of earth colors, recalls that of the Ash Can Painters, he does not share their picturesque view of poverty. Shils lacks the optimism of a Robert Henri or George Luks who viewed pov­ erty as a transitory state populated by individu­ als whose lives were more raw, more full, more gutsy. Nor does he explore the themes of alien­ ation, loneliness and estrangement, like Edward Hopper, or those of human suffering and pathos, as did Ben Shahn. In Alley Near Schmidt’s Brewery Shils finds a certain tattered beauty, like that of an old face, reflecting experience and, perhaps, wisdom. De­ spite having fallen on hard times, his buildings maintain their dignity. Abstract pictorial con­ siderations, however, predominate: the architec­ tonic structure begins to dissolve, forms open up, edges become brushy and indistinct, broad flat areas of paint are rendered expressionistically. As in most of his paintings, the alley is deserted, but no sense of melancholy intrudes. Throughout the twentieth century, artists have found inspiration in the American city. De­ spite a wide variety of styles, from the naturalis­ tic interpretations of the Ash Can Painters or the American Scene Painters to the increasingly abstract paintings of the Immaculates, Stuart Davis or Piet Mondrian, the city has fascinated artists. The City Observed demonstrates the continuing vitality of this tradition. Stanley I Grand Director �I Barry Roal Carlsen he places I visit in my paintings are reconstructions of another time. They are amalgamations, the kind of blending or restructurM ing of place that our memories recall for us. While they are spawned from memories of my past and the people that were and are dear to me, I want very much not to make the narratives just a visual diary of personal F■ I events. I see the paintings as vehicles to convey emotions, rather than just formal landscapes. They may represent a reconciliation with the past, an homage to a certain person, the completion of an unfinished conversation, or just a wellspring of nostalgia bubbling up. Whatever the content of the given piece, I am cautious to avoid cementing the objects and setting completely in the realm of the personal. I want the viewer to bring his or her own experience to bear in viewing the work. One of the things I enjoy most is hearing others comment on my work. I have heard a single painting interpreted as expressing bright hope and optimism as well as the darkest sense of loss and depression. Either is equally valid to me, both may even exist in the work. I leave it in the viewer’s hands. When I hear interpretations of my paintings, it is like discovering a part of myself. I want to stand quietly in that place between events, spanning both sides of the question. It is important that the narrative is not altogether complete. There must be room for the viewer to complete the picture. The time and place are not meant to be too specific. I am most interested in the human scale in the environment and the relationships between given objects. I like to watch and record the transitional: the implied event, the light from an unseen source, the time just before nightfall or those first moments of the day. These are the things that intrigue me. Barry Roal Carlsen, Not Forgotten, �jSEN are reconstructions of another > kind of blending or restructur­ in’ us. While they are spawned hat were and are dear to me, I : just a visual diary of personal lotions, rather than just formal ation with the past, an homage finished conversation, or just a er the content of the given piece, s and setting completely in the bring his or her own experience rs comment on my work. I have ssing bright hope and optimism ssion. Either is equally valid to it in the viewer’s hands. When ke discovering a part of myself. i events, spanning both sides of tive is not altogether complete, lete the picture. The time and most interested in the human ps between given objects. I like iplied event, the light from an 1 or those first moments of the Barry Roal Carlsen, Not Forgotten., 1991, 9 x 18 inches, oil on masonite. �Douglas Safranek Tk Tew York City’s density was quite overwhelming when I first I arrived from the vast and tranquil West. Upon months of 1 observation, however, intimidation subsided to fascination. I began to appreciate the clashing contrasts of the big city, and the di­ versity of the people and structures within. The buildings are piled high and crammed together, and millions of people share this small space. Life is never on hold—the city is perpetually moving. Run­ down tenements share the streets with cold, steel giants. In my Brook­ lyn neighborhood, artists walk along-side Polish immigrants, Italians, Puerto Ricans, and Hasidic Jews from Hungary. I was inspired to por­ tray unparalleled diversity in my paintings. i I found that through the slow, meditative process of egg tempera, I was able to maintain a sense of intimate stillness in even the most active compositions. I wanted to note not only the clutter and eccentricities of daily life, but also to bring out that which seemed timeless and uni­ versal in a fast-paced environment. My present work continues to de­ velop these New York images. Being a delicate, precise medium, egg tempera encourages working on a smaller scale than I had been used to. I found, however, that I could achieve the same visual impact in miniature with tempera that I could only achieve on a grander scale in other media. The fragility yet ultimate permanency of tempera seems appropriate for what I hope will be timeless, meditative paintings of a dynamically changing world. i Douglas SafrarJ �1 I I I uite overwhelming when I first ■anquil West. Upon months of ation subsided to fascination. I rasts of the big city, and the di* vithin. The buildings are piled ions of people share this small y is perpetually moving. Run­ cold. steel giants. In my Brookide Polish immigrants. Italians. Hungary. I was inspired to por­ tings. s- I ex § £>X 3 ve process of egg tempera. I was tillness in even the most active ly the clutter and eccentricities which seemed timeless and uniy present work continues to dea delicate, precise medium, egg dler scale than I had been used ieve the same visual impact in ily achieve on a grander scale in ? permanency of tempera seems leless, meditative paintings of a Safranek, Still Open, 1994, 4 5/8 x 4 inches, egg tempera on �Stuart Shils 1 ’ T have an appetite for the material of the city; it’s a sensual re­ sponse really. I try to paint in the same way that you eat grapeI fruits in the morning, where you stop thinking about what you’re doing and just enter into the doing of it. It’s like a physical attraction to another person, very animal like. I don’t mean that I paint like an ani­ mal, but I try to connect on a purely visual level. —I don’t think there’s any story in my paintings: if there is, I don’t know about it. The paintings don’t have a psychological or sociological orien­ tation; I’m interested in visual meanings: how one wall relates to an­ other, what that relationship means abstractly, or in the tonal quality of light. —I’m painting the city as it exists today. My colors might seem “old fashioned,” but that’s the city. I don’t see bright reds and oranges. I paint my emotional response to the city, but I’m not transforming my colors in a fauvist way. I’m trying to understand the color that I’m seeing. —I’m not engaged in the whole life-on-the-street issue or involved in what’s going on there. I’m just watching the world go by in a very de­ tached, even voyeuristic, way. That feeling of separation and distance may come through in my work although I’m not thinking about it. Rather, I’m trying to remake what I’m looking at, to put it together in a sensual and tactile way. —The city in its decrepitude is magnificent. I’m not trying to glorify these horrible places, I don’t think there’s any virtue to living there, although I am trying to glorify their visual magnificence. Of course I’m interested in the life of the city and this interest pro­ vides me with a certain momentum, but not in formal terms. When I go out to paint its really more like eating an ice cream cone. Stuart Shils, Alley excerpts from a conversation �------------- ? F I g- terial of the city; it’s a sensual re­ in the same way that you eat grapeyou stop thinking about what you’re of it. It’s like a physical attraction to I don’t mean that I paint like an aniy visual level. gtn O B. Q ny paintings: if there is, I don’t know a psychological or sociological orienanings: how one wall relates to ans abstractly, or in the tonal quality7 of today My colors might seem “old ion’t see bright reds and oranges. I e city, but I’m not transforming my ig to understand the color that I’m e-on-the-street issue or involved in tching the world go by in a very7 det feeling of separation and distance igh I’m not thinking about it. Rather, ng at, to put it together in a sensual ignificent. I’m not trying to glorify t there’s any virtue to living there, r visual magnificence. life of the city and this interest prol but not in formal terms. When I go ling an ice cream cone. Stuart Shils, Alley Near Schmidt’s Brewery, 1994, 10 5/8 x 11 inches, oil on paper. t" I �OF THE EXHIBniON Barry Roal Carlsen Bachelor Party, 1990 0 x 6, oil on panel Courtesy of Gregory and Dorothy Connitt Barn Roal Carlsen C.;s.'-n.c Off II, 1989 0 x 12, oil on copper Courtesy of Dav id Grossfeld Barry Roal Carlsen 1992 5 I 2 x " 1 2. oil on masonite Courtesy of Barry Roal Carlsen Barry Roal Carlsen Factory, 1989 6 x 9. oil on panel Courtesy of Gregory and Dorothy Conniff Barry Roal Carlsen The Meeting Place, 1989 9x 12, oil on copper Courtesy of Lorrie Moore Douglas Safranek Before Dark, 1994 5 3/8 x 6, egg tempera on panel Courtesy of Schmidt-Bingham Gallery Douglas Safranek Common Ground, 1994 32 x 22, egg tempera on panel Courtesy of Schmidt-Bingham Gallery Douglas Safranek Domino Sugar, 1994 5 3/8 x 7, egg tempera on panel Courtesy of Schmidt-Bingham Gallery Barry Roal Carlsen Midnight Wind II, 1994 12 x 28. oil on masonite Courtesy of Barry Roal Carlsen Douglas Safranek Ordinary Life, 1993 16 1/2 x 12, egg tempera on panel Courtesy of Schmidt-Bingham Gallery Barry Roal Carlsen Night Shift, 1989 9x12, oil on copper Courtesy of Barry Roa! Carlsen Douglas Safranek Snow/Steam, 1992 8x7 1/2, silverpoint, gouache on toned board Courtesy of Schmidt-Bingham Gallery Barry Roal Carlsen No! Forgotten, 1991 9x18, oil on masonite Courtesy of Lome Moore Barry Roal Carlsen Reunion 11. 1992 5x9, oil on masonite Ct urtesy of Thomas and Janet Paul Barry Roal Carlsen Shared Gift, 1989 6 x 9, oil on panel Giurtevy of Gregory and Dorothy Conniff Barry Roal Carlsen Slant,ns, I'M 9*6 oil on masonite C ‘run.esy of Kenneth Waliszewski Barry RoaJ (arisen 1he Dreamer, 1992 6 x 9. otl on masonite Courtesy ofJulilly Kohler Barry Roal Carlsen lheIs iton, 198990 12 * 16, oil <m masonite Cosmevy of Judith Woodhum Douglas Safranek Still Open, 1994 4 5/8 x 4, egg tempera on panel Courtesy of Schmidt-Bingham Gallery Douglas Safranek Walking the Dog, 1993 28 1/4 x 17, egg tempera on panel Courtesy of Schmidt-Bingham Gallery Stuart Shils 33rd and Diamond Streets, 1994 7 3/8 x 12, oil on paper Courtesy of Diana Sargent Stuart Shils A Corner of East Fishtown, 1993 9 5/8 x 11 13/16, oil on paper Courtesy of Private Collection Stuart Shils A Dark Side Street, 1992 7 3/8 x 11 1/2, oil on paper Courtesy of Private Collection Stuart Shils >/K x 11, oil on Counesy of Stuart Shils Stuart Shils Construction Near Delaware Avi'enue, 1993 11 1/8 x 11, oil on paper Courtesy of Ben Mangel Stuart Shils Delaware Avenue with a Red Truck, 1992 8 7/8 x 11 3/8, oil on paper Courtesy of Stuart Shils Stuart Shils Demolition on Norih American Street, 1993 117/16 x 9 7/8, oil on paper Courtesy of Diana Kingman Stuart Shils Grey's Ferry and Federal Streets, 1991 7 1/4x10 5/8, oil on paper Courtesy of Private Collection Stuart Shils Mellon Bank Tower, 1992 9 1/4x8 3/4, oil on paper Courtesy of Stuart Shils Stuart Shils Nocturne, 1992 8 1/8x10 1/2, oil on paper Courtesy of Stuart Shils Stuart Shils Nocturne Over Manayunk, 1985 7 1/2x14, oil on paper Courtesy of R. Hiteshew and D. Panzer Collection Stuart Shils Old Warehouses with Stack, 1993 10 3/4x11 1/8, oil on paper Courtesy of Stuart Shils Stuart Shils The Relic Still Afloat, 1993 8 1/2 x 12 1/2, oil on paper Courtesy of Mangel Gallery Stuart Shils Urban Ruins, 1994 10 5/8 x 10 5/8, oil on paper Courtesy of Stuart Shils Height precedes width, all dimensions in inches �� Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Exhibition Programs, 1973-present Description An account of the resource Exhibition programs created by the Sordoni Art Gallery from 1973 to the present. Digitized by Wilkes University Archives interns, Zachary Mendoza and Sophia Kruspha. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Wilkes University Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Sordoni Art Gallery Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1973-present Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Wilkes University retains copyright of these exhibition programs. Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource Exhibition programs, flyers, and calendars. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 1994 October 2 The City Observed Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Barry Roal Carlson Douglas Safranek Stuart Shils StanleyI.Grand Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1994 October 2 - November 6 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Description An account of the resource Although Barry Roal Carlsen, Douglas Safranek, and Stuart Shils each creates small-format paintings depicting contemporary urban landscapes, their sensibilities, formal concerns, and content differ considerably. In this exhibition, exploration into these different aspects is explored. Type The nature or genre of the resource N/A Subject The topic of the resource N/A Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource SAG https://omeka.wilkes.edu/omeka/files/original/ab13f50468d422cd9e61b8e28003d1ba.pdf 05cc1d8a08e654da18a043b1ed42d906 PDF Text Text �������������������������� https://omeka.wilkes.edu/omeka/files/original/d159ed1fb1bb4dcae2607e1282db4599.pdf 183a72c8dc25bb86b3fcd10ff2bae74a PDF Text Text SORD GA NE2860 D795 1994 he Drum Lithographs: 1960-1963 �Tin: jm Lithographs; 1960-1963 1 ’.xliibitimi < aimhil by Sundry H.t.iiiJ Cntnlogur I’ -Mix by Cliniou \il;iin1 liy lltlr S||r| ill.tn •j(> i WiLKES UNIVERSITY WtLKES-BARRE. PA xd- oi Vi GaU’n « slkr. I %>!;•- ■ Il.r.-- f'-r ■ - > ©|>>H ©r* i' • > vi > �acknowledgments IOKW MU) Stanley I Grand Jules Sherman I first met Jules and Lorraine. Sherman while working on my dissertation. Ihey invited me out to their Long Island home and. during the course of our visit, introduced me to the Drum Lithographs. At the time, I thought that these little-known lithographs would make an excellent exhibition. In 1993, their son Michael and his wile Kim donated 121 of the prints to the Sordoni Art Gallery, Wilkes I niversity. This exhibition is drawn primarily from that generous gift. I am particularly grateful to Clinton Adams, whose knowledge of lithography and twentieth-century American lithographers is unrivaled, for writing the catalogue essay. He has been a delightful person with whom Io work. Ken Showell photographed the lithographs al Christopher and \ vettc Deelons New York studio. The Metro Agency7 designed the catalogue, which was printed by Penn ( Creative Litho. Finally, 1 wish to express my thanks to the Sordoni Art Gallery staff. Friends of the Sordoni Art Gallery7, and the Gallery's Advisory Commission. ARCHIVES I remember it as a dark, winter evi 1 ♦>()()—I can t sax exactlx7—w In n lb gio Reginald. reienih irttirnvd train Pan l> establishing an experimental lithographic pt \n \leliei' hi a coninieu ial litho pb I phoned mx wife canceled dmmi personal dream xxtis about to lie tulhlb'd. begun and Collci tors Graphics was born \\« Legau work almost immediatelv and aluminum plate., coalings and et< techniques and materials. Nothing workei paper plate- l)e-igned exchl-ivelx lor sho plates xv« iv unstable, fragik and tempers bt-xond our wildest expectation. ith tl print program b< gan in carn< -I. We agreed, at the x< r\ beginning- ll artists or their work that all costs would h not be inhibited by financial consider educational and joyous and that the ultum < io]lectors Graphics was to be a -elf Jacquis Lipchitz. Ma-ter. friend ol realized the freedom of Collectors Graphic an evenings production: everything was in the flu and deeply apologetic about his mi nonetheless reluctant to break the schcdiil permit me to lie hi- eye- I would describe to the waiting pressman. I le agreed! Later that evening. I delivered the was overwhelmed. He left his bed. hugg ‘"Jules, yon have given me new hope for a With undxing love for Reginald, wl With undxing luxe for Merrill, hi- i With undying love for Lou. their b �FORWARD Jules Sherman raine Sherman while working on my dissertation. They [and home and, during the course of our visit, introduced At the time, I thought that these little-known lithographs ition. In 1993, their son Michael and his -wife Kim donated i Art Gallery, Wilkes University. This exliibition is drawn ift. il to Clinton Adams, whose knowledge of lithography and lographers is unrivaled, for writing the catalogue essay, i with whom to work. led the lithographs at Cluistopher and Yvette Deeton's New ned the catalogue, which was printed by Penn Creative : my thanks to the Sordoni Art Gallery staff. Friends of the tilery's Advisory Commission. 1 remember it as a dark, winter evening in late December 1959 or early January 10pQ I cant say exactly—when Reginald Pollack entered my shop, and my life. Reginald, recently returned from Paris, had telephoned a few hours earlier to propose establishing an experimental lithographic print program. An Atelier! In a commercial litho plant! I phoned my wife, canceled dinner and awaited his arrival with no doubt that a personal dream was about to be fulfilled. Several hours later, a lifelong friendship had begun and Collectors Graphics was born. We began work almost immediately, devoting weekends to experimenting with zinc and aluminum plates, coatings and etches, and other contemporary lithographic techniques and materials. Nothing worked. Finally we custom ordered special press-size paper plates. Designed exclusively for short runs on small Multilith equipment, the paper plates were unstable, fragile, and temperamental; but they functioned magnificently — beyond our wildest expectations. With the basic production problem now resolved, the print program began in earnest. We agreed, at the very beginning, that no restrictions would ever be imposed on the artists or their work; that all costs would be absorbed by the shop so that the artists would not be inhibited by financial considerations; that our aim in printing was solely educational and joyous and that the ultimate product would reflect this philosophy. Collectors Graphics was to be a self-sustaining love affair! Jacques Lipchitz, Master, friend of Modigliani, Picasso and their contemporaries, realized the freedom of Collectors Graphics and brought forth its soul. We had scheduled an evening’s production; everything was in order when the phone rang. Sick at home with the flu and deeply apologetic about his inability to be present at the printing, Jacques was nonetheless reluctant to break the schedule. I was at press side and asked him if he would permit me to be his eyes: I would describe what I saw’ and he would respond, through me, to the waiting pressman. Fie agreed! Later that evening, I delivered the prints to his home. This gentle giant of a man was overwhelmed. Fie left his bed, hugged me and said in his endearing French accent, “Jules, you have given me new hope for a life in art! With undying love for Reginald, who taught me to See. With undying love for Merrill, his identical twin, who taught me to Share. With undying love for Lou, their brother, who taught me to Feel. ■ 1 - I �THE DRUM LITHOGRAPHS: 1960-1963 Clinton Adams As has often been the case in the history of artists’ lithography, a fortuitous meeting between an artist and a printer made possible the fine prints produced at Drum Lithographers between 1960 and 1963. The artist was Reginald Pollack, who had been making lithographs in New York and Paris since 1941; the printer was Jules Sherman, who offered to print Pollack’s hand-drawn offset lithographs for the sheer joy of it. 1 Pollack had first encountered lithography while an apprentice to Moses Soyer in 1941; soon thereafter, he and some friends had printed lithographs from stone, using presses and equipment at East Side House in Manhattan. In 1948, after military service during World War II, Pollack went to Paris for study, with support from the G.I. Bill. He soon met the French printer Gaston Dorfinant, who permitted the young artist (he was then twenty-four) to draw his stones at a work bench once used by Toulouse-Lautrec. While living in Paris, Pollack continued to exhibit in New York, most often at the Peridot Gallery, established by his brother Louis in 1949. To earn money on the side, he began buying prints in Paris—on the quais and at auctions—acting as agent for Louis Pollack, Charles Stem, and the print dealer, Peter Deitsch. In the late 1950s, he made several color lithographs in Paris, including one on commission from William S. Lieberman, then Curator of Prints at the Museum of Modem Art.2 Simultaneously, a new interest in lithography was developing in the United States. In New York, Margaret Lowengrund opened the Contemporaries Graphic Art Centre (predecessor to the Pratt Graphic Art Center) in 1955, and Tatyana Grosman began her collaboration with Larry Rivers and Frank O’Hara in 1957. In Los Angeles, June Wayne, with a grant from the Ford Foundation, established Tamarind Lithography Workshop in 1960.3 Each of these workshops had its own character and objectives. At Tamarind, a primary goal was the training of a new generation of master printers who, in concert with artists of diverse styles . . . [might] restore the prestige of lithography by actually creating a collection of extraordinary prints.”4 Reginald Pollack, however, had come to believe that collaborative lithographic workshops were caught up in a “quagmire of lithographic technology” that caused art to lose its spontaneity. It was the technology that was of interest, rather than the work of art.”5 This conclusion (which would be contradicted by history) caused Pollack to seek simpler ways to make prints. Soon after returning from Paris to New York, he began work with the printer Martin Levitt, who introduced him to the Multilith process, a form of oJ>ffset lithography that makes use of plastic-impregnated Pollack worked with Levitt to create a suite of lithographs, “Interiors and Exteriors." later boxed and Meanwhile, over lunches in New York. Pollack had coin ArtNeirs magazine: Walter Bareiss. a noted collector: an the possible ways to stimulate use of lithography by otl to fruition, the project they discussed—"Editions A collaboration between artists and poets (and was thus j 21 Etchings and Poems, a historic publishing project 1960)/ Precisely because of its lack of technical com process as an ideal means for such collaborations I technical barriers: what the artist draws or the poe written, without reversal of the image.’ "We were tillii “but nothing came of our conversations. 1 he interest the mechanism was not.' ” It was then that Pollack met Jules Sherman, a Drum Lithographers, was located on East 1’wentieth Si not been satisfied with the small size of the plates On i was delighted to discover that Sherman was able (by sj [Sherman] was interested in rm research Io create his presses. In the course of that year, using the la prints with the port John Hollander. They were d< on the plates, the poetry, anil 1 did drawings ami v Vision" and was never put on the market.’' For .hiles Shannon. the collaboration with Pol provided a welcome break from business; "My shop transformed into a joyous atelier on weekends, w transcended commercialism. '11 They began work morning. "At the end of each day s work." Pollack and fired w ith the sense of doing something importan the pressroom (“only those who were most curious a direct interaction between the artists and the print instructions about the plates and about the transp �): 1960-1963 case in the history of artists’ lithography, a fortuitous meeting rinter made possible the fine prints produced at Drum and 1963. Die artist was Reginald Pollack, who had been ork and Paris since 1941: the printer was Jules Sherman, who d-drawn offset lithographs "for the sheer joy of it.”1 >untered lithography while an apprentice to Moses Soyer in id some friends had printed lithographs from stone, using st Side House in Manhattan. In 1948, after military service went to Paris for study, with support from the G.I. Bill. He Gaston Dorfinant. who permitted the young artist (he was lis stones at a work bench once used by Toulouse-Lautrec. continued to exhibit in New York, most often at die Peridot other Louis in 19-19. To earn monev on the side, he began le quais and at auctions—acting as agent for Louis Pollack, lealer, Peter Deitsch. In the late 1950s, he made several color ing one on commission from William S. Lieberman, then am of Modem Art.2 interest in lithography was developing in the United States. . engrund opened the Contemporaries Graphic Art Centre phic .Art Center) in 1955, and Tatyana Grosman began her rs and Frank 0 Hara in 1957. In Los Angeles, June Wavne, ■oundation, established Tamarind Lithography Workshop in lops had its own character and objectives. At Tamarind, a ; of a new generation of master printers who. in concert with . [might] restore the prestige of lithographv by actually rdinary prints.”4 (.’ever, had come to believe that collaborative lithographic a quagmire of lithographic technology” that caused art to die technology that was of interest, rather than the work of i would be contradicted by history) caused Pollack to seek Soon after returning from Paris to New York, he began work tt, who introduced him to the Multilith process, a form of lithogiaphj that makes use of plastic-impregnated, paper-base plates. 1 ollack worked with Levitt to create a suite of small black-and-white and color lithographs, Interims and Exteriors,” later boxed and distributed by the Peridot Gallery. I Meanwhile, over lunches in New York, Pollack had conversations with Tom Hess, editor of i ArtNews magazine; Walter Bareiss, a noted collector; and journalist Kermit Lansner about the possible ways to stimulate use of lithography by other New York artists. Had it come to fruition, the project they discussed—“Editions New York”—would have involved collaboration between artists and poets (and was thus parallel in intention to the portfolio 21 Etchings and Poems, a historic publishing project begun in 1951 and completed in I960).6 Precisely because of its lack of technical complexity, Pollack saw the Multilith process as an ideal means for such collaborations. In Multilith printing there are few technical barriers: what the artist draws or the poet writes appears just as drawn or written, without reversal of the image.7 “We were tilling the ground,” Pollack remembers, “but nothing came of our conversations. The interest was there, the spirit was there, but the mechanism was not.”8 It was then that Pollack met Jules Sherman, a printer whose commercial business, Drum Lithographers, was located on East Twentieth Street in Manhattan.9 As Pollack had not been satisfied with the small size of the plates on wltich he and Levitt had worked, he was delighted to discover that Sherman was able (by special order) to secure larger ones: Oidhet [Sherman] was interested in my research to create prints, and offered his friendship and his presses. In tire course of that year, using the larger paper plates, I created a suite of prints with the poet John Hollander. They were done in my studio; John would write on the plates, the poetry, and I did drawings and washes. The suite was entitled “A Beach Vision” and was never put on the market.10 For Jules Sherman, the collaboration with Pollack—and soon with other artists— provided a welcome break from business: “My shop, commercial during the week, was transformed into a joyous atelier on weekends, where the magic of creating prints transcended commercialism.”11 They began work early, usually at six o’clock in the morning. “At the end of each day’s work,” Pollack remembers, “we were all hot, dirty, and fired with the sense of doing something important. Because few of the artists visited the pressroom (“only those who were most curious about the process ),1- there was little direct interaction between the artists and the printer.18 “We provided the artists with instructions about the plates and about the transparent inks used in lithography, but �nothing was proofed; the plate went on the press, and that was it.”1-* Whether in black and white or in colors, the plates were printed as drawn, without change or corrections. As a means to distribute the lithographs, Sherman and the Pollack brothers decided to form a new corporation, Collectors Graphics, Inc., and to invite a number ol artists— including some who were represented by Peridot Gallery to make lithographs, rhey liired artist Joel Goldblatt to serve as a liaison: “He would visit artists studios and go over the technical requirements with them, then, a week or two (or three) afterwards, [he] would collect the plates and deliver them to the press. After printing, Goldblatt would return the completed editions to the artist lor signature. We concentrated on artists who were being pushed aside in the ferment of the abstract expressionist heyday, and the bulk of the art we chose was figurative. . . . Lou persuaded Milton Avery’ to do a color print; Drum also did a three-color print for Jacques Lipchitz, which was donated to the State of Israel.15 I contacted and invited Larry Rivers, Marisol, Fairfield Porter, and others to contribute. More than 100 editions were soon completed, and on 17 April 1961 an initial exhibition was presented at the Peridot Gallery. The announcement stressed the “new technique of lithography” that had been employed in the making of the prints, a point widely echoed in reviews of the exhibition.15 Writing in Village Voice, Suzanne Kiplinger spoke of the “vigor and spontaneity” of the prints: [They] make one realize with relief that, after all, vigorous drawing hasn’t disappeared, it’s simply submerged for the moment. As one who enjoys rehearsals, sketches, run-throughs—anything in its nascent, budding state—I recommend this exhibit to others who have grown a little tired of full orchestrations.17 Clearly, it was this quality of improvisation that most attracted many of the artists who participated in the project: Highly personalized prints resulted. Fairfield Porter enjoyed the entire concept, an approach that allowed maximum spontaneity and a freedom comparable to drawing in his own sketchbooks.' He liked the loose fingerprinted, almost haphazard look of the finished lithograph. The direct quality of the medium, the paper plates, made it possible lor him to select the best drawings.15 In November 1l*(i2. a number of agent for Sears, which advertised them 1 Attractive Prices.” Price, an astute am meant for everyone. ami now can be I selected every item offered. . . '.1 lithographs produced at Drum Lithogn purchasers.20 A second exhibition of the prin Peridot in December 1963. It im hid announced, “were selected on the has subjects range from Reginald Pollac puppeteers, to Milton Avery's broadly b Tribune thought the prints "more spout stone. Large color prints by Freilicht quality of watercolors.' 22 \\ riting in 4r himself forget his stringent sense of dt turbulent. 23 The 1963 exhibition proved to moved to Los Angele.-, during 1963. collapsed. When Reggie said, Tin leav love-making project with no commerc Bv 1965, Lottis Pollacks health was consigned the remaining lithographs tc “Collectors Graphics Collection”;25 late In the past thirty years the litl known and little seen, eclipsed by the presses at Tamarind, I .L.A.E.. and oi as we look at them anew, we are st! economy” of Man Frank’s linear dra landscapes: the force of Robert Good of James Brooks’s brush drawing; th Kingdom™ ami by many other accott can be no question but that these vi long neglected) chapter in the history �the press, and that was it.”14 Whether in black and j In November 1962, a number of editions were purchased by Vincent Price as an d as drawn, without change or corrections. igraphs, Sherman and the Pollack brothers decided I| Attractive Prices. Prices.” Price, an astute and informed collector, wrote inl a foreword: “Art is graphics, Inc., and to invite a number of artists by Peridot Gallery—to make lithographs. They I I iaison: “He would visit artists studios and go over then, a week or two (or three) afterwards, [hel to the pres,.’ After printing, Cldblati wo„M tin >t for signature. ■re being pushed aside in the ferment of and the bulk of the art we chose ded Millon Avery to do a color print: Drum ques Lipcliitz, which was donated to the nvited Larry Rivers, Marisol. Fairfield ton completed, and on 17 April 1961 an initial t Gallery. The announcement stressed the “new n employed in the making of the prints, a point on.16 Writing in Village Voice, Suzanne Kiplinger he prints: : that, after all, vigorous drawing merged for the moment. As one who roughs—anything in its nascent, ixhibit to others who have grown a little tion that most attracted many of the artists who . Fairfield Porter enjoyed the entire maximum spontaneity and a his own sketchbooks.' He liked the ard look of the finished lithograph, he paper plates, made it possible aiigeut for Sears, which advertised them for sale as “(Collector’s Contemporary Graphics at meant for everyone, and now can 1be bought at Sears by everyone. I have personally selected every item offered. . . jJules Sherman estimates that roughly half of the lithographs produced at Drum Lithographers were sold either to Sears5 or other volume put chasers.-® r . . A.Ssecond “°,,cl 7* “*”.“ ‘of A* ’ prints Prints published by CoUeetor. exhibition the Collectors Crapin, Graphics was held at Peridot in December 1963. It included works by twenty-six artists who, the gallery announced, were selected on the basis of their drawing ability. . . . The styles and subjects range from Reginald Pollack’s humorous and metaphorical renderings of puppeteers, to Milton Avery’s broadly blocked landscape. ’21 The reviewer for the Herald Tribune thought the prints “more spontaneous and free than more difficult lithography on stone. Large color prints by Freilicher, Hillsmith, Frasconi and Cicero have the lively quality’ of watercolors.”22 Writing in ArtNews, Valerie Petersen praised Frasconi, who “lets himself forget his stringent sense of design and opens up unlabored forms, crowded and turbulent.”23 The 1963 exhibition proved to be the project’s swan song. Reginald Pollack had moved to Los Angeles during 1963, and in his absence, Sherman says, “the energy collapsed. When Reggie said, I’m leaving, I said, okay, that’s it. It had been great fun—a love-making project with no commercial implications—but it was over and done with.”24 By 1965, Louis Pollack’s health was deteriorating, and in December of that year, he consigned the remaining lithographs to the F.A.R. Gallery, where they would be sold as the “Collectors Graphics Collection”;23 later, he sold Peridot to Joan Washburn.23 In the past thirty years the lithographs included in this exhibition have been little known and little seen, eclipsed by the larger, more complex lithographs that came from the presses at Tamarind, U.L.A.E., and other workshops across the country’. Today, however, as we look at them anew, we are struck by their immediacy: by the “exemplary lyric economy” of Mary Frank’s linear drawings;22 the lively expressionism of Jane Freilicher’s landscapes; the force of Robert Goodnough’s tangled time-and-motion studies; the power of James Brooks’s brush drawing; the “extraordinary facility” of David Levine’s Animal Kingdom-™ and by many other accomplished and fresh statements. Taken together, there can be no question but that these vibrant lithographs constitute an important (and too long neglected) chapter in the history of American lithography. �press my gratitude to Jules Sherman and Reginald isable) assistance in the writing of this essay° field. As a director of the Print Council of Ante ' > J. H. Gusten, its executive secretary. Gustav. a’ onal Graphic Art Society (IGAS), which commissioned lerican and European artists, and a member of the rd. Also a member of that board, Lieberman sought rsion of funds from Tamarind to Pratt) for a pro°T York. •hers, 1900-1960: The Artists and Their Printers ■> Press, 1983), pp. 182-206. Jthograph in the United States,” a proposal and the Arts of the Ford Foundation. 1959. an Ludman, 8 August 1979. I thank Joan Ludman w. •re d’Artiste in America: Reflections on 21 Etchings -indPapers 13 (1990): 35-40. :e reversed: once upon transfer to an intermediarv e paper. It thus appears on the paper as the artist image reversal encountered in other forms of .dams. 23 July 1994. that the Drum lithographs were printed by “a erman] who invited artists to visit his home on Long jgraphic facilities he had there" (Thompson, in the owhee. N.C.: Department of Art. Western Carolina ths were printed at Drum Lithographers in i began early in 1960. Each lithograph was eginning with seven prints hy Carmen Cicero, four otherwise noted, all quotations are from this letter. dams. 23 July 1994. ey Dinnerstein. David Levine, Jacques Lipchitz, hose who came to the pressroom. Warns. 26 July 1994. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21 22 23 24 25 26. 27. 28. Lipchitz made a total of three lithographs at Drum. In tact, American artists had made original, hand-drawn, offset lithographs since the 1930s. Jean Chai lots Picture Book (1933) was printed by Will and Lynton Kistler in Los Angeles; die following year, while, teaching at the Florence Cane School in New York, Chariot acquired a Multilith press and, together with Albert Carman and Emilio Amcro made a number of Multilith prints (1934-35); the historic portfolio published by American Abstract Artists (193.) was printed on the Cane School press. Carman subsequently printed many color offset prints for “The Artists Color Proof Associates” (ca. 1936-41) and for Marc Chagall’s The Tales from the Arabian Nights (1945). In San Francisco, Richard Diebenkom (and others) made lithographs for the portfolio Drawings (1948), printed by Multilith. See Adams, American Lithographers (cited n. 3), and Janet Flint, Art for All: American Print Publishing Between the IFars (Washington: Smithsonian Institution, 1980). Tillage Boice, 27 April 1961. Joan Ludman, Fairfield Porter: A Catalogue Raisonne ofHis Prints, Including Illustrations, Bookjackets, and Exhibition Posters (Scarsdale, N.Y.: Highland House, 1981), p. 16. Price wrote: “We’re really tremendously thrilled at having these [lithographs] to add to the collection and I just wanted you to know how really wonderful you were about everything” (Price to Louis and Reginald Pollack, 9 November 1962). According to Sherman, the Rock-Hill-Uris Group, a hotel chain, purchased “several thousand prints” on 12 October 1961. Sears made payment of $53,531.50 for 3,540 impressions on 19 November 1962. Editions purchased by Sears included Carmen Cicero, Abstraction-, Robert Goodnough, The Chief, David Levine, Coney Island-, Reginald Pollack, Old Man at Table, Mario as Arab, Still Life with Garlic, and Actor, 3/4 Fiew; Paul Resika, Seated Girl-, and Larry7 Rivers, IFebster (sales catalogue published by Sears, 1964). Transcript of announcement on WNEW-TV, 30 December 1963. Unsigned review, New York Herald Tribune, 14 December 1963. “Collector’s [sic] Graphics, Inc.,” ArtNews 62 (December 1963): 55. Sherman sold Drum Lithographers in 1970. Letter of agreement between Collectors Graphics, Inc., and F.A.R. Gallery7, Inc., 28 December 1965. I thank Joan T. Washburn and Jay Grimm for making available this letter and other materials contained in the Peridot Gallery scrapbooks. Louis Pollack (b. 1921) diedin 1970. Hilton Kramer, quoted in Underexposed (cited n. 9), p. 5. Underexposed, p. 11. ��z4 ■ £(' '/ K f cr i > • '/ ROSEMARIE BECK, Violinist Sketches, lithograph. 12 3/4 x 10. �sitsBssmram JAMf S BROOKS / / > �ir. lithograph, 12 1/2 JAMES BROOKS, Black and White, lithograph, 10 x 14. �- CARMEN CICERO, Bird Lives (1960). lithograph, 9 x 13. MARY FRANK Hi �MARY FRANK, Woman Figure, lithograph, 10 x 12 3/4. �~W • ' < \""J 5 <* 6 JANE FRE1LICHEH ANTONIO FRASCONI. Field ofScrap (1963), color lithograph. 29 x 23. �JANE FREILICHER, Landscape, lithograph, 23 x 28 3/4. rap (1963), color lithograph, 29 x 23. �-I ..... M I V PAUL GEORGES. If'inter Landscape (1963), color lithograph. 22 l/2 x 28. JOEL GOLDBI. VI’ �4 raph, 22 1/2 JOEL GOLDBLATT, Still Life with Dark and Light, lithograph, 13 5/8 �ROBERT GOODNOUGH, Horseman. [Black & Sepia], color lithograph. 23 x 29. Bl RI HAM ’S /< ________ �'Black & Sepia], color lithograph, 23 BURT HASEN, Face Constellation (1963), lithograph, 28 x 21 �WOLF K\ll\ \u<!‘ Jh Joi IN lll'l IKEK 5 ?•' ��DAVID LEVINE,/Ih/zh<//Mi ALEX KATZ, Double Portrait [Ada], lithograph, 10 x 12 1/8. �r/ Double Portrait [Ada], lithograph, 10 x 12 1/8. �MAHIMH h* �le Lnknown, lithograph, 27 x 20 3/4. MAR1S0L, Foot and Faces (1961), lithograph, 13 1/8 x 10. �I RICHARD MAYHEW, Trees, lithograph, 10 x 12 3/4. MICHAEL NAZI R 1. til Hied �■lithograph, 10 x 12 3/4. �UL « 1 4 -V r r WALTER MARK MCAFEE, You 0ill Never Catch .Me, color lithograph, 28 x 23. �t WALTER TANDY MURCH, Bricks, lithograph, 23 x 19. ithograph, 28 �si i PHILIP PEARIKI f CONSTANTINE NIVOLA. To"o People in Bed (1963). color lithograph, 1 ’ �■Vr PHILIP PEARLSTEIN, Landscape, lithograph, 23 1/8 x 29. Bed (1963), color lithograph, 29 x 23. ��CK. LantJscnp. u'th Cloudi. lid?.,graph. 9 7/8 x 12 3/-». FAIRFIELD PORTER, Child Writing [Lizzie Drawing]lithograph, 10 x 14. �LARRY RIVERS. Hebstpr I ALL RES1KA, Child Playing with Top (1963), lithograph, H x 10. �»W truh L,,,. i-r; ; i . , , ■. �HOSS. „n imo n>|or li(||o2r;i{(|) 2;$ * �olor lithograph. 23 x 28 7/8. TOBIAS SCHNEEBAVM. Jurigh- ;W<. kJ, lithograph. 2" x �HI HIOVSIIAl l(M\\ /. full •«>!<>< Iithogf-ipli 20 .'.'4 t 2" Kt.l Bl \ 1 v �/ REl BEX I AM. �IL color lithograph. 20 3/4 x 27 3/8. REUBEN TAM, Monhegan Shoreline, lithograph, 22 1/2 x 28 5/8. �ciie( ki isi <>i uh i \innirio\ pinlm.lw «r«- «tw« •« <>♦’ •••■- Millon S»»r» ’ J.M Frrtbrhn K t*j l*rJ t <*«mI h. 1^23 < awAtaun L<h><t«pi*. 10 « 14 ,SM ’ /,.•<■!>■ H!‘ | ■ ■ »,K>.r<l !•'»■■■ *"-1 < .„.<<■ •• ■ ' •" »< ■ "'"■■ Ho.i-niarir lb • k ' . I 0 '• ' ■ 1 ■* ♦ ' 1• lull-., i »ph i’' igli» Mgni il I'** » - and cujinU i> 4 ’’’ v I '.< *phi- ■ *WI -^•r. 4 . •« , ,v)k i (...Ik- Janb • HUI* hlliTtur Inlii.c/mph l‘Hi< l’.,U«4 • ■ J»«t ( lilli • ti.r. ( » iph* ***12 -1 ■ •» I 1 *• • I i' • 4 npp* ’ r • l'.«l l«m< I> IT>1 0 . • 10 I » I (grffecwra Cr^Mrv tfi ! lOtMi l*l*r’2i ///«/< / II h>h |ilh«iyiapt 10 i H • ij, H» 4 !■• a •• » 11<J Ll I -J I (Jiri |«ifA I .1 ij-hrf I Carmen < i<. i» I. I‘>.n. |«e| I nMMaft k l*J Il.i.ll'i.. I'n.n “■■*»*/1 •/* u«aA fhtfi ««Ai lilltiigr.iiJ. '» » 1 ’. M, <r»pla. 13 V8 i U «l iippt r right i%.>jf i. - .• • J /2. /.’. lof • I I < .<|I|< Mgrtfd k*trr f»|b m4 ‘ i-liry vi“ bftptar-* •! Mar) I rank 'l» l*»43. I ogUfvb i.whW^ Hand '•igi»» 4 h-MrT jigh» ..»«•! nberrd 44/74 « »IM b ‘ "4U i f<,r. Graph I Hurtr ir»>1 ^Hirr IO t 12 V< lilh<-graph b«fyy«p*i. 10 a 14 Mpixd |r«**T n«h* Gil>rM- •» •«' Man I r ink b. |»#.'» { f ngtand; H "num I t, -j rf lifhopr.ph h» i 12 *'4 *£’’Nt-«l b « . r .i„nt «J ;•' % Antiiiiio F ra»roni b rttf> j»;h| • r »gr>Zti V•* rt " «M *o4 W10. I ruguav; R*4**n t .4^-4***< V»*94r IWirf) kih*<rsph )b t Z4 «yrd kmer t'^of I’M, •_ • ' l'.f hn.- gr,i.h ' Mf><r«pi<. 23 i ,, .j : [/■ <x4b«»«.? G> s-.- . /»» /.-/ <if 20 » 2 : <hud tow r.ght *i<4 . • ,J ; ;■ /, f ‘ i>. ".1 . . f p,‘, Jane Cr-Un her b. 1*24 I•! if! 1‘”' ' ; <• I ftfrhrrt Bwilb'^ I •' .• + -I !.,•< r rizht ^.,.4 , ( ,rap»j«-. • :' ) r,.-i r l^« r- baUtgrtpfe. 28 <21 l» y-*^ wr« »-r **•*! i xArcbm* ’ -r apb*"* • �CHECKLIST OF THE EXHIBITION Dimensions are given in inches, height precedes width. Milton Aven- (1893-1965) Landscape color lithograph, 22 x 27 3/4 signed lower left and numbered 4/118 Courtesy of an anonymous private collection Jane Freilicher (b. 1924) Landscape color lithograph, 28 5/8 x 23 signed lower left and numbered 22/104 Collectors Graphics #168 Rosemarie Beck (b. 1923) Hohnist Sketches lithograph. 12 3/4 x 10 signed lower right and numbered 30/85 Collectors Graphics #81 Paul Georges (b. 1923) Landscape lithograph, lOx 13 signed lower right and numbered 57/76 Collectors Graphics #181 Janice Biala (b. 1903, Poland) Interior lithograph, 12 1/2 x 10 signed upper right and numbered 37/95 Collectors Graphics #175 Paul Georges (b. 1923) Standing Child color lithograph, 29 x 22 1/2 signed lower right and numbered 18/112 Collectors Graphics #149 James Brooks (1906-1992) Black and White lithograph, 10 x 14 signed lower right and numbered 73/75 Collectors Graphics #85 Carmen Cicero (b. 1926) Bird Lives, 1960 lithograph, 9 x 13 signed upper right and numbered 68/85 Collectors Graphics #2 Mary Frank (b. 1933, England) Hand lithograph, 10 x 12 3/4 signed lower right and numbered 44/74 Collectors Graphics #187b Man Frank (b. 1933, England) Woman Figure lithograph. 10 x 12 3/4 signed lower right and numbered 61/67 Collector® Graphics #184 color lithograph. 26 x 22. Paul Georges (b. 1923) Binter Landscape, 1963 color lithograph, 22 1/2 x 28 signed lower right and numbered 17/117 Collectors Graphics #139 Joel Goldblatt (b. 1923) Still Life with Dark and Light lithograph, 13 5/8 x 10 signed lower right and numbered 25/85 Collectors Graphics #15 Robert Goodnough (b. 1917) Horse and Rider, 1960 lithograph, 10 x 14 signed lower right and numbered 69/85 Collectors Grapliics #18 Robert Goodnough (b. 1917) Horseman [Black & Sepia] color lithograph, 23 x 29 signed lower right and numbered 35/75 Collectors Graphics #22 Antonio Frasconi (b. 1919, Uruguay) Fifdd ofScrap, 1963 frAor lithograph, 29 x 23 signed and dated lower right and numbered cd /109 Collectors Graphics #169 Robert Goodnough (b. 1917) Nomads. 1960 lithograph, 10 x 14 signed lower right and numbered 68/85 Collectors Graphics #17 Jane FrHlieher (b. 1924) I^mdsr.uf/e lithograph. 23 x 28 3/4 rigned lower right and numhered 20/97 Graphics #151 Burt Hasen (b. 1921) Face Constellation, 1963 lithograph, 28x21 1/4 . signed lower right and numbered 25/1IH Collectors Graphics #138 John He liter (b.1909) Landscape lithograph, 10 x 12 3/4 signed lower right and numbered 84/90 Collectors Graphics #178 John Ilcliker (b. 1909) Self-Portrait lithograph, 12 5/8 x 9 5/8 signed lower right and numbered in blue pencil 70/85 Collectors Graphics #26 Wolf Kahn (b. 1927. Germany) Nude, Head Thrown Back lithograph, 10 x 14 signed lower left and numbered 69/85 Collectors Graphics #84 Alex Katz (b. 1927) Double Portrait [Ada] lithograph, 10 x 12 1/8 signed lower right and numbered 69/85 Collectors Graphics #32 David Levine (b. 1926) Animal Kingdom, 1963 color lithograph, 17 1/4 x 29 signed upper right and numbered 19/105 Collectors Graphics #157 David Levine (b. 1926) Fat Girl, 1963 lithograph, 17 5/8 x 13 1/8 signed and dated upper right and numbered 110/122 Collectors Graphics #133 Jacques Lipchitz (1891-1973, Lithuania) Title Unknown lithograph, 27 x 20 3/4 signed lower right and annotated artist s proof Courtesy of an anonymous private collection Jacques Lipchitz (1891-1973. Lithuania) Title Unknown lithograph, 24 x 19 signed lower right and annotated artist pn<of Courtesy of an anonymous private collaction �Marlsol [Escobar] (b. 1930, France) Foot and Faces. 1961 lithograph. 13 1/8 x 10 signed lower right and numbered 68/85 Collectors Graphics #72 Richard Mayhew (b. 1924) Trees lithograph, 10 x 12 3/4 signed lower left and numbered 19/89 Collectors Graphics #207 Michael Mazur (b. 1935) Figure Group lithograph, 23 x 28 3/4 signed lower right and numbered 48/88 Collectors Graphics #154 Michael Mazur (b. 1935) Untitled [Adult Holding a Child with Book] lithograph, 23 x 29 unsigned and unnumbered, edition of 85 Collectors Graphics #145 Reginald Pollack (b. 1924) Larry Rivers (1). 1923) Connecticut Landscape lithograph, 10x12 3/4 signed lower right and lithograph. 21 x 28 numbered 44/55 Collectors Graphics #187 Reginald Pollack (b. 1924) Landscape with Clouds lithograph, 9 7/8 x 12 3/4 signed lower right and numbered 20/65 Collectors Graphics #176 Reginald Pollack (b. 1924) Southampton Beach lithograph, 10 x 12 7/8 signed lower right and numbered 56/80 Collectors Graphics #185 Fairfield Porter (1907-1975) Child Writing [Lizzie Drawing] lithograph, 10x14 signed lower right and numbered 76/85 Collectors Graphics #94, Ludman #12 Mark McAfee You Will Never Catch Me color lithograph, 28 x 23 signed lower right and numbered 35/112 Collectors Graphics #141 Fairfield Porter (1907-1975) Snow Landscape lithograph, 8 1/2 x 13 signed lower left and numbered 30/85 Collectors Graphics #87, Ludm an #14 Walter Tandy Murch (1907-1967, Canada) Bricks lithograph, 23 x 19 signed lower right and annotated artist’s proof Collectors Graphics #68 Courtesy of an anonymous private collection Paul Resika (b. 1928) Child, 1963 lithograph. 12 3/4 x 10 signed lower right, dated and numbered 36/82 Collectors Graphics #192 Webster. 1961 Alvin Ross (1920-1975) Constantine Nivola (1911-1988, Sardinia) Two Beds, 1963 color lithograph, 28 7/8 x 22 signed in plate, dated and numbered 16/125 Collectors Graphics #144 I Fishing on the Amo color lithograph, 23 x 28 7/8 signed lower right and numbered 35/86 Collectors Graphics #163 Tobias Schneebaum (b. 1921) Jungle [Black] lithograph. 29 x 23 signed lower right and numbered 16/98 Collectors Graphics #153 Burton Silverman (b. 1928) Retired lithograph, 14 x 10 signed lower right and numbered 42/60 ) I I Collectors Graphics #77 Burton Silverman (1). 1928) Toledo at Nightfall 1 color lithograph . 20 3/4 x 27 3/8 signed lower right and numbered 29/120 Collectors Graphics #158 Reuben Tam (b. 1916, Hawaii) I Monhegan Shoreline lithograph. 22 1/2 x 23 5/8 signed lower right, titled and Paul Resika (b. 1928) Child Playing with Top, 1963 lithograph, 14x10 signed lower right, dated and numbered 105/111 Collectors Graphics #206 I signed and dated in the stone, low! •er right Courtesy of James (midman numbered 55/71 Collectors Graphics #114 Reuben Tam (b. 1916, Hawaii) I I I I Surf lithograph, 22 1/2 x. 28 5/8 Constantine Nivola (1911-1988, Sardinia) Two People in Bed, 1963 color lithograph, 29 x 23 signed center and numbered 16/127 Collectors Graphics #131 Philip Pearlstein (b. 1924) Ilandscape lithograph, 23 1/8 x 29 Mgni d lower right and numbered 69/75 Odlenm. Graplrn •. #69, Lundwrhr #1 Paul Resika (b. 1928) Seated Child, 1963 lithograph. 12 3/4x10 signed lower right, dated and numbered 74/80 Collectors Graphics #191 signed lower right, titled and numbered 39/53 Collectors Graphics #115 Jane Wilson (b. 1924) I I I Landscape Paul Resika (b. 1928) Standing Boy lithograph, 14x10 unsigned and unnumbered Collectors Graphics #205 color lithograph. 26 x 22. signed low er right and annotated arlLt s pn>*f Collectors Graphics #124 Courtesy of an anonymous private i �100015S511 WILKES UNIVERSITY LIBRARY �� Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Exhibition Programs, 1973-present Description An account of the resource Exhibition programs created by the Sordoni Art Gallery from 1973 to the present. Digitized by Wilkes University Archives interns, Zachary Mendoza and Sophia Kruspha. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Wilkes University Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Sordoni Art Gallery Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1973-present Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Wilkes University retains copyright of these exhibition programs. Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource Exhibition programs, flyers, and calendars. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 1994 November 13 The Drum Lithographs 1960-1963 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Milton Avery Rosemarie Beck Janice Biala James Brooks Carmen Cicero Mary Frank Antonio Frasconi Jane Freilicher Paul Georges Joel Goldblatt Robert Goodnough Burt Hasen John Heliker Wolf Kahn Alex Katz David Levine Jacques Lipchitz Marisol Escobar Richard Mayhew Michael Mazur Mark McAfee Walter Tandy Murch Constantine Nivola Philip Pearlstein Reginald Pollack Fairfield Porter Paul Resika Larry Rivers Alvin Ross Tobias Schneebaum Burton Silverman Reuben Tam Jane Wilson ClintonAdams Stanley I. Grand Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1994 November 13 - December 20 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Description An account of the resource The Drum Lithographs were made when artist Reginald Pollack and printer Jules Sherman were introduced. Type The nature or genre of the resource N/A Subject The topic of the resource N/A Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource SAG, Clinton Adams https://omeka.wilkes.edu/omeka/files/original/152ab81eb935e2bd8eafe65fdec8996b.pdf eb9cc444487b23248e3758507d4bc029 PDF Text Text ������ Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Exhibition Programs, 1973-present Description An account of the resource Exhibition programs created by the Sordoni Art Gallery from 1973 to the present. Digitized by Wilkes University Archives interns, Zachary Mendoza and Sophia Kruspha. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Wilkes University Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Sordoni Art Gallery Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1973-present Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Wilkes University retains copyright of these exhibition programs. Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource Exhibition programs, flyers, and calendars. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 1995 March 19 Selections from the Alice Henry Weston Collection Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Josef Albers Carl Andre John Cage Christo William de Kooning Jim Dine Jean Dubuffet Rafael Ferrer Richard Hamilton Hans Hofmann Robert Indiana Jasper Johns Wassily Kandinsky Franz Kline SolLeWitt Man Ray FrancisPicabia Robert Rauschberg Dorothea Rockburne Betye Saor Kurt Schwitters George Segal Robert Smithson Saul Steinberg Richard Tuttle Andy Warhal TomWeesselman AliceWeston Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1995 March 19 - April 23 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Type The nature or genre of the resource N/A Subject The topic of the resource N/A https://omeka.wilkes.edu/omeka/files/original/927713df343d3accbd36d6e7974ec35a.pdf 35a9fccf86fc48b32aba10b5fee36b15 PDF Text Text ������������������������������ https://omeka.wilkes.edu/omeka/files/original/ba65b90f2585b202055e57e4faae77a9.pdf d1c65acf3095f56b7077c6de8927baf7 PDF Text Text j < ijy 11 si ?■ • sord ii cos Gflie Twenties ad EH©m® anmofl AtWoaial] N40.1 DS15G7 1995 i I ��I I I The Twenties at _.o. HAKlEY LIBRAI WILKES UNIVERSI1 WILKES-BARRE, P �■■■ CUV IENE PC ECIS TTUn® TTwesrties aU H©m® ajunafl AQDir®ai(iI] Exhibition Curated by Stanley I Grand Essays by Betsy Fahlman Stanley I Grand Sordoni Art Gallery Wilkes University Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania May 21-August 13, 1995 ...x FAHlEY LIBRARY WILKES UNIVERSITY WILKES-BARRE, PA Westmoreland M useum of Art Greensburg, Pennsylvania September 3—October 29, 1995 ©1995 Sordoni Art Gallery Wilkes University, Wilkes-Bai Pennsylvania �f Imae The 1 Betsy Falilman Arizona State University GQjy DIENE [DUJ E<D0§ AND THE TWENTSES One of the most trenchant imagers of was the American painter Guy Pene cl (1884-1958); whose distinctive work some of the decade’s most sign ificant J symbols. 1 he artist pictured subjects e of the era: the sophisticated urbanite, and the American abroad in fashionab tings—cafes, theatres, and art galleries sentations are enriched by an internat perspective. American-horn, he was de URCHIVLS GA in his French family background. Yet thoroughly grounded in his native coi Throughout the nearly six years he res France as an expatriate, he steadfastly his faith in the American art world, w paintings were sold by his New York c Aanerican patrons. His dual frame of permitted him an unusual vantage on Americans at home and abroad. Spurred by postwar prosperity ar freedom afforded by the automobile, I tween the end of World War I in 19 H beginning of the Depression in 1929 as Frederick Lewis Allen n oted in 191 lution in manners and morals. 1 The were characterized hy intriguing socia 25. Woman on Sofa (Gretchen), 1927 oil on panel, 20 l/e x 25 in. The Brooklyn Museum Gift of the Chester Dale Estate Photograph courtesy The Brooklyn Museum cal changes that resulted in fascinatir Women received the right to vote in . same year that Prohibition became nJ While politicians promoted isolation! �Imagine the Twenties The Work of Guy Pene du Bois Betsy Faklman Arizona State University CDV PENE DD ECIS AND TEE TWENTIES tionalism predominated in intellectual circles, and Americans flocked to France. In the visual arts, Americans explored a range of stylistic options as One of the most trenchant imagers of the 1920s wide as the political and social ones. Many mem­ was the American painter Guy Pene du Bois bers of the earlier generation of The Eight con­ (1884-1958),'whose distinctive work exemplifies tinued to be active, as were those participants in some of the decade’s most significant cultural the first wave of the avant-garde, several of whom symbols. The artist pictured subjects emblematic evolved into Precisionists. A widespread renewal of the era: the sophisticated urbanite, tbe flapper, in more representational modes found its fullest and the American abroad in fashionable set­ expression in Regionalism. Although Guy Pene tings—cafes, theatres, and art galleries. His repre­ du Bois was intellectually supportive of new art sentations are enriched by an international movements, as a critic and a painter, his personal perspective. American-born, he was deeply rooted sympathies steadfastly remained aligned with the in his French family background. Yet he remained “art for life’s sake”2 realism of his early teacher thoroughly grounded in his native country. Robert Henri. Pene du Bois' most eloquent and Throughout the nearly six years he resided in insightfid criticism was written in support of France as an expatriate, he steadfastly maintained those artists whose work grew out of the romantic his faith in the American art world, where his urban realism of the turn of the century, rather paintings were sold by his New York dealer to than the avant-garde. If no single American style American patrons. His dual frame of reference existed, certain icons, such as the American girl permitted him an unusual vantage on his fellow abroad, were widely recognized. Despite their di­ Americans at home and abroad. vergent styles and images, many of these artists Spurred by postwar prosperity and the new shared a deep belief in the viability of American freedom afforded by the automobile, the era be­ art, and a sense that a personal identity derived tween the end of World War I in 1918 and the from being grounded within a national one. Even beginning of the Depression in 1929 produced, when abroad, whether as temporary visitors or as Frederick Lewis Allen noted in 1931, a “revo­ long-term expatriates, the sensibility that they lution in manners and morals."1 The twenties were American artists remained strong. were characterized by intriguing social and politi­ The painting of Guy Pene du Bois came to cal changes that resulted in fascinating contrasts. maturity during the twenties. As an independent, Women received the right to vote in 1920, the he never associated himself with a specific school same year that Prohibition became national law. or movement; but scholars today, broadly speak­ While politicians promoted isolationism, interna- ing, consider him a social realist. His characteris- 95-191983 �1 tic themes were inspired by the human figure set in situations the artist had seen in life and recre­ ated from memory. He was fascinated by socia interactions and class roles, but issues of social protest or attempts to effect political change did not interest him. Drawing on the tradition of caricature and commentary found in the work of his French predecessors Honore Daumier (18081879) and Jean Louis Forain (1852-1931), his social commentary took a sharp view of contem­ porary society. His titles, such as The Social Regis­ ter, 1919 (private collection), tend to be ironically humorous rather than bitingly sarcastic. With New York as its center, twenties America emerged an urban nation. During these years, 7 Ac Smart Set and Vanity Fair, among other journals, catered to a sophisti­ cated Manhattan readership. But the contents Jise, was published in 1920—were another ana­ logue to the art of Guy Pene du Bois. For a short time, he was the painter's neighbor in Westport, Connecticut, as was Van Wych Brooks, who char­ acterized the author as “the typical writer of the twenties. ”6 Throughout the next decade, Fitzgerald and Pene du Bois analyzed the behav­ ior and attitudes of Americans at home and in France. Their precise satire both amuses and dis­ comfits, as they carefully delineated American society to create a sharply accurate picture of the era. Since Pene du Bois never had the money of Fitzgerald and his friends, his images are more those of an observer than those of a full partici­ pant. But his many years as a music reviewer and an art critic gave him ample opportunity to study his subjects in their characteristic habitats. One of his paintings, Gretchen or Wbman on Sofa, of The New Yorker, which first appeared on 21 1927 (Cat. No. 25), though painted in France, February 1925, most closely parallel the may have been inspired by a Fitzgerald short painted themes of Guy Pene du Bois. Its so­ story, in which one of the main characters, phisticated and witty columns— The Talk of Gretchen Halsey, was described as “a bright-col­ the Town” or “Tables for Two —reflected the ored, Titian-haired girl, vivid as a French rag major interests of its affluent readers by con­ doll."7 Much of the tale’s significant action takes centrating on night life, restaurants, sports, place on a sofa, and Pene du Bois' image evokes theatre, and opera. A “Letter from Paris,” an the author’s prose. important feature made famous by Janet Flanner, signaled the international, Franco­ phile perspective of its readership. During the 1920s, however, all cafe society 1 Tire two decades prior to the twenties were full ones for the artist, conducted at a pace that meant erratic time in his studio. He had begun art classes in 1899, studying first un der William interactions were colored by the widely available, but legally proscribed, liquor.3 The Eighteenth Merritt Chase, th en with Robert Henri. After Amendment, which ereated Prohibition, hecame law with tbe passage of the Volstead Act in 1920 where economic necessity led him to embark on a and remained in effect until its repeal in 1933. father s professional footsteps, he published his Enforcement, however, concentrated on produc­ first pieces of art criticism in 1908. His marriage tion and distribution rather than on consump­ tion. Consequently, in larger cities like New York, further training in Paris, he returned to America, career as a reporter in 1906. Following in his had in 1911 to Florence She rman Duncan, who three children from a previous marriage, added the law was openly flouted as nightclubs, speak­ new financial responsibilities, which increased easies, and bootleggers flourished. Catering to the with the births of their daughter Yvonne in 1913 well-off uptown crowd, many of these establish­ ments were luxurious and provided the atmo­ sphere of an exclusive club for their clandestine drinkers, whose defiantly heavy drinking became known as “the respectable crime.”4 Recalling the twenties, Janet Flanner characterized the time as “that extraordinary alcoholic era.”5 Like The New Yorker, the writings of F. Scott Fitzgerald—whose first first novel, This Side of Para- and son William in 1916. Not until 1918, at the age of thirty-four, did he have a one-man exhibi­ tion—at the Whitney Studio Club (his first group showing had occurred in 1905 at the Paris Sa­ lon). For Pene du Bois, the twenties are chrono­ logically divided into two sections—the four years he spent in Westport, with frequent commutes to New York City, and the nearly six years he spent in France. < �~ ? r' =- 5 e £- r 5-.X- 42 - ifiiff! =.?-siF""r L § ? 12. The Beach, 1924 oil oni panel, triptych, each panel 20 x 15 in. SheldtIon Memorial Art Gallery, University of Nebraska-Lincoln F. M. Hall Collection Photograph courtesy Sheldon Memorial Art Gallery �11). Indeed, Guy Pene du Bois painted very little in Connecticut. A notable exception, and one of i his major works, is the triptych titled The Beach, Between 1920 and 1924, Guy Pane du Bois resided in Westport, a pretty village about bitty miles from New York in southwestern Connecti­ cut. Connected by commuter train, the town had become, according to Van Wyck Brooks who a so moved there in 1920, "an outpost of New York, the setting for "exurbanites,”9 those displaced city dwellers "who lived heyond the suburbs but who "who cared more for the state of their minds than the state of their fortunes.’’11 The small intellec­ tual community that gathered there had a distinc­ ing and comfortable "grace, friendliness, gaiety and tolerance.’’12 Residents and regular visitors ralither than a bathing costume. In 1924, he decided to leave the United States with his family; in December they sold their house in Westport and “escaped to France.”18 With anticipated fees from occasional articles, Guy Pene du Bois hoped he could afford a year abroad. With uninterrupted time in his studio, his aim was clear: “I could become a paintei EEAWCE; EOEE AS AN EX ED AT 020 AIT IE Since the late nineteenth century, many Ameri­ during this period included writers F. Scott Fitz­ gerald (newly married to Zelda Sayre), Van Wyck can artists had felt that a sojourn in Paris was Brooks, Paul Rosenfeld, Sherwood Anderson, and essential for their artistic development. During Hendrik Willem Van Loon, and artists Everett the twenties, however, a particularly ambitious Shinn and Charles and Maurice Prendergast. and vital colony of expatriate writers and painters The cost of living may have been economi­ I community, the artist is shown clothed in a suit, nor an "arty Provincetown, ’ Westport had an appeal­ 'll ing his position as an economic outsider within this the money realized from the sale of their home and remained urbanites at heart/’10 The town at­ tracted a group of New York writers and artists tive character: neither a serious Barbizon, 1924 (Cat. No. 12) which records a gathering of his friends on Compo Beach, Westport. Perhaps signify­ resided there. Although Americans had long lived cal, but the town did not turn out to be the quiet abroad, "expatriate," as Van Wyck Brooks observed, haven for work the artist had anticipated: assumed new mea ning in the 1920s: "No Furopean could understand this constant American talk of In this prohibition period the summers at Westport, Connecticut, exceeded the riotousness of New York. There gin and orange juice ruled the days and n ights. Talk was an extravaganza. Work was an effort made between parties.13 roots, or why it was that expatriates discussed expa­ triation—a word that scarcely existed in any other country. 19 Despite the pleasures of foreign life, long residence abroad often intensified a personal sensi­ bility of national roots. Although many Americans So identified was the town with flouting Anita Loos 1925 novel Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, Marion Levy, who ran the local Compo Inn, was that exhibited in New York, it was nicknamed “The devine, Bootlegger’s Wife.”14 Pene du Bois found life in Westport bacchanalian, 18 and he characterized its intellectually and professionally eminent resi­ dents as unbridled children”16 when they as­ sembled for parties. Although his house had 1 a good studio, the many convivial temptations p> —c--------- - proved irresistible to the gregarious artist. He found it necessary to retreat to the relative solitude of his New York studio in the Colonnade Building, where he ex­ ecuted Studio on Lafayette Street, 1923 (Cat. No. . III might agree with Lorelei Lee, the protagonist in prohibition, that when his 1924 portrait of Paris is devine. . . . Because the French are regular encounters with fellow country­ men were actually more common: *T always think that the most delightful thing about traveling is to always he running into Americans and to al­ ways feel at home.”21 Remembering the distractions of Westport and finding Paris too expensive, the Pene du Bois family settled in Games, a village in the Chei jvreuse Valley near Dampierre, about thirty miles fr<rom the capital. Reasonable rent (eighty dolla:irs a year), steady sales through Kraushaar, and care! ?ful economizing, enabled them to remain �ay Pena du Bois painted very little ■1. A notable exception, and one of s, is the triptych titled The Beach, >. 12) which records a gathering of his rpo Beach, Westport. Perhaps signify.. t as an economic outsider within this e artist is shown clothed in a suit, athing costume. he decided to leave the United family; in December they sold their >ort and ‘escaped to France.”18 With ized from the sale of their home and :s from occasional articles, Guy hoped he could afford a year minterrupted time in his studio, his “I could become a painter.”16 I J s LBfE I KPATKIATE nineteenth century, many Ameri1 felt that a sojourn in Paris was reir artistic development. During rowever, a particularly ambitious ay of expatriate writers and painters Although Americans had long lived riate," as Van Wyck Brooks observed, neaning in the 1920s: “No European ind this constant American talk of t was that expatriates discussed expa>rd that scarcely existed in any other ispite the pleasures of foreign life, long ad often intensified a personal sensiral roots. Although many Americans ith Lorelei Lee, tke protagonist in 925 novel Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, levine. . . . Because the French are jular encounters with fellow countryually more common: “I always think t delightful thing about traveling is running into Americans and to al- Lome. ”21 bering the distractions of Westport Paris too expensive, the Pene du Bois 1 in Games, a village in the alley near Dampierre, about thirty he capital. Reasonable rent (eighty r), steady sales through Kraushaar, economizing, enabled them to remain 11. Studio on Lafayette Street, 1923 oil on panel, 19Vi x 24Va in. Bayly Art M useum of tke Univers ity of Virginia Photograph by Edwin S. Roseberry �I >r nearly six years-This period proved in be France fol productive of his career, he later the most ieJ: It was in Games that I learned to to recalled: "It ■ ”22 Working steadily, he create pain mgs paint. piled from memory and experience. Only o«a sionally did he paint a landscape, a st JI life, or A girl came in the cafe and sat by herself at . near the window. She was very pretty with a f • as a newly minted coin if they minted coin ■ , th flesh with rain-freshened shin, and her it •• . as a crow's wing and cut sharply and dia,.. . ?.:roes her cheek.-3 The artist was particularly fascinate.' ’ the subject of his countrymen and women abroad, frOmAltkih he favored pictures of international especially the many young American . twenties types, identihably French themes become saw all over Paris. Easily identified, he printed increasingly frequent during his expatriate years. Scenes inspired by the area near their kouse ap­ pear in kis work, including Pont du four, 1926 (Cat. No. 19), which skows a man and a woman standing near a local viaduct. Tke urban mil.eu of Paris, however, interested him primarily, and he made frequent visits to the French capital where n he several canvasses picturing them in pub!: ■ .rial contexts, including, Girls, Montparnasse. I (Cat. No. 24) and Girl at Montparnasse, i ■ > >7 (Cat. No. 23).® Once again, the artist echoes literary works. Describing similar young women in Tender Is the Night, F. Scott Fitzgerald noted their "immaculacy and their money' as they he occasionally went to gatherings attended by "pourfed] through the station onto the platforms French artists; Bal des Quatres Arts, 1929 (Cat. with frank new faces, intelligent, considerate, No. 34) records a famous annual Parisian art thoughtless, thought-for.”30 Americans in Paris, event. Like the majority of other Americans abroad, however, he had contact mostly with other canvasses, serves as an icon of the period. Four Americans. Parisian cafes, including La Coupole, Le Select, La Rotonde, Les Deux Magots, and the 1927 (Cat. No. 22), one of his most emblematic nearly identical young women “swoop down on their prey/’5’ striding briskly on their way to shop or sight see: Closerie des Lilas, were the social and intellectual centers of expatriate life.24 Although some of them had been founded earlier, their popularity, as H evidenced in Paris Cafe, 1926 (Cat. No. 18), led several to expand during the twenties. One, the Cafe du Dome on the Boulevard du Mont­ parnasse at the comer of the B oulevard Raspail, was widely recognized as "the Anglo-American While living at Games, the artist m<lade periodic visits to America, traveled throughout France,and on occasion, visited other European out the 1920s with the many artists and writers countries. In June 1926, he participated in the who lived and worked in this part of the city.26 unveiling of Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney’s Dome, described the cafe in A Moveable Feast, the autobiographical memoir of his years in Paris I ' tightest of head gear aiincl their skin tight (rocky of the shortest, showing an expanse of handsome leg* cafe.”25 Opened in 1898, it was popular through­ Ernest Hemingway, a frequent patron at the E They are crossing a bridge, their handbags clasped as only Americans clasp their wealth, since only Ameri­ 1 cans thus carry it about, their heads encasitedI-in the between 1921 and 1926: monument at Saint-Nazaire. J hat summer, the family vacationed at the coast, where he was in­ spired to paint nearby beach and racetrack scenes, including Beach, Deauville, 1926 (collection un­ known) and Racetrack, Deauville, 1927 (M useum It was a pleasant cafe, warm and clean and friendly, and I hung up my old waterproof on the coat rack to dry and put my worn and weathered felt hat on the rack above the bench and ordered a cafe au lait. The walter brought it and I took out a notebook from the pocket of the coat and a pencil and started to write.27 of Art, Carnegie Institute). Occasional commis­ sions permitted travel outside France. A trip to Italy resulted in a major painting, Studio Window, Anticoli, 1928 (Cat. No. 32). In April 1929, he traveled to Huelva, on the Spanish coast, for tke dedication of Whitney s monument to Christopher Columbus. Tke young woman he describes could be a subject in a P6ne du Bois canvas: easily The Pene du Bois family remained in Games until m id-October 1929, when they III I I I I JK ■ fl �sal by herself at a table cry pretty with a face fresh rey minted coins in smooth ;in, and her hair was black arply and diagonally across cularly fascinated hy the n and women abroad, ig American women he identified, he painted ig th em in public social s, Montparnasse, 1927 t Montparnasse, 1927 gain, the artist echoes ! g similar young women . Scott Fitzgerald noted heir money as they ation onto the platforms :elligent, considerate, ! •J’20 Americans in Paris, e of his most emblematic i Ii ion of the period. Four omen “swoop down on shly on their way to shop , their handbags clasped as wealth, since only Amerireir heads encased in the heir skin tight frocks of the i ise of handsome leg.3' •nes, the artist made peri­ raveled throughout , visited other European >, he participated in the anderbilt Whitney's zaire. That summer, the coast, where he was ineach and racetrack scenes, ills, 1926 (collection un- Deauville, 1927 (Museum ite). Occasional commis- utside France. A trip to r painting, Studio Window, ). 32). In April 1929, he the Spanish coast, for the s monument to Christo- 34. Bal des Quatres Arts, 1929 oil on canvas, 28% x 36!6 in. The David and Allred Smart Museum ol Art, The University of Chicago Gift of William Benton Photograph courtesy The David and Alfred Smart Museum of Art family remained in 'ber 1929, when they �moved to Nice in the south of France,Several red-walled gallery, where the gallery owner waits to works, including a watercolor Avenue dela _ , Victoire, Nice, W29 (Cat. No. 33), res,suited from which reflected the general health of the art mar­ intercept him. Such luxurious environments, ket in the postwar economy, were designed ex­ i his stay here.33 sought to he as successful as collectors as they MAJOR themes ! ?• pressly for “the captivation of tycoons,”39 who Throughout the twenties, both in America and in were in business. Despite his generally cynical view of dealers France, several characteristic themes absorbed and galleries—Little Redon/The Art Dealer, 1925 Guy Pene du Bois—the art world, cafes and res­ (collection unknown), for example, presents the taurants, theatres and other amusements, flap­ avaricious pretentiousness he ascribed to many in pers, and relationships between men and women. the business—Guy Pene du Bois owed his per- This last theme had long preoccupied Pene du sonal economic success during this period to John Bois; he recalled that he had "started the series of Francis Kraushaar. The dealer had given the artist little pictures of men and women in full dress li is first one-man exhibition in 1922, and he which first drew attention to my paintings’’34 dur­ continued to show his worts regularly throughout ing his days as a music and opera critic. Fasci­ the next twenty-five years. The artist’s warm rela­ nated by the nature of social discourse as conveyed through body language, lie found such tionship with this well-respected dealer is docu­ mented in Portrait ofJohn Kraushaar, 1927 (Cat. environments ideal. In public places he could No. 29).39 The painter’s feelings are apparent in unobtrusively study his subjects playing their so­ an a ffectionately inscribed work, The Opera cial roles on privileged stage sets. The roles and Singer, 1927 (Cat. No. 26), which he gave to interchanges he observed were as contrived and Kraushaar’s daughter Antoinette. carefully constructed as in any scripted produc­ tion. THE ART WORLD: GALLERIES, DEALERS, AND RATRONS As a critic and artist, Guy Pene du Bois had RESTAURANTS AND GTHER AMUSEMENTS lhe rituals and conventions of dining out had long fascinated the artist. Many of his earliest works, including Caseade Restaurant, Bois du Boulogne, 190o (collection unknown) and Waiter!, ample opportunities to study galleries, dealers, 1910 (collection unknown), picture restaurant and patrons. Set in the interior of a gallery. The patrons. Unlike John Sloan, who depicted the Art Lovers, 1922 (private collection) records two separatist masculine atmosphere found in men conversing. One of these hard-boiled gentle­ McSorley s Bar, 1912 (Detroit Institute of Arts), men, the balding "old rounder”35 in a “bulging dress shirt,”36 was the artist's most characteristic male type. Pene du Bois took an equally sharp view of the painting s owner, the efficiency expert Charles E. Bedaux, Bed; by observing that he is generally as accurate and as ruthless as the figures in which he deals. He shares with all mathematicians the Pene du Bohis was interested in couples. In particular, he was intrigued by the lack of interpersonal di:iscourse between the couples he saw, many of whom comprised an older man and a younger woman. Restaurant scenes, of course, had been favor­ ite themes of Edgar Degas, Edouard Manet, and love of clarity, the proof which, rid of all human Pierre Auguste Renoir, all of whom Pene du Bois foibles is positive. Life can he very simple when admired. Members of The Eight had also enjoyed sheared to the bone by people of this unrelenting order Tki they are ot the family of dictators.37 painting such scenes; one recalls the relaxed el­ With a top hat concealing his bald head, another rounder, appropriately •cleer, 1922 (Cat. No. 6), strides into a similar egance of William Glackens’ Chez Mouquin, 190o (Art Institute of Chicago) or John Sloan’s lively Renganeschi's Saturday Night, 1912 (Art Insti­ tute of Chicago).40 Closer to Pene du Bois in mood is the lonely tension evident in his friend �all ivi romnents,. :ed the genera! health of the art marstar economy, were designed exhe captivation of tycoons, 39 who as successful as collectors as they less. his cynical view of dealers his generally gen —Little Redon/The Art Dealer, 1925 iknown), for example, presents the stentiousness he ascribed to many in —Guy Pene du Bois owed his perlic success during this period to John =haar. The dealer had given the artist nan exhibition in 1922, and he show his works regularly throughout ty-five years. The artist's warm relathis well-respected dealer is docutrait ofJohn Kraushaar, 1927 (Cat. le painter’s feelings are apparent in ely inscribed work, The Opera (Cat. No. 26), which he gave to aughter Antoinette. RANTS AND k/HLSEMENTS d conventions of dining out had 1 the artist. Many of his earliest ng Cascade Restaurant, Bois du 5 (collection unknown) and Waiter!, on unknown), picture restaurant se John Sloan, who depicted the culine atmosphere found in r, 1912 (Detroit Institute of Arts), was interested in couples. In parintrigued by the lack of interper2 between the couples he saw, many irised an older man and a younger it scenes, of course, had been favortdgar Degas, Edouard Manet, and '■ Renoir; all of whom Pene du Bois bers of The Eight had also enjoyed scenes; one recalls the relaxed elam Glackens CAez Mouquin, 1905 af Chicago) or John Sloan’s lively ^aturday Night, 1912 (Art Instio)-40 Closer to Pene du Bois in nely tension evident in his friend 29. Portrait ofJohn Kraushaar, 1927 watercolor and ink on paper, 14 x 11% in. Private Collection Photograph hy Geoffrey Clements, courtesy Kraushaar Galleries �I t ill Edward Hopper’s Automat, 1927 (Des Moines Art Center), in which a woman, wearing cheaply bought clothes imitative of more expensive fash­ ions, dines alone. Absent is the male waiter who appears in many of Pene du Bois’ «staurant scenes including Mr. and Mrs. Chester Dale Din­ ing Out, 1924 (Metropolitan Museum of Art) at the Hotel Brevoort in New York. Two years later in Cafe Madrid, 1926 (Cat. No. 15), Pene du Bois again depicted Chester Dale and his first wife Maud, two of his major patrons, seated at a restaurant table.41 The pres­ ence of two bottles of champagne implies that other guests are expected to join them. Dale s wife was a painter, and together they formed a sub­ stantial collection of nineteenth- and twentieth­ century French and American art, much of which was bequeathed to the National Gallery of Art. Dale, who began buying the artist’s work in the late teens, eventually owned twenty-five of his works.42 Reflecting their mutual great enthusiasm for French art, the artist accompanied the collec­ tor on one buying trip. Describing the frenzied pace of this trip, however, the artist concluded that Dale was “the slave of his nerves.”43 At heart a painter of people, especially recog­ nizable types, Pene du Bois frequently depicted the leisure time activities of his privileged sub­ jects. In Billboard, 1920 (Cat. No. 1), a woman with her feet inelegantly and firmly set on the ground peruses an opera performance schedule. The race track was a constant source of inspira­ tion for Pene du Bois as well. In Sports Women, France, 1926 (private collection), he depicted two women, wearing coats and cloche hats to protect them from the cool fall air at the track, possibly Longchamps. Sport for them is a spectator enter­ prise; they are observers of horses, rather than riders. THE FLAEPEK: TEE TWENTIES WOMAN AS SOCIETY VAMPIKE With the publication of Fitzgerald’s This Side of Paradise, the flapper entered the popular par­ lance.-4 A distinctively twenties woman, her physique, age, and attitude towards life remain that era s most effervescent symbol.”45 The flapper clad her slender boyish figure in thin, straight short-skirted dresses with long waists. Her pale face was carefully decorated with newly popular cosmetics, and her legs were covered in silk stock­ ings. For evening, her dress was sleeveless, held on her shoulders by thin straps and accented by a few pieces of elegantly simple jewelry. During the day, she wore a small soft-brimmed cloche hat as in Subway Steps, 1926 (Cat. No. 20), to cover her short bobbed hair. “Flappery” represented a bold social rebellion by women—there was no equivalent male type— with nerve, who were identified as “shameless, selfish and honest.’’46 Many of her characteristics implied, if not outright indecency, at least impro­ priety, as she defied social strictures placed on young women but not on young men. She smoked in public, as well as drank; one historian observed: “Cigarette in mouth and cocktail in hand, she appeared to be both shocking and unshockable.”47 Her forum of social equality was somewhat ephemeral for it was not matched by comparable economic and political independence. Interested in neither the intellectual pursuits of the educated woman nor in a career or job, this fashi onably nonchalant creature appeared self-centered, plea­ sure-seeking, high spirited, and charmingly amus­ ing, with a spontaneous exuberance that could also be interpreted as "fast.” In his popular car­ toons, John Held, Jr., helped to popularize this familiar image of the carefree and coltish flap­ per.48 Emphasizing the less giddy side of this twen­ ties woman, the writings of F. Scott Fitzgerald and the paintings of Guy Pene du Bois provide a more ominous image of the flapper.44 As Zelda Sayre FitzgeraId ob served in a 1922 article on flapperdom, the flapper put on “a great deal of audacity and rouge and went into battle."50 Make­ up was the war paint for serious conflict between the sexes. Another commentator of the time omi­ nously described the "pallor mortis, poisonously scarlet lips, richly ringed eyes.""51 51 Flappers were, as Zelda s husband warned, "dangerous girls”;52 in­ deed one of his characters declared “I want to be a society vampire. ”:>3 Underneath her pert exterior, the flapper was a threatening and predatory creature. i5- ctiJ ■ ' He, __ K �ll-in, aists weur|.ly "rMe ‘-i in sifeveL ’?’ held °n Jy*U "■ 'le d*y, as in =ovei !r her j social rehelliOn e”t male s shatneltype^ ( less, * charact< ;eristiCs at lee;* !ast impro. :es Placed -''>1 on ^n- She one historian dcocbtailill sclring and t I I was somewhat by comparable nee. Interested > of the educated > fashionably -centered, plealarmingly amus:e that could s popular car>pularize this co tish flap- i i ide of this twen>tt Fitzgerald Bois provide a r.49 As Zelda 22 article on a great deal of battle.”50 Make- ,nflict between ,f the time oim; poisonously :laPPVS”Te'-3S us girls ' ‘J* “I want to ath her pert ming 15. Cafe Madrid (Portrait of Mr. and Mrs. Chester Dale), 1926 oil on panel, 21% x 18 in. Museum of Fine Arts, St. Petersburg, Florida Bequest of John Hinkle Photograph courtesy Museum of Fine Arts �delations between mew ANO WOMEN? SOC0AE AN1D eoonesses Few American artists have pictured the difficulties of negotiating relationships between men and women more sharply than Guy Pene du Bois. His frequent depictions of couples enabled him to explore the mental separation and emotional es­ trangement that served as an invisible barrier to discourse despite their physical proximity. In On the Bridge, 1926 (Cal. No. 17) a couple, warmly dressed in hat and coats, stands overlooking the river. Yet they remain self-absorbed and con­ sciously distanced from each other: the cold win­ ter weather, further emphasized by the leafless tree, is a metaphor of their personal chill. Although lie shared a common sensibility with Edward Hopper, who emphasized loneliness I and isolation. Guy Pene du Bois was more inter­ ested in the sharp nature of social discourse than with emotional barrenness. In George Moore with Seated Woman, 1920 (Cat. No. 2), the wellknown Irish author sits uncomfortably on one end of a couch while a woman relaxes. The Life Soldier, 1922 (Cat. No. 9) makes a visual pun at the woodenness of the military male. Although attired in an elegant evening dress, his compan­ ion’s stiffness suggests the mechanical quality ol their social interactions. Another painting of a military couple, Pets, 1927 (Cat. No. 28) makes a similar pun by means of the placement of the soldier's sword. Finally, the bizarrely humorous Country Wedding, 1929 (Cat. No. 35) satirizes the institution of marriage, while In the Wings, 1921 (Cat. No. o) recreates a backstage scene in which two young dancers in tutus are approached by a cane-carrying older man whose intentions are unclear. His protagonists, whose elegant evening clothes serve as social armor and as defining “signs or symbols of sophistication,”54 display th. same tensions already seen in his cafe women and flappers. Their clothes, which both provide cam­ ouflage and serve as social signifies, are key to their roles, as he observed, "clothes define social r -_ ?O£‘1™: even the age of the wearer’s wealth. » In formal evening dress, such figures were interchangeable: “his clothes are patterned like sheep in flocks or like fish in schools ”56 One of his canvasses, Shovel Hats, 1923 (Cat. No. 10), takes its title simply from an article clothing worn by several of the women who arc pictured. If the flapper had changed sexual mores the conventions of class structure remained more rigidly prescribed, and relations between men and women were mediated under extremely difficult conditions. By way of emphasizing their rigid social roles, Guy Pene du Bois occasionally de­ picted his figures as mannequins, deliberately emphasizing the inflexibility of the possible courses of action open to them, lypical is his drawing Ihe Social Lion, 1921—1923 (\Y liilney Museum of American Art), described in the cap­ tion as one who changed from one suit of clothes to another,”57 For all their political and economic dominance, his males are as powerless to escape the strictures imposed by society as hit) fvrnalc counterparts. In leather and Son, 1929 (Cat. No. 36), the artist makes it ciear that the young man will become like his father. I be* ‘ invat is a pen­ dant to Mother and Daughter, 1928 (Cat. No. 31), which posits a comparable situation/' t ETUI N TO AHELM .A In October 1929, Guy Pene Ju Bois was in Nice when lie learned of the disastrous stock market crash, which signaled the beginning of an interna­ tional depression. As he recailed, th e art market fueled by “the fantastic gush of money in sense­ less circulation had ceased.”59 For many expatri­ ates, the drastic economic change automatically meant repatriation. While Pine du Bois recog­ nized that his time abroad would soon end, he was able to remain in France another six months. In April 1930, he arrived back in New York: “I had returned to my native city almost forgotten except among those who set me down as an expatriate and with a deep regret which had somehow com­ bined with a temperamental inability to slide back into its rhythms.”60 New York bore little resem­ blance to the city he had left: "It took me a long time to get under the skin of my own people. They had become strangers to me.”61 Drooping American Flag, 1930 (collection unknown), sums up his mood of economic dispiritedness and per­ sonal dislocation. �tn 1923 1 01 aQ r.. (Cat are nal ^°res- th,ie ined ^ore Ween and iely djlf?11 ? n<t He,r rigid p?nallyde. eltberatel Possilde is his ’3 (Whitney ln cap. SU1.tof clothes and economic pS to escape his female ’29 (Cat. No. e young man ■^s is a pen- (Cat. No. ition.°8 is was in Nice ock marlset of an intema» art market ■ ~i ey in sensetany expatriitomatically Bois recogm end, he was ; months. In York: “I had rgotten except expatriate nehow comr to glide back ittle resem>k me a n people- 1 Droops 2nown),^S ieSs pe 36. Father and Son, 1929 oil on canvas, 21 Vi x 18 in. Whitney Museum of American Art Purchase Photograph by Geoffrey Clements, courtesy Whitney M useum of American Art �1. See Chapter 5, in Allen, Only Yesterday, pp- 88-122. 2. Guy Pdne du Bois (GPDB), Artists Say the Silliest Things (ASTST), p. 84. 3. One painting, titled appropriately Prohibition (collection unknown), was shown al the Whitney Studio Club in 1927. 4. Sinclair, Prohibition: The Era of Excess, p. 220. 5. Flanner, Paris Was Yesterday, 192O—1939, P- xix. 6. Van Wyck Brooks, Days of the Phoenix, p. 108. 7. Fitzgerald, “Gretchen’s Forty Winks,” in Six Talcs of the Jazz Age, p. 176. 8. Ibid., p. 7. 9. Ibid., p. 110. 10. Ibid. 11. Ibid., p. 1. 12. ASTST, p. 215. 13. ASTST, pp. 213-214. 14. ASTST, P. 214. 15. ASTST. P. 214. 16. ASTST, P. 215. 17. ASTST, P. 216 18. ASTST, p. 216. 19. Van Wyck Brooks, Days of the Phoenix, pp. 2—3. 20. Loos, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, p. 93. Th roughout the book Lorelei Lee misspells words by way of demon­ strating her high intellectual accomplishments. 21. Ibid., p. 63. 22. ASTST, P. 249. 23. ASTST, P. 251. 24. Such subjects had inspired the work of other American artists, including paintings like Soir Bleu, 1914 (Whitney Museum of American Art) by Edward Hopper and Cafe, Paris, 1929 (private collection) by Archibald J. Motley, Jr. (1891-1981). Motley, who portrayed black urban Ameri­ cans, admired Pene du Bois’ Americans in Paris. See Jontyle Theresa Robinson and Wendy Greenhouse, Tire Art of Mot'^Jr- (CLi«g°= Chicago Historical Society, J n T9 Parisian establishments frequented .requenrea by oy Guy uuy Pene rene du Bois inspired sevc ’ * ' feral1 important paintings, including Cafe Monnof, c. 1928-1920 (Whitney Mu-, um ,,{ American Ari), The Cafe, 1925 (New York, Ruu ian Tea Roca), and Pierrot TircJ, c. 1927 (Corcoran Gallery of Art), which pictures a common scene in his wort a silent couple shar­ ing a table and a drink. 25. ASTST p. 113. 26 One of Pens du Bais' ui- ■ I -trilring t n, ., ( ji, Ju Dome, 1925- 1926 (National Gallery of Art), depict, th,, establishment. Another painting, Morning Pune Cafe. 1926 (Whitney Museum of American Art), w ; inspired by a young woman he had .-.een one evening at the Ddme 27. Hemingway, "A Good Cab- - ■■ the Pl Michel,” in A Moicabk Feast, p, 5. 28. Ibid. 29. Other exam pic. include AmcHraH Girls at Rail­ road Station, Paris. 19.26 (collection unknown), lie Girls, Montmartre,1927 (Phillip^ Collection), and (Ar/;. CAump* Elysecs, c. 1925 (private collection). 30. Fitzgerald, Tender Is the Night, p. 83. 31. “American Painters* Work,” New York Tures, 11 December 1927. 32. Helen Henderson, “Viewing \V<»rkbyGPT)B Philadelphia Inquirer, 6 November 1927. 33. Other works executed in A. ice include Grande Bleue, Nice, 1930 (collect! on unknown) and Place Ma. A>«, 1930 (collection unknown). 34. 35. 36. 37. ASTST, ASTST, ASTST, ASTST, P. P. P. p. 128. 191 191. 253. In 1927, Pent fir,-.. painwl a portrait of Bedatu.’s vile ii: liaiy. ike'r ■ social status is attested by the fact that Iluire st l.r.-b . r married in the Bcdaux's French chateau. 38. GPDB, quoted in Van Wyck BnxAfJ**" A Painter's Life (New York: E. P. Dutton, 1955? 12. 39. Krausbaar’s distinctive r. ’.r.d Erm also a 1926 print by John Sioan. „ were .... favorite 40. Many of the New York eateries tr*em. 1 u»wx.-— -haunts of the artists who uepicxcu depicted them. Patron. ot tr* jjJ,. 1Q17 anJ Roman^ Marc ylane'’ss.. 1922, the subjects .ubf«* «* print, by Sloan, enjoyed the inexpensive kn,t«ou»n«* « f �e, ~n Mio r h,s a, 4 n-^g3 ' Cn i iok’o2 ’ 4fH **°n'.ic fi».fD‘n 1940 '=• ‘ s’7 ; ' d a drink. ®T hb ’/^P^eduBoi. ^ . ■ most Another painting * eujnotAxnerica^AZ jiX-'" lean Art w* 1 ^een one evening at a. 4 — Ddme' T_i=_ **'*=,• the imingway. “A Gajd Cafe Mooeable Feast, p. 5 the ft "-■ce d. ker examples include Awr;w Gk; s: ^aris, 1926 (collection -I’.rr ~<t. ki . — ?27 (Pkillips Collection', and >-—f C««<e-25 (private collection! zgerald. Tender Is the S-aht r merican Printers' 'X-'rit 5« u Header, ^,^6Nove m^ 9^.^^ 6 Novend* r 1^* her works executed in. 930 (collection unknown Election unknown) itst, P-128 :TST, p- 191- ■TST. pT 1927. ;TST, p- 253-1’> edaux's »n e l" attested by D’ . chaU3v • B1UaU*SJdin Van «> ‘e^jo55’ >DB, E. P. r*tU^ ■ ,r. 35. Country Wedding, 1929 oil oh canvas, 36 x 29 in. 1 hit MaiUKigian Collection Photograph courtesy I he Maitoogian Collection �J ,I,.....C(tnl,li,l,I hose venturing I.. 1 larlenl'. i.mreasmglv popular jazz club, could discover scene, similar to recorded by Charles Domulh in At Manhalls, 191 / (Barnes liuundalion). 11. Alll><>ugl> it was published in the New York Her­ ald Tribune, ?A November 1926, as ICafe Madrid, Spain, I clly part of dlc I'1'0am not convinced that Spain is correct ned Cafe Madrid which There was a New York restaurant namv- opened in 1911-1912. In Gentlemen Prefer Blonde, Anita Loos also alludes to one in Paris: "so when we went to a place called the Madrid to tea and it really was devine" (p. 99). Pihie du Bois was more likely to have had contact with the Dales in New York and Paris. While the settings of several of kis restaurant scenes are specifically identified, more characteristically Ciuy Pene du Bois preferred to create generic types, as he did with people. Typical is Restaurant No. 1 and Restaurant No. 2, 1924 (Art Institute of Chicago), a diptych painted before he left for France. The first depicts a single man in evening dress, while the second shows two slinky women at a table, one with her face turned away from the viewer. This is the sort of scene treated with impassive humor in a 1925 car­ toon by Peter Arno published in The New Yorker, "Nightlife,” (The New Yorker 1 [24 October 1925]: 17) in which a series of tables of repetitively similar dour couples is pictured. Clad in elegant evening dress, they rigidly do not converse with each other and are attended by equally indif­ ferent waiters. 42. The Chester Dale collection included The Confi­ dence Man, 1919 (Brooklyn Museum), Pouter Pigeon, 1922 (collection unknown). Hallway Italian Restaurant, 1922 (National Uallery of Art), Restaurant 1 and Restaurant 2, 1924 (Art Institute of Chicago), Cafe du Dome, 1925-1926 (National Gallery of Art), and La Rue de la Santa, 1928 (National Gallery of Art). 43. ASTST, P. 251. 46. Although the word flapper received its fullest definition in Fitzgerald s novels of the 1920s, she had been identified by H. L. Menck en as existing by 1910. See H. L. Mencken, “American Slang,” in The American Language (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1931): 373; and The Ameri­ can Language, Supplement I (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1945): 514—515. See also May, The End ofAmerican Inno­ cence, pp. 339—340. In a Fitzgerald story, ' The Offshore Pirate, a male protagonist has another character swear “oxi your honor as a flapper," in Flappers and Philosophers f p. 23. 45. Stevenson, Babbitts and Bohemians, p. 139. 46. "Flapping Not Repented Of,” New York Times, 16 July 1922, reprinted in Mowry, The Twenties, p. 174. 47. William Henry Lkafe, The American U’brrtun, p. 49. See also "Women Smokers," A'cw York Times, 19 Feb- rujry 1920, reprinted in Mowry. 7Xc Tu-eni . ,. PP- 178-179. 48. Thi.- image is echoed by the sprightly the prints of Martin Lewis, as for example, Dan« 1930. The brisk urban chic of hi? f cure? - ., erful ,lr J the move. Another view is given in Kenneth Him Miller's Shopper, 1928 (Whitney Museum of America:. \rij. Xlthough she wears the skinny low-wasted a-, younger contemporaries, her matron!,, fi.-are re.._5;. is too old for their kinds of activities. 49. The women depicted by Pane du B.’ia may veer the skinny form-fitting dress of the peri U, a, Oprm 1926 (Whitney Museum of American Art), hut his ammoesque female scarcely suggest, flappery. Hi? u"-mcn urA Cigarette, 1929 (Whitney Museum of American Art) aUc pictures two strong, looming female figure-. Their miie companions are not visible, and the bulging forekuid ut the woman firmly holding her cigarette makes the ensemUe highly disturbing. Ironically, while women wearing the latest fashions (albeit in larger sizes than the ideal) appear regu­ larly in his paintings, only one of kis canvases specifically names the type who was the model in a title—5 tapper, 1922 (Greensboro, University of North Carolina Xeatkerspoon Gallery). His single figure is decidedly inelegant, more a school girl on her way to the library than someone about to go to a cafe. 50. Zelda t?ayre Fitzgerald, “Eulogy on the Flapper." published in Metropolitan Magazine, June 1922, quoted in Nancy Milford, Zelda. A Biography (New Tore: Harper C* Row, 1970): 91. 51. Bruce Bliven, "Flapper Jane. in L;.* A.-i. Rejr-rlic (9 September 1925), quoted in Stevenson. Bohemians, p. 141. J n;5/2' Bobs Her Hair," in fbpprr tnd ai Philosophers, p. Ho. 53. Ibid., p. 120. 54. ASTST. p. 132. 55. GPDB. “Reflections ci Men and .Art." Arts ana Decoration 13 (25 June 1020'.: $2. 56. Ibid. . 5?. i he figures are similar to hi.. "Mari.’ c.’;? i-. Metropolitan Opera." published in li,,-'::. H - in December 58. These works echo earlier composih.-ns .Vc«:' Monster, IQ 14 (Metropolitan Museum of Ari! an J and Brunette. 1915 (W'hitoes Museum ot a later work. Mr. \>s .M-.;.)'IJ35 unknown), he continues Lis interest in tvpe<. 5Q. .1S7SZ’ P. 254. 00. ASTST P. 255. 01 ASTS," p. 25o. Vo. L <5 �I"8-"-,. lrr°CannianArt)^° n' .] 't eari°fl the lalert “P^rregu ‘ epecifiejjy ^—--F’appcr, >■egant, ^^ pocr mcre a onieone about to e on the Flapper" 1922, quoted in fork: Harper & n Flic New Repubon, Babbitts and Hair, in Flappers d Art,” Arts and larionettes at the -j-r in Decibar sitions, irt] and B’^ , American b&- 10 J5 (collection 2, George Moore with Seated Woman (Former title: George Moore and Sarah Bernhardt), 1920 oil on canvaJ, 19 X 25*/i in. Smith College M useum of Art, Nortllampton, Massachusetts Photograph by Peter A. Juicy & Son �£ Note: Boll, my Comoran catalogue and my dissertation contain extensive bibliographies; and, except for a few basic sources, publications listed hero are intended to expand these listings, as well as to include some useful historical sources on the period treated in my essay The artist’s papers arc in the Flanner, Janet. Pans Was Yesterday, 1Q25—1Q3Q. New York: Viking, 1972. Goldstein, Ben. “Daumier's Spirit in American Art," Print Review 11 (1980): 127-144. Hansen, Arlen J. Expatriate Paris: A Cultural and Literary Guide to Paris oftkc 1920s. New York: Arcade PubliskArchives ofAmerican Art. Allen, Frederick Lewis. Only Yesterday: An Informal History ing, 1990. Hemingway, Ernest. A Moveable Feast. New York: Ckarl of the lQ20s. New York: Harper and Brothers, 1931. American Heritage History of the 20’s and 30’s. New York: Hills, Patricia, and Roberta K. Tarbell. The Figurative Tradi­ American Heritage Publishing Company, 1970. Beard, Rick, and Leslie Cohen Berlowitz, eds. Greenwich Village: Culture and Counterculture. New Brunswick, N.J.: Rutgers University Press (for the Museum of the City of New York), 1993. Berman, Avis. Rebels on Eighth Street: Juliana Force and the Whitney Museum of American Ari. New York: Atheneum, 1990. Brooks, Van Wyck. Days of tkc Phoenix: The Nineteen- Twcntics I Remember. New York: E. P. Dutton, 1957. Cashman, Sean Dennis. Prohibition: Tkc Lie of the Land. New York: The Free Press, 1981. Chafe, William Henry. The American Woman: Her Changing Social, Economic, and Political Roles, 1920—1930. London: Oxford University Press, 1975. Clair, Jean, ed. The 1920s: Age of the Metropolis. Montreal: trangement: Women and Men, 1912—1924,” M.A. thesis, Madison: University of Wisconsin, 1984. Douglas, Ann. Terrible Honesty: Mongrel Manhattan in the 1920s. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1995. Erenberg, Lewis A. Steppin' Out: New York Nightlife and tkc Transformation of American Culture, 1890—1930. Westport, Connecticut: Greenwood Press, 1981. Fahlman, Betsy. Guy Pene du Bois: Artist About Town. exhibition catalogue. Washington, D.C.: Corcoran Gallery of Art, 1980. York: Whitney M useum of American Art, 1980. Lieberman, William S., ed. Art of the Twenties. New York: Museum of Modern Art, 19/9. Loos, Anita. Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. New York: Boni and Liveright, 1925. May, Henry F. The End of American Innocence: A Study of the First Years of Our Own time, 1012—1017. London: Jonathan Cape, I960. Morris, Lloyd. Incredible New York; High Life and Low Life of the Last Hundred Yars. New York: Random House, 1951. See especially “Some Liked Ii Hot," pp. 317-337. Morton, Brian. Americans in Paris: An Anecdotal Street Guide. Ann Arbor, Michigan: The Olivia and Hill Press, 1984. Mowry, George E., ed. The Twenties: Fords, Flappers and Nash, Roderick. The Nervous Generation: American Thought, 1917-1Q30. Chicago: Rand McNally, 1970. Pene du Bois, Guy. Artists Say the Silliest Things. New- York: American Artists Group, 1940. Perrett, Geoffrey. America in the Twenties: A History. Neu- York: Simon and Schuster, 1982. Sinclair, Andrew. Prohibition: Ike Era of Exccess. Boston: Little Brown, 1962. Smith, Page. Redeeming the Time: A People's History of the 1 Q20s and the New Deal. N ew York: Penguin Books, 1987, volume 8. ------------ . “Guy Pene du Bois (1884-1958)," Ph.D. disserta­ tion, University of Delaware, 1981. Stevenson, Elizabeth. Babbitts and Bohemians: The Ameri- can 1920s. New York: MacMillan, 19o7. ------------. “Guy Pdne du Bois; Painter and Critic." Art and Antiques 3 (November-December 1980): 106-113. Fitzgerald, F. Scott. Flappers and Philosophers. New York: New Charies Scribner’s Sons, 1948 [1920], ------------ .Six Tales of the Jazz Age and Other Stories. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, I960 [1922-1924] -------- —. Tender Is the Night. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, I960 [1934], York: Ckarles Scribner’s Sons, I960 [1920]. Flam, Jack. “Guy Pdne du Bois, ’’ American Heritage Sullivan, Mark. Our Times: The United States, 1900-1Q23. VI. The Twenties. New Tork: Char!es Scribner’s Sous, 1935. Todd, Ellen Wiley. Tkc “New tyoman'' Reused. Painting and Gender Politics on Fourteenth Street. Berkeley: 1 niver- sity of California press, 1993. Turner, Elizabeth Hutton. Amerfcan Artiste in Faris 1010- 1020. Ann Arbor, Michigan: UM I Research Press IJ88 Xlatson, Steven. Strange BedfcFows: The First American Avant-Garde. New \ork: Abbeville, 1991. (Fehru- cry 1989): 72-82. tion and tkc Whitney Museum of American Art. Neu* Fanatics. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1963. Montreal Museum of Fine Arts, 1991. Doherty, Charles E. “Guy Pdne du Bois* Paintings of Es­ 7' ni^3afParaJiS,:’ Scribner's Sons, 1964. \oung, Mahouri >harp. “American Realists of the 1930>. ApJb 113 (March 1981): 146-189. �j93q U. in ■“ L;rci- c Pcat. N, lartelj Urn °/A, of the 979. Mondes. "'can Innocence- . 1912-ig^. • London; Lied It Hot,-pp. 317_337 nS ’ An Anecdotal Street in: The Olivia and Hill itics: Fords, Flappers and , NJ.: Prentice-Hall, 1963. zncration: American Thought, d McNally, 1970. the Silliest Tilings. New =>up, 1940. Twenties: A History. New 1982. excess. Boston: ic Era of El e: A P^plc 7 History of the ;w York: Penguin Book, nd Bohemians: The Ameri- .Charles Scribner.^- jed: Pa’ni,n9 nan"■ Rovis. anJ Jb=W->"u"ot i Str^- - >3. m—i UMI R^earcJ Jiu..*930- ;an Reali^ ° [46-1®9’ 1988- 30. After the Circus, 1928 watercolor and ink on paper, 13’A x 1744 in. Helena Gunnarsson Collection Photograph hy Dean Beasoni �dp 1. Billboa rd, 1920 oil on panel, 25 x 20 in. NorFolk Southern Corporation, Norfolk, Virginia Photograph courtesy of Norfolk Southern Corporation J1 �Jr 3. An American Oriental, 1921 oil on canvas, 2O‘/16x25‘/8m. Art,,---------Los Angeles Los Angeles County Museum cof ------a Mr. anti Mrs. William Preston Harrison Collects ion of Art Photograph © 1995, Museum Associates, Los Angeles County Museum �/ i 5 i 27. Peasants Returning, 1927 ™ ™ eanva,, 25'/. x 36 in Ali Mo^huder, M.D., Colleelion �28. Pets, 1927 oil on canvas, 217/a x 185/p in. Museum of Ari, Fort Lauderdale, Florida Ira Glack cijb Bequest Plioto^raph courtvsy Muyuuni of Art ��5. In the Wings, 1921 oil on panel, 191/’ x 14% in. Allen Memorial Art M useum, Oberlin College, Ohio ( lift of Mru. Malcolm L. McBride, 1948 Photog raph <'■> Allen Memorial Art Museum ��b. Chanticleer, 1922 oil on canvas, 241/’ x 32 in. San Diego Museum of Art I-’urchasrJ with funds from Helen M. Towle Bequest Photograph courtesy San Diego Museum of Art �7. The Coachman, 1922 charcoal, ink, watercolor on paper, 15% x 13% in. I iclena Gunnanason Collection Photograph hy I lcl^a Photo Studio, courtesy Hirchl 6* Adler U allenes, Inc. I �8. Disarmament Conference/Peace Conference, 1922 oil on canvas, 20 x 2L> in. .Marjorie and Charles Benton ( ’olio linn Photograph by Mi>di;i(.l Irapcd, courtesy C arolyn Klein Ad Consultants �9. The Life Soldier (Former itie Wooden Soldier), 1922 oil on panel, 25 x 20 in. BowJoin College Museum of Ari Gift of Walter K. 1 autxnan, ’24 Photograph by Arthur Evans, courtesy Bmvdoin College Museum �10. • .h<ai ‘I !ini.1923 -.J •> j < i-iv.is, 20 / 1414 in. ' .rh' ..'j! Mwmii i.(American Art, Smitlwonian hwlitution Gift f/( .■•mi R'.ly I oimtLilimi I'I ">h ./r-ipL court, .y Naliomil Mu.ijt iuii «»l American Ari �1 3. Isabel Riskop, 1924 oil mi can van, 48 x 36 in. Arthur J. mill Ihlilh S. Levin PruintNiil Gill In the Nation.il Muuseuin of Aiuerivau Art. ■ initli loni.in hr hlulion �a ?r• J 4, RailnniJ Compurimant, 1925 .. I nn pan- I, k IM in. J hula I h lil> iJh-jP I 'apl.hi H ■>ph ' "lull »y I .hula I-i* lih ul" •».! kupl.in �I G (>nl Iiuhj I Lir Sk | ...I 'I 16 13 . All '• • ' ' . .1 A... .<• Ill \>! I'hilltp \ L -■*' i J. /.J. ‘ i • ' .> v i.Jl. i I \u. ., o, ; ���'-Wl^- .vcnp— 21 . J r . r <’>n>r. -■; A -jm-xr _-. er -.3 ■ 52 PF-„x»»r- »” '__ •-• '- ’- •*»■ <" �J L * ' V'j • 'll ( II . . Hit I 11 u I ' I X .X H ‘ 11 ‘ II. Mu . I..II ..I•• m \l .1.: I II- H U« m III rl. . .. <( I. »’ •!» • \ b* i ' i' ■ K X ' V > X �23, Girl at Montparnasse, 1927 watercolor and ink on paper, 15 x LVZi in. Richard and Carol Levin Photograph by Helga Photo Studio, courtesy I lirschl & Adler Galleries, Inc. ��26. The Opera Singer, 1927 oil on canvas, 13!Z? x 10 in. Kraushaar Galleries Photograph courtesy Kraushaar Galleries �I 1 *'3 31. MatJier and Datignter, 1M28 oil on canvas, 2P» x 18 in. \vkitney Museum of American Art purchase Ptiotograpk courtesy kitney M-jl �I 33. Avenue Je la Victoire, Nice, 1929 watercolor and graphite on paper, 13^ x 1014 in. Austin P Kelley Collecti on Photograph hy Professional Photographic Services �------- ] I faille ’ T*,' tW k-rm f, ■ " ■''' ir ' "' 1 kite* k» ...... .............. ‘ “■’ ■ ■ r;:„;......... ..... yu’lr,w ».vl r. .-■>»■ «•« j.Und. 1 '>.ipk, .1- Xmcrxan irbrt*. « vh ’irt <k»Pit! iu.pr.4ifi-. .jlput I '•'..anti »rt k»>.t>rMn». »n,h tke rk • Beu, l*Mnun h«vr n-iumi. H t cntwJwntmg. -• .^1-, ;r,|^bn-.r „ ’ ,n < •• Jn,,'!*’ »-k >J’"'1 h,. J . * i 37. The Art Opening, n.d. 13 in. r- • " »*w, L± T*1 - 5 *«l47 k'** 4»i *° ”'4. charcoal and watercolor on paper, 15 Helena Guiinare^on Collection Photograph by Dean Bea-om - i . **K �s The Artist as Critic Stanley I Grand When Henry Pene du Bois died on skipboard enroute home from France in May 1906, kis twenty-two-year-old son Guy, with whom ke kad been traveling, suddenly found himself in need of a job. After his arrival in New York, the young artist obtained a position—largely through family connections—as a reporter with the daily New York American, where his fatker had worked as a critic. Over the next half-century, in addition to painting and teacking. Guy Pene du Bois wrote hundreds of articles and reviews, several mono­ graphs on American artists, and a charming autobiography entitled .Artists Say the Silliest Things} Yet despite his prolific output, most subsequent critics and art historians, with the notable excep­ tion of Betsy Fahlman, have minimized or igno red Pe ne du Bois’ critical writings. This oversight is unfortunate and unde­ served, especially since his essays are delightfully readable. He brought to his subjects both a mor­ dant nit and a sophisticated, at times jaded, sensi­ bility. Frequently—assuming the guise of the amoral flaneur watching the passing parade from a point somewhat above street level—ke com­ mented dryly on the foibles of his contemporaries. His panoramic view of the aesthetic landscape included observations on clothing, billboards, critics. [They give] none of the many doubtful students a ground to stand on. They stand on none themselves. They say they are broadminded quite as though this all inclusive breadth of view were of value to the world.”3 This essay considers a number of themes that inform Guy Pene du Bois criticism written between 1912 and 1924.4 Not only do these essays most closely relate to the paintings in­ cluded in “Guy Pene du Bois: The Twenties at Home and .Abroad and thereby provide a further hey to understanding„ th<le exhibition, but they also were written during the time when he enjoyed his greatest success, influence, and importance as a critic. As the recently appointed editor of Arts and Decoration, ke kad kelped prepare tke public to understand the famous Armory Show, which opened at the 69th Nation al G uard Regiment Armory on Lexington Avenue in February 1913, ky dedicating tke Marek issue to tke exkibition. His own contribution in tkat issue, entitled "The Spirit and the Chronology of the Modem Move­ ment," explained that the seemingly radical Cezanne, “the great man of the great modem movement ... is essentially a classicist; that is, like Ingres, he demands last of all, order, measure, the harmonious scheme that is essential. 5 In “The Spirit and the Chronology of the Modern Movement," Pene du Bois articulated cosmetics, and health, in addition to the fine arts.* Nonetheless, despite his ironic perch, he maintained a great fondness for people as they are. Indeed, he was an articulate advocate for the individual in an era that was becoming increas­ ingly depersonalized and dehumanized. As a critic two philosophical tenets that would characterize his writings for the next dozen years. The first, that art must be based on life, reflects the influ­ ence of Robert Henri, with whom he had studied he expressed a clear set of values; he distrusted and dismissed equivocation: “Chameleons are not at the New York School of Art. Prior to Henn s appointment in 1902, tke students kad been �f d h n4 S‘SaU” pki!°S°Pky as inter„ Ph SCh°° S pnn?Pal “^Ctor William Merritt Chase. Henri on the other hand, taught 1 art for Me s sake. Almost forty years later, Pene du Bois described Henri’s revolutionary impact on the students: He “completely overturned the apple cart: displaced art by life, discarded technic, broke the prevailing gods as easily as brittle porce­ lain. The talk was uncompromising, the approach unsubtle, the result pandemonium.”6 On his first day as the instructor in the life class, Henri ap­ figure for he s honesty of tin , ......... along with his good ">■* Tru °?t kis w*h life: "The terrible tkirfg M X the tepid thing that is the medio^tL Jn life, is -king. ”15 Jn sum art must ke alive, regulated by the and honest. y ne intellect, Pene contravened the laws of nature with spatial dislo­ cations, acid colors, distorted anatomical propor­ tions, and an ironic, frequently erotic, sensibility. Mannerism, in sum, was an art based on art The extreme aestheticism of Mannerism eventually provoked a backlash. In the late sixteenth century, Academies dedicated to restoring the ideal art of Raphael were established. Simultaneously, around 1600, in a parallel reaction to the excesses of Ute Mannerism, Caravaggio created a new realistic style that substituted truth to nature for deco­ rum: since peasants had dirty feet and fingernails, let them appear thus in paintings. During the following centuries the cycles of art oscillated. In the nineteenth century, for example, the Realism of Courbet was followed by the aestheticism of I Bois distinguished te art- s "71“4r i-“;- proached one hapless student and, after consider­ ing his work, asked in a voice audible to all: "Was ien [he] a man or not, and by inference were we, that we could draw' or paint this woman in all her glo­ rious nudity as though she were a plaster cast, a thing less alive than a cabbage? Life certainly did that day stride into a life class.”7 In 1913 Pene du Bois clarified the distinc­ tion between art and life when he wrote: “Art conservative Irke Ingres, the first potent modern despot, or radical like "Manet or Renoir, the realists, followed the laws of nature in preference to those of art.”17 Ingres’ accomplishment, for example, consisted of his ability “to regulate his as worthless as a body when there is no life in it. subject absolutely without denuding it of all artis­ tic or rather aesthetic virtue. He made the classic formula his own, made it do his bidding, turned Painting when there is nothing hut life in it, when and twisted and moulded it.”18 Cezanne, on the it is without regulation, is not art."8 In his view "Art is not exactly life—it is greater than life. Life other hand, "who was a genius, evolved a new theory of painting by keeping away from the com- is barbaric, impulsive, unrestrained. . . . Art is the pany of painters."19 The insistence that art follow the laws of when there is no life in it is just as dead and just restraint constructing order out of chaos. 9 For Pene du Bois, art transcended style or the means of expression. Consequently he could praise the Classicist Ingres, the Romantic Delacroix, and the Realist Courbet because all three were “incontrovertahly H connected with life. Their art epitomized life's particular phrases [sic]. Each started with nature; each was a gardener: Life is the root, the plant; art the gardener.”11 Their ky-ferences were merely in how they chose to train ■heir plants: Ingres chose order, Delacroix exulted in the sensuous. Metaphorically speaking, Courbet combined Ingres' formal garden with Delacroix's English garden to produce a synthesis M -W Since Pene du Bois believed that art "regulation,” he had no use for unbodied . 1^: "Art requires the services of the mind 6i much as it requires the services of the . /. r - \,,r did he have any sympathy lor dis .-jVrei. hot one bind of bad ..rt .nd ... ,„,.rt."»’lo ibis point he had.„- TL.. I Whistler. The second philosophical tenet, then, was a cyclic view of art, which Pene du Bois shared with Heinrich Wolfflin (1864-1945), the German art historian and theoretician, who had described the progression of artistic stages from archaic to clas­ sic to baroque;21 In a similar vein, Pene du Bois nature” reflects an ongoing discourse in Western art. The art of the Medieval era was conceptual, an art of signs, signifies and formulas. As a human­ istic world view supplanted the theocentnc, a per­ ceptual art based on the study of nature gradually came to replace the earlier art. In Italy, beginning with Giotto, artists slowly abandoned the Byza tine conventions in preference for a more natural­ istic mode. During the quattrocento, Italian artists, influenced by their g-wing ^trng of—nd fa.cin.lion “XL the ideal in nature, tha w IC Northern accidents of .p=si& ™»,(““J ,„dsd te- Eu.ope.n artists, » ward unado rned verism- By t e ear Y century, d» ‘I-*- iJ'J'T .l which High Renaissance art o« P t imp„v. on not merely to af »*J a„ jde. ••• One consequence of e P |f.„(e,enliJ. >» that art became i.-»^ „1. the courtly, arisloerat.0, m a.d ; r, mc Mvers: "He is Diogenes with '. I known as Mannerism, I i wrote: "The cycl es of art are like the cycles of life. They are Lorn, reach maturity and then . . . begin the downward slide to death ... at the base of whick there is inevitably a new life begun, a re­ naissance.”21 In "Despotism and Anarchy in Art” (1915) he described the succession of art move­ ments as a cyclic process in which "Anarchy suc­ ceeds despotism and despotism succeeds anarchy.”22 According to Pene du Bois, both the "Anarchistic and despotic parties of art realize equally that it is art’s traditions that is hw b twyi-r ; 5 , . J. ture and destroy ' the —- worn-out formula* whxk tix> complacently we have made _.r . The year before, and n. t hv : ... Pene du Bois had identified aestheticism as one of the most pernicious formal ,s. Cei.mmr c < officially recognized American” painiit . : . a number of Gennan graphic art; J.-. iK i ... J , academic work of lit? countrymen rtbv i r its "timidity, craven fear, [and] abs Jute unwittingness to ‘take a chance.' an art, in urn. d-. ,nnnated by a total fear of error.' l ive . ■,■.<>>_ f "the spirit predominating them all [the Ameri­ cans] may he traced back to the time when Will­ iam M. t..liase, perhaps inspired by epigrams mad* in a light left-handed' way by Whistler, began the promulgation of the theory of 'Art for Art's Sake. ■ In another article, also written in 1914. Pene du Bois observed that "1 he art that sur­ rounded him [Jerome Myers] when lie began to produce pictures some twenty years ago owed its thesis to an idealism that, with no basic founda­ tion in fact or in nature, had become superficial and puerile. . . . Beauty then was a matter to be secured and stamped on canvas not by the study of nature but by strict adherence to the rule book of proportions and of values.”'4’ Eleven years later, his position remained unchanged: "the art atti­ tude . . . became a pair of artificially colored glasses between himself [Whistler] and the thing seen, a device defeating fresh vision or any empiric<:al deduction." impossible to obviate a tendency that man holds Pene du Bois' disdain of formulas and his cyclic view of art colored his subsequent attitudes in common with sheep. 23 Consequently both parties offer formulas; the former (classicism) lays own rules, while the latter (expressionism/subjectivism) offers individual freedom: "Artists of the despotic state claim that art is beauty and beauty toward modernism. Shortly after the Armory Shhow closed, he and eight other artists resigned from the Society of American Painters and Sculptors, Inc., which had organized the exhibi­ a act, tangible and positive. The anarchists see in art the search for self, for the particular vision of turned the society into a Cubist, a Futurist, a Post-Impressionist organization as radical and the individual and deny positivism,”24 Not unexpectedly, as a consequence of his narrow in its aims as the National Academy of ,n erydfS themes, Pene du Bois had a great istrust for “formulas" whether old or new. Writtb 1 “TL. 6 mc”v Show he expressed the hope . fbis international exhibition should . . international exhibition ■naulate our creative power, power, show show the way to d0m' t0 in^Pendence, throw off the veil of throw o] tion, because "confirmed extremists . . . nave Desig n is radical and narrow in its aims. 311 As one who saw art movements swinging Like a pen­ dulum between birth and death, rise and fail, youth and age; he consistently advised artists to avoid extremes, to shun the poles of the cycle. Like Horace, he sought the Golden Mean, the middle way, that is the mid-point of the arc. �i.uiia’lv. as we have seen, Pene du Bois ap:• ‘?u.'..‘J the new art. He appreciated the courage its practitioners who threw off the constraints ct iired formulas. I rd ike in America, "In the rest or the world, in Germany, France, Scandinavia, neo-and post-impressionists, expressionists, cub­ ists futurists, a host of extremists, are running the whole gamut of freedom and, as is the case in art. not seldom to their own destruction. They fail often, but from excess of trying.”31 The prob­ lem was, as he lamented in 1918, that "the strong men make the formulas which the weak men fol­ low after them. There is no good to come of con­ scious art, this constant repetition of the rules of arrangement which, growing older, become more and mere abstract and more and more unfittable to the chances of life.”32 In Pene du Bois’ view, modernism had become simply another formulary. Critics have tended to see Pene du Bois' turn against modernism as reactionary', as representing a return to his realist roots, rather than as the mature criticism of an anti-authoritarian who saw modernism as a manifestation of the growing consolidation of power in the West and its dimi­ nution of the individual. Observing how Goya had suhverted the authority of absolute monarchs by means of satire and, in formal terms, by dis­ placing the king as the central figure, Pene du Bois argued that: “It was after Goya that Courbet began the humanist propaganda; that realism came to do away with reverence, and that reverence, in the old sense, was to become obsolete. 33 Courbet "retained, nevertheless, the idea of the importance of the individual. If he felt that all figures were worthy of an equal respect, he still could not consider them en masse—he was a hu­ manist. It remained for a later political age to consider man by the million, man in the aggre­ gate.”24 Although he frequently praised the Mas­ ter of Aix-en-Provence, he believed that he epito­ mized the modem, anti-humanist trend: "Cezanne . . . has always seemed to me to be a voice giving expression to the modilern desire (or organization, Indeed. I have never been able to separate his w ork from socialism, communism, trade unions and trusts.”" Modernism's emphasis on systems v.er people became its prime error: "cubists, post- imoressionists and so forth . . . have made anat .mica: c -ruction [ric] (that landmark of the Academies) in their canvases subservient to th organization of the whole, broken hones in o J, to perfect systems got rid entirely of the potency ot the individual, ot Goya s satire, of Courbet’s h maoism. A step further than Matisse is Pica«l whom we found, for a time, using abstract symbol carrying no suggestion of humanity, in order to portray the actions and reactions of forms, the' pull and push, give and take of forces, in which individual will is as of little consequence as a cork bobbing unconsciously on the surface of any lit­ eral sea."36 By adopting recipes and focusing on systems instead oh lite, the modernist fails as “he rants against institutions, against old gods and ghosts. He is not an artist exactly—he is an iconoclast. The freedom he vaunts about? That is his prison."37 The prison.' distinction between the artist and the iconoclast is one that Pene du Bois reframed and returned to throughout this period, gradually coming to the conclusion that “the man of action is rarely a man of vision. Artist really means a man of vi­ sion. It must be unquestionable that he will cloud his vision in the dust of combat.”33 In another article, also written in the 1920s, he counseled: “The artist must not forget that he is an observer, a man watching the parade from a safe though convenient distance and armed, in any case, with enough strength of character to be kept physically out of it.”39 In sum: “The artist as a seer should be beyond such stupid adherence to dogma. He must be beyond or beside the contemporary phi­ losophy. He must be a spectator. 411 Since art is derived from, and based upon, life, it follows that the artist must change to re­ flect his life experience. Pene du Bois ridiculed the painter who clings to his youthful, virgina vision: He “does not move in his tracks, no blots mar his original purity, no new huskiness is a e the rosy pink to his original soprano, no scars on ire and life is there. of the first flesh. Art is heic ---------He was especially harsh on the members o mei Eight:42 “With two or three exceptions [they] were republicans, singing the song of the plain man and his family...We were a real republic: every man as good as his neighbor. 43 Or at e3st. s° i went the myth. In reality, Pene du Bois believed that “Courbet may already have emptied the bottle when our republicans began their admira- tion society' 44 and he questioned whether “the iism which reflected that time was republican realii not already . . . a kind of reminiscence of something which was good whde we had it but which ”43 He reserved his harshest now, ___ alas,_ was gone. criticism, however, for his former instructor Rob­ ert Henri, “the high priest of these republican Americans,”40 who "having lost the revolutionary radicalism of his youth, the early discontent . . . has settled comfortably upon the optimism of bhintmiddL.-.L,,, Pollyanna. 47 Pene du Bois' ultimate rejection of The Eight had nothing to do with their "Ash Can” subject matter or political views. In 1920, for example, he minimized the importance of subject matter altogether: "Art is, after all, a matter of expression. The subject matter in art is inciden­ tal."48 Two years later he would add, in a state­ ment that anticipates the formalism of Clement Greenberg, " The literary or the descriptive end of a picture is padding in so far as the art or the aesthetic quality is concerned.'4J Given his belief that art was more than aesthetics, Pene du Bois could never become a pure formalist. Consequently, he rejected the arguments of those who proscribed politics from art: But th ere is no logic at all in the theory or dogma that artists must not ‘prosti­ tute’ their art al the feet of political interest."3'1 Con­ tinuing he noted “Art has always occupied itself with life in one way or another. It has always, as Taine has thoroughly well shown, summed up the prevailing tide, given the synthesis of the thought of a par­ ticular generation of mankind, even expressed the ' J,. aktr ' words, the artist starts with nature. lk, faJt j unconscious thought of a generation."5; The problem with The Eight was that their paintings no longer, if they ever did, represent their times. This conclusion represents his ultimate re- leC?i°n Robert Henri s philosophy: "One of my o professors once said, and is probably still saymg to male disciples, that the way to being an artist is through manhood, or in order to become an artist you must first he a man. ... But it is only by inference that one arrives at his definition o man. • • . In America he became something of a sjyas uckler, a loud talking hearty- sort of faker ordinarily designated, and with an efL,v t praise, effort of as a rough diamond.”52 But America had now come of age: Perhaps America, like New York, is beginning to tire of the simple statements of the , mtellectua long way lr. i:. th. J ........... th? •JctarL piwith th . . .. ' I' ' h lork Realist; tb,< |L , later on, dsa writer.’2 In ar . FF i ,;'u ■ • 1bmldmg V as pkd.isophy 1?'” 7 ^ tkerinout of th. cm ’■ > J ’h bv those who approach the problem from the oppo­ se dmvliom ’ Ike critic in doubt or wanting the laculty probably imaginative, required in any fecund researvli, can always go to his subject armed‘with a theory, like a tailor with his tape measure. Freud's system probably will do for this poor chap as well as any other. 1 lowever, the man who can arrive al tree deductions from encountered facts will go lurthcr. Anya priori theory is misleading. We find that which we seek."5*' Pene du Bois s "free deductions" assumed an increasingly aristocratic cast as time progressed. Contrasting his dual personas, he observed “The writer is an aristocrat . . , the painter is a plain man. " I le came to detest the herds, the follow­ ers, the sheep. No friend of democracy, he ob­ served that “A republican state ruled by the will of the majority is ruled by the mediocrity." ■' N or was he sympathetic toward the precious, effete or contrived: Exotics are febrile sensitives who, with the taut nerves of invalids and eyes jaded by the commonplace, seek relief and amusement outside the familiar world. Perhaps they are men suffering spiritual and physical nostalgic. Intense, they are of no physical health, of no physical stature, fidgety people, bored, sophisticated and extravagant."'' Neither decadent nor virginal, republican nor intellectual, Guy Pene du Bois was a constant voice for honesty in art: "bad pictures are reflec­ tions of men every kit as muck as are the good pictures. Hypocritical or sanctimonious pictures are records of the men who created them. ' Be­ cause he accepted the heroic quality of modem life, he faulted those who turned away from life, His description of Toulouse-Lautrec could also be a portrait of Guy Pene du Bois, the artist as critic: “He would be impossible in the America ot �;.1J h’-ls* darlings who are as innocent or more innocent than 7 hackeray's Amelia, or Ficldiug’s for that matter. The artist and the man in this instance, as with Daumier and Forain, keep pace and are inseparable. The artist is not busy denying himself and life. His esthetics far from willfiJ are unavoidable. His morals? He has none. He is neither preacher nor modifier. Fie does not draw for children. He may he a critic. But behind his cruelty and malice there lurks a great fondness for life as it is, never a blinding sun to him, never a thing which one fa< faces from behind glasses darkened hy religion or nn morals orals in m order that its vitality will he dulled, along with its profundity and beauty."61 Looking back from an era when much writ­ ing about art appears arcane, convoluted and programmatic, Guy Pene du Bois' criticism seems clear, well written and honest. He still has much to teach us and deserves a reevaluation. 38. Guy Pene du Bois, “Art By the V r. ” < ' 48 G« tional Studio (July 1922): 340. 39. Guy Pene du Bois, “Guy Pe ne Ju E -••• ‘ rn‘.--»- j. tional Studio (June 1922): 245. 40. Pene du Bois, “Art by the Wav “ I - t ■, Studio July 1922): 340. 50 Pan 41. Guy Pene Ju Bois, “Art by the Xtuy ” In'.-? - a 51 lb. 1. I|.ppvb’U V i 'T--f 14.” a 1 tench h’ -’? in ji ■ j hl 42. The Eight, consisting of Robert Henri, L hrh-a.i William Glackens, Everett Shinn. Gc.-rge LuL-r Arthur B. 5?.. Ptfne Ju Him*, Davies, Ernest Lawsen, .mJ Maurice Brazil PniiJcr,: iteJ together in 1908 at the Macbeth Gallcric*. K’tud’o (Man.lt 1923); 549 1. For a comprehensive bibliography of Guy Pene uis’s see Betsy Lee Fahlman, “Guy Pene du Ju Bois’s writings Painter, Critic, Teacher,” Ph.D. dissertation, University Bois: of Delaware, 1981, pp. 228-251. This essay owes a great debt Art: The Symbolism Dedicated to the Future and the Real­ ism of the Present," Arts and Decoration (January 1915): U.S 2. See, for exampie, Guy Pine du Bois, “Refl ec­ tions of Men and Art," Arts and Decoration (June 25, 1920): 81-82, 118, and “The Barbaric Rouge Pot and Civilization," Arts and Decoration (August 1920): 149. 3. Guy Pine du Bois, “Art in America: A Rambling 18. ibid. Kunst [Classic Art j (1899), and Kunstgcschichthchc Grun 1 21. Pene du Bois, “ Fhe Spirit and the ClimnoL / 152. 22. Pene du Bois, "Dcspoti:is in an J Anarchy, p 97 American, between 1906 and 1912; (2) bis contributions to Hals, Goya, Manet . . . Renoir and George B. Luks r. Arts and Decoration from 1912 to 1921; (3) his monthly sent anarchy in art. In the other party are Durer, Rap! Le Brun, Ingres . . . Matisse, Arthur B. Davies, and 1924; and (4) his beelance writings from 1930 hiatus between 1924 and 1930 coincides with his stay in Key non Cox." 25. Pdne du Bois, “1 he Spirit and the Ch ronol France, which was terminated abruptly by ike stock market P- man Graphic Art: The Striking Difference between the 27. Ibid., p. 123. 28. Pene du Bois, “Jerome Myers," p. 90. 29. Guy Pfcne du Bois, “Art By the Wiy," Intema- The Spirit and the Chronology," 9. Ibid. 10. ibid., p. 153. 31. Pene du Bois, “Bold Freedom, 12. Pene du Bois, “Art in America, p. 107. 32. Guy Pene du Bois, “Official American Paint­ and Decoration (February 1916): 168. 14. Guy Pene du Bois, “Jerome Myers,” Art and Progress (January 1914): 92. 15. Pene du Bois, “Art in America,” p. 108. 16. Guy Pene du Bois, “Art By the Way: The Pass­ ing of Republican Painting," International Studio (Septem­ ber 1922): 534. 17. Guy P&ne du Bois, “Despotisi >m and Anarchy in p. 125. p- 81- In* Interna­ id Art,” pp36. Pene du Bois, “Reflections of Men ant Man: The Best Eyes in American Art,” Arts and Decoration Deli. •••. l\I" L'" - p 246. .ng J h. Pa 536. ' r,i l-unl- .• ,• ■ < r 1'' -iTtr! r, " Internal< ty . < 5 *)-53/ :>*;;]■ Intc'rr ih.-n ;■ t'’. r• , j u|p- (July 1914)- 154-355 "An Exj-r< ph n of JnJ. .• •bj ih’ty. The Gallatin ollrtlirin of (>r »pL* ■ Ari Aris and D-coral’m (IcL- inker Irtcmj* n i’ .ytudio -Hiker I ureij’n and Ancru an Pnnliiit • 11," li?'-, i;. tional ? b ,w at tb»: ( iric /rf/.-T.j* . r.j' oia ;. j (March r in.: pi‘r J urg), “ Aria and Decoration (May 25, I9/'O. 9. Y1, 44. 19231:547 549 . "Guy Pcti' du Bn; . Intemotior.s!ritudio (Juiia “Art hy thiAXay /riL-rrdf..-?’.z!^d>a (Miy 1923): 179 181. 1922): 242 24/) -----------“Jerome My< Internal:.'.na' Studia (July 1923): 349-352 ----- rah.-r. ruary 1916) 168 17 i Art ky the \X jy —------- “Art by the A n (Jmiwry 1915; 95 'i-; j |.J L<l»jl.«ti(iii« at the < .Jh rit t',r ’ ' -J‘i llnji , Aris ,md Ik \ . ». h?r, 181 ------- -— ‘Art by (hr ‘Aa- I t< > »l. • I uhm- -hi 1 lb»- h‘£Ji ,,, ArUandH i>r,ihL>n la -. "Art in America: A Pdink'iug i..J Informal '/iew. * -------- —. A^irsts Say tnc Sd!ie&t Things. New York: Ameri­ can Artists Group, 1940. ------------ . “The Barbaric Rouge Pot and Civilizab on. A.ris ------------ - “The Bold Freedo m of German Graphic A.rt: The striking Difference between the Present Tenden-.es of German and American Art." Arts and D&:oratian ‘r'erruaiy 1913): 123-126, 138. Guy Pene du Bois, “William Glackens, Normal (September 1914): 404. *1 -. -1 • f>0. Fvtu- Ju Boi . Art A h: Vir’i 3. 3. ’ p p 108 1U.H hl. Pane Ju Bi : -. "Art by the Wr; Internal Kindi SudwCOcb.ler !’)’.») 89 ]•> it- n ■ . and Decoration (August 1920):149- tiona! Studio (December 1922): 240. 81-82.3d. V-.y, Arts and Decoration (January 1918): 106-108. 34. Ibid. 35. Guy Pene du Bois, “Art by the Vlay, p;i 1921). 192. 19221:240 244. exhibition’s proceeds, jealousy, and personality clashes also ing," Aris and Decoration (March 1918): 203. 33. Pene du Bois, “Reflections of Men and Art, ..Hl I ’.rilin',p. .. \rt i \ the ' . i, " Interna- 5;i Guy P* lie >u HI! ■ r» "X iii’hr'p t hinhr ’I he Man .1 Normal 1 » eik." V' nJ M n (].<•:♦ vy 19221. 87 91. ---- Art by the Painters and Sculptors Squabble," Arts and Docoration (July played a part in his decision to resign from the Society. I /nfemah rj- . "Art by the tional Studio (July 1923): 350. 30. Guy Pene du Bois, “Exhibitions at the Galleries: 11. Ibid., p. 151. 13. Guy P&ne du Bois, “An Expression of Individu ality: The A. E. Gallatin Collection of Graphic Art,” Arts inK’ ------ 1914): 355. Financial irregularities in the handling of the p. 151. - . “Ari by the A i 19221.177 1913): 154. 7. Ibid. j i Ju Ih“Art Lv the Wi. 58. I'< Rrpubl -a, s.a.ul {ri,,h • i>n 5i. I’ll) Ju Hr,-. tV J,., (|, ||H. (July 1922): 345 34- Decoration (February 1913): 124. ogy of the Modem Movement, Arts and Decoration (March (New York: American Artists Group, 1940): 86. ’. ■’ B rb r' .< hugely cstif Mongrel Manhath Ian in In j • ■ _ Y rl- Farrar Slrauft /in J < «iri>u , 2. F G. ‘ ■_ h , I li: ■ Unit •. calling I Lun a I’ •'''b. imn . .1-. ntiFcd (-.• st t r> « ntali’.r < >f pt'pul *r. !• rabri ft.*, » ulturt 178. 26. Guy Pene du Bois, “The Bold Freedom of C er- Present Tendencies of German and American Art,” Arf- ird 6. Guy P£ne du Bois, Artists Say the Silliest Things ' Guv 1’0:". < I I '",! S'f;. m? (M.iy V-• Al* 1,9 rqurl, ».i a Br ’. j* >. i: : Pctn-du B. •?•, “Art I . . supplement his income while in France with periodic ar­ The Spirit and the Chronol­ ■ 7, ticles, be did very little writing for publication while abroad. 5. Guy P&ne du Bois, J>. [• LE< IED IIIIMCI 111 y columns for International Studio, written between crash in October 1929. Although he had intended to the her nsr of I .If a 23. ibid., p. 98. 24. ibid., p. 97. Pene du Bois continued: “Reinbn ■ (1) his tenure as a music and art critic for the New York 1922 and on. The ituurakk- optimistic __ in 1910 llif movie version, 'tarring Mary 17.'-' ■- . • • i “ >, a ir ,titd f-»r v«irn»ng iu 19.3). I \ u. J) I rrj H-n- hegriffe [Principles of Art History] (1915). Pen I'Ci.e ' i 1‘ 1 P 'Jyaima. an 1 >■ “AH In -A, p 81 .[til ri'ivr I . .1 19 I -J TJ‘, jnna. a novel and it* Baroch [Renaissance and Baroque] (1888), Die hlassiache and Informal View, "Arts and Decoration (January 1918):108. 4. Guy Pene du Bois’ essays fall into four periods: ll>:J , p. 515 i !• vrii year «JJ, fiK ce.« 20. Wolfflin’s major work* are Renaissance and P- 46 47. Ibid , p 517 19. ibid., p. 95. to Betsy Faklnian'fi pioneering work on Guy Pene du Bois. 8. P^ne du Bois, 54 44. Ibid Ibid , p 536. 1S.X j£u3j ><t, 53-Guv Pin; Ju Bt'ji Republican Painting," p. 535 45 : 8/kJv (Ju’v 1019 <15 43. Penc du B.-n , “zXrt by the Vtay: The Pi.-iug t; NOTES du I'. I, p 81. tionalStudio (October^ 1922): 88. —-------- . “Despotism and Anarchy in Art: I he *ymboiisni - Ari and Progress |J&r,ugry 1914). 89-94. ----- . "Officiul Aiu'.n- an {minting " Arts and Dscjrahon (March 1918). 2(H 203. ------- “Lefts *:o r._ of .Me:; and Art." Arts and Decoration (June 25. I92C :81-82, 118 ----------- . ^l inthrup Chin! r Lhe Man a Nurmal Evnric. * A.ris ar.d Decoration (January 1921j 192. _______ “The Spirit and the l.-hr -r'iLgy t f the M Aern Mcvemer-t," /Iris and iJecaralian t.M irch 1913): 151- 154, 178 _ ______ . "4,.': in: G.ackena, Normal Man: j he Beat Eyes in America." Arts and Decoration (September lc,14i 464-466. �Checklist cf the Exhibition 12. The Beach, 1924 1. Billhoard, 1920 ... 24. O-V.7-, oil on panel, 2d x 20 in. od on panel, triptych, each panel 20 x 15 in. Norfolk S outhem Corporation, Norfolk, Virginia sheldon Memorial Art Gallery, Montparnasse; 1 927 oil on canvas, 21 ’4 v U ■." 2.George Moore with Seated Woman F. M. Hall Collection (Former title: George Moore and Sarah 13. Isabel Bishop, 1924 25. Bernhardt), 1920 od on canvas, 48 x 36 in. od on panel. 20 .. x 25 oil on canvas, 19 x 2514 in. Arthur J. The Broolku Muscur* Smith College Museum of Art, and Edith S. Levin Promised Gift to the National M uicuin of Northampton, Massachusetts American Art, Smithsonian Institution 3. An American Oriental, 1921 14. Railroad Compartment, 1925 Los Angeles County Museum of Art panel, 21 x 18 in landa Lichtenberg Kaplan Mr and Mre. William Preston I larrison 15 oil oil on canvas, 20*/i»» x 25*/a in. Collection 4. At the Station, 1921 Helena Gunnancon Collection St iVtrrnburg, Florids od <»n panel, 21 u/r> x 18Vr in Oberlin College, Ohio Addison (lallery of Axneru an Art, 17. (9n the Bridge, 1926 oil on panel,22 a 18 in. Purchased with funds from New Hnhiti .Muaeum of Amrru an Art Helen M. Itnvle Bequest Harriet Ru*»eli Stanley Fund Heir ni Guzmanw^n Collection Helena Gunnanson Collection 19. li nt du Jour, 1926 on paper, 19 * x 16r & in oil on canvas, 20 x 25 in B'L.-r lY-i no Collection Marjorie and Charles Benton Collection 20. Subway Steps, 1926 The Wooden Soldier), 1922 od on panel, 25 x 20 in. Bowdoin College Museum of Ari Addison Gallery of American 21 Uomen s Locker Room, National Museum of American Art, ' :r / N . .■ J'Lr, 1928 M ir»e'. . Ana:r; «u Art IVn. 32. / '.eJ ■ . ir;?r 'A, 1928 Jooulu.,. 37 x 29 m Tdkm A C» *df*r Fund Aj.^nse C ■ L - r?. Sice, 1 3 ’• x 10 »in. Auettn P Kcdey CrHett. in Art. 34 Bal des (Juatru Arts, 1929 <il on ...n.-.’ja, 28. i x 36JZ: ui. 1 lie David and Alfred Crr.-irt Museum nf Gift of Fbter Adams, *52 Island, 1926 eW-f« 51 r.. :. r ind graphite -n pafxr, PlulLpa Academy 10. Shovel Hats, 1923 1928 -■ i I 1 A < I'/ A in L-inrur ■:. «i • <Jk turn 33 od on panel, 21 ’* x 171m Gift of Walter K. Gutman, ‘24 od on canvas, 20 x 1414 in. ,.14,11 '/i in ' u-L .. ., 11:-; -.t-.n-.r . uid M _i - .7:. < f Art watenuLjt; charcoal, and graphite Confercnce, 1922 title: JVjVttr V V watcnalr ami ink on pajx-r, 16 4 x 16 m 13% in. 9. The Life Soldier (Former ' - i ' «'! - u t *’■. 13.. T * x 18 in 18. Pans Cafe, 1926 8.Disarmament Con]ere nee/Peace ■' ; i Jm Knuyltuar, l')?7 ! ! San Diego Museum of Art 15 ax ■> 30. After iC Dale od on canvas, 24’. ■ x 32 in 7. The Coachman, 1922 r V> m. I’lidlipii Academy Gift of I ’ll*- it er 6. Chanticleer, 1922 Aojontj Return,na, VP; ■ <! on '.«iv.u, 25' Ire Gle Irr’ , 16. Gid Tying Her Shoe, 1926 19*2 x 14*/* in. Allen Memorial Art Museum, Gift of Mrs. Malcolm 1. McBride, 1948 oil on rain j... 1 V . x IQ m 23. fit,, 1927 J "n . ... .’!•/. x 18',Sin ‘ Art. li-rt UuJmlJe, 1-L.rJj Bequest of John Hinkle 5. In the Wings, 1921 oil on panel, S'njrr. 1027 26. Jfic Ak M. .■7x1 -t. '! I.). Collection oil on panel, 21 A * 18 in Museum of Fine Arts, Gift of die Charter Pal,- Knualuu GeUeriu Cafi Madrid (Ibrtratt of Mr. and watercolor on paper, 13 x 10’Zi in 57- 27 Mrs. Chester Dale), 1926 charcoal, ink, watercolor on paper, . University cf Nebraska-T -inert!n Coney od on canvas, 20 x 16 in. John P. Axelrod Collection * Art, The I diversity of cL-ago Gift of Wdliam Benton 35. Country Wzdding, 192i od ou canma, 36 z 29 in. Smithsonian Institution 22. Americans in Pans, 192i The Mauoogian Collection Gift of Sara Roby Foundation od on canvas, 281 * x 36J/a in. 36. Bather and Son, 1929 11. Studio on Lafayette Street, 192-3 (73 x 92.4 cm) The Museum of Modern Art, New York od an canvas, 21 x 18 inWmtney Museun of .Wrican Art od on panel, 1914 x 24% in. Bavly Art Museum of the University of Virginia Given anonymously, 1935 23. Girl at Montparnasse, 1927 PUrckase 37. He Art Of*™?, n.l watercolor and ink on paper. !□ x 1172 in­ Richard and Carol Levin Helen. G-^a®cr- Gilecboo _ ��� Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Exhibition Programs, 1973-present Description An account of the resource Exhibition programs created by the Sordoni Art Gallery from 1973 to the present. Digitized by Wilkes University Archives interns, Zachary Mendoza and Sophia Kruspha. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Wilkes University Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Sordoni Art Gallery Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1973-present Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Wilkes University retains copyright of these exhibition programs. Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource Exhibition programs, flyers, and calendars. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 1995 May 21 Guy Pene Du Bois: The Twenties at Home and Abroad Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Guy Pene DuBois Betsy Fahlman Stanley I. Grand Stanley I. Grand Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1995 May 21 - August 13 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Type The nature or genre of the resource N/A Subject The topic of the resource N/A https://omeka.wilkes.edu/omeka/files/original/a2f13d56e9c1aa834f7b690220dc6ceb.pdf 68598d9c89aa201455e25bafbd91fdc1 PDF Text Text ������������� Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Exhibition Programs, 1973-present Description An account of the resource Exhibition programs created by the Sordoni Art Gallery from 1973 to the present. Digitized by Wilkes University Archives interns, Zachary Mendoza and Sophia Kruspha. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Wilkes University Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Sordoni Art Gallery Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1973-present Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Wilkes University retains copyright of these exhibition programs. Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource Exhibition programs, flyers, and calendars. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 2016 August 30 Persistence: The Continuing Influence of Classical Myth Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Milet Andrejevic Wendy Artin Caren Canier Thomas Cornell Harvey Dinnersttein Kathryn Freeman Paul Georges Brian Keeler James Merpli Don Peril Kyle Staver Audrey Ushenko Stanley I. Grand Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2016 August 30 - October 12 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Description An account of the resource Artists have found inspiration in Classical Mythology for hundreds of years. In Persistence: The Continuing Influence of Classical Myth, artists have tackled the universal tales- some using traditional imagery and others with a modern twist- but all find inspiration in the Classical narratives. Curator Stanley Grand includes contemporary works that are easily timeless. Type The nature or genre of the resource N/A Subject The topic of the resource classical mythology mythology myths painting paintings painter https://omeka.wilkes.edu/omeka/files/original/65ba4afdec1a639a5f4dd53d645efc85.pdf 267605966eb4b20300f8deeb65f41e93 PDF Text Text ������������������ Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Exhibition Programs, 1973-present Description An account of the resource Exhibition programs created by the Sordoni Art Gallery from 1973 to the present. Digitized by Wilkes University Archives interns, Zachary Mendoza and Sophia Kruspha. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Wilkes University Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Sordoni Art Gallery Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1973-present Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Wilkes University retains copyright of these exhibition programs. Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource Exhibition programs, flyers, and calendars. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 2017 January 20 After Sargent Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Lydia Panas Gail Buckland Heather Sincavage Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2017 Janaury 20 - March 3 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Description An account of the resource Lydia Panas redfines the portrait, creating a far less saccharine facade and delves deeper into the psyche. Inspired by the painting The Daughters of Edward Darley Boit by Sargent, Panas' work had been featured in numerous museums and galleries around the world in addition to features in Time magazine and the New York Times. Type The nature or genre of the resource N/A Subject The topic of the resource Lydia Panas photographer photography photos portraiture Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource SAG https://omeka.wilkes.edu/omeka/files/original/6a9c038d97e0c52e24ae09d9a465eb34.pdf 6bd64b40e8f2c5b3e5b90c39b4aa2ef1 PDF Text Text ������������� Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Exhibition Programs, 1973-present Description An account of the resource Exhibition programs created by the Sordoni Art Gallery from 1973 to the present. Digitized by Wilkes University Archives interns, Zachary Mendoza and Sophia Kruspha. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Wilkes University Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Sordoni Art Gallery Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1973-present Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Wilkes University retains copyright of these exhibition programs. Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource Exhibition programs, flyers, and calendars. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 2017 June 6 This Too Shall Pass Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Mirandah Akeley Corbett Fogue Heather Sincavage Heather Sincavage Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2017 June 6 - July 15 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Description An account of the resource This Too Shall Pass focuses on artists whose body is an intrinsic part of their studio process. Mirandah Akeley and Corbett Fogue consider the emotional significance of body function- a breath, a swallow, a spit. As each artist performs their emotional self, the subtext explores absence, grief, and loss. Type The nature or genre of the resource N/A Subject The topic of the resource Mirandah Akeley Corbett Fogue video performance https://omeka.wilkes.edu/omeka/files/original/a49641a99662d5e4d2f5297373e8c532.pdf 57b0c7c47e994ec485c9f7b92437787b PDF Text Text ����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Exhibition Programs, 1973-present Description An account of the resource Exhibition programs created by the Sordoni Art Gallery from 1973 to the present. Digitized by Wilkes University Archives interns, Zachary Mendoza and Sophia Kruspha. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Wilkes University Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Sordoni Art Gallery Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1973-present Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Wilkes University retains copyright of these exhibition programs. Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource Exhibition programs, flyers, and calendars. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 2018 April 7 American Illustration and Comic Art Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Charles Addons Alfred Andriola Rolf Armstrong Paul Bacon Walter M. Baumholfer Rudolph Belarski Fredrick Blakeslee Enoch Bolles Aurthur William Brown Buck Brown John Caldwell Milton Caniff Al Capp Pruett Carter Howard Chandler Christey Jack Cole Dean Cornwell Bradshaw Crandell Douglas Crockwell Paul Davis Phil Davis Chon Day Billy DeBeck Roy Delgado Joe De Mers Ralph DeSoto Walt Disney Studios Maynard Dixon Harvey Dunn Robert Eckstein Heinz Edelmann Anton Otto Fischer Ham Fisher Harrison Fisher Harold R. Foster Frank Gottfredon Ray Gotto Chester Gould Walter Granville-Smith Harold Gray George Gross Bob Haggart V.T. Hamlin Fred Harman John Held Jr. George Herriman Al Hirschfeld Brune Hogarth Walter Beach Humphrey E.M. Jackson John Jonik Walt Kelly Stanley I. Grand Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2018 April 7 - May 20 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Description An account of the resource From Disney to Playboy and billions of Sunday morning papers in between, the art of illustration is tightly ingrained in the American zeitgeist. Narrative illustration is unique in its ability to be harrowing, hilarious, or politically motivating, at times simultaneously. Though often used as advertisement, these works also stand alone as art in their own right. Type The nature or genre of the resource N/A Subject The topic of the resource comics comic art American art American illustration Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Andrew Sordoni