Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Armory Show


New York Armory Show 1913
The Armory Show of 1913, officially known as The International Exhibition of Modern Art, was the first large exhibition of such works in America. The exhibit challenged and changed both the academic and public definition and attitude toward art, and by doing so altered the course of history for American artists. Marking the end of one era and the beginning of another, The Armory Show shattered the provincial calm of American art. It rocked the public and blasted the academies of painting and sculpture. Four thousand guests visited the rooms on the opening night. For the first time, the American public, the press, and the art world in general were exposed to the changes wrought by the great innovators in European art, from Cezanne to Picasso. The exhibit led to profound changes in the art market in the United States, and to the broad acceptance of modern works.
4 of our artists exhibited there.
Cassatt
Hassam

Ryder

Twachtman

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

The Civil War

http://americanart.si.edu/education/pdf/civil_war_photo.pdf

Historical Background:

The Civil War, the so-called first modern war, was also the first to be thoroughly photographed. Some 1500 photographers produced thousands of images in urban studios as well as in temporary locations in the field. Aside from the photographic portraits affordable to even the poorest soldier, the public could purchase group portraits of important officers, scenes of camp life, and pictures showing the marvels of military engineering such as bridges and fortifications. Battlefield photographs taken shortly after military action form a much smaller category. Photographers carrying cumbersome equipment kept their distance from the fighting, so almost no images exist that depict the action of battle. Though ironically the most often published, photographs of bodies rarelywere taken. The ravage of war is more often seen in photographs of a natural landscape decimated by the firestorm of battle. (from Merry A. Foresta. American Photographs: The First Century. Washington, D.C.: National Museum of American Art & Smithsonian Institution Press, 1996.)

In examining seven Civil War era photographs and the accompanying text, participants should be able to link the photograph to its historical context. Teaching the Civil War through images is a powerful way to provoke discussion and provide a richer understanding of the landscape and the period.

New York 7th Regiment Officers
Egbert Guy Fowx
about 1863 salted paper print mounted on paperboard 5 5/8 x 7 1/2 in. Smithsonian American Art Museum, Museum purchase from the Charles Isaacs Collection made possible in part by the Luisita L. and Franz H. Denghausen Endowment
THE SEVENTH REGIMENT STEUBEN VOLUNTEERS. This regiment, which is composed altogether of Germans, was first organized on the 8th of last January by experienced officers who saw some hard service in Poland, Hungary, Schleswig-Holstein and Greece. The regiment is now full, and mustered in the United States service. From the organization of the regiment up to the time it was admitted into the United States service, the men have been liberally supported by their officers. The uniforms of the men will be after the model of the United States Rifles, and they will be armed with Enfield’s Minie muskets. All of them are young able bodied fellows, and they drill admirably according to Hardee’s tactics. Both officers and men are extremely anxious to get en route, and are now only detained in consequence of having to wait for their equipments from the State. Several of the privates have left their families in very indigent circumstances, and the officers are doing their best to try and alleviate their distress.
7th Regiment New York Civil War Newspaper Clippings. Retrieved May 25, 2006, from New York State Division of Military and Naval Affairs: Military History Web Site: http://www.dmna.state.ny.us/historic/reghist/civil/infantry/7thInf/7thInfCWN.htm

Major H. A. Barnum, Recovery after a Penetrating Gunshot Wound of the Abdomen with Perforation of the Left Ilium,
from the Photographic Catalogue of the Surgical Section William Bell 1865
albumen print on paper mounted on paperboard 8 1/2 x 6 5/8 in. Smithsonian American Art Museum, Museum purchase from the Charles Isaacs Collection made possible in part by the Luisita L. and Franz H. Denghausen Endowment
As head of the photographic department of the Army Medical Museum established in Washington, D.C., after the Civil War, William Bell took pictures of veterans who had been severely wounded in battle. His work provides a visual archive of destruction quite different from the better-known albums of Alexander Gardner and George Bernard. Linking medical science with artistic formality, Bell’s stark portraits of the wounded were compiled in a seven-volume publication entitled Photographic Catalogue of the Surgical Section of the Army Medical Museum. Accompanying each photograph was a detailed description of the injury to the body and the appropriate medical procedure.
Foresta, Merry A. American Photographs: The First Century. Smithsonian American Art Museum (online exhibition). Retrieved on December 12, 2006 from http://americanart.si.edu/collections/exhibits/helios/amerphotos.html

Bivouac of the 45th Illinois near the Shirley House, Vicksburg, Mississippi
O. D. Finch
1863 salted paper print mounted on paperboard 6 1/2 x 8 1/2 in. Smithsonian American Art Museum, Museum purchase from the Charles Isaacs Collection made possible in part by the Luisita L. and Franz H. Denghausen Endowment
During the siege of Vicksburg, Mississippi, the Shirley House, residence of Unionist “Judge” James Shirley and his family, was caught in the crossfire of Union troops led by Ulysses S. Grant and Confederate troops under John C. Pemberton. Surrendering to Union forces, the family was removed from their home to protect them from cannon fire and housed in a manmade cave, like the ones (called sheebangs) in this photograph. The siege ended after six weeks when Pemberton, who was responsible for the city’s residents and more than 200,000 Confederate soldiers (many ill with disease and starvation), surrendered Vicksburg to the Union Army. The Union thereby gained complete control of the Mississippi River. The Shirleys retained their estate until 1902, when it was given to the National Park Service and became the Vicksburg National Military Park.
Foresta, Merry A. American Photographs: The First Century. Washington, D.C.: National Museum of
American Art with the Smithsonian Institution Press, 1996.

The Sick Soldier
studio of Mathew B. Brady
about 1863 albumen print on paper mounted on paperboard 5 5/8 x 7 7/8 in. Smithsonian American Art Museum, Museum purchase from the Charles Isaacs Collection made possible in part by the Luisita L. and Franz H. Denghausen Endowment
When the Civil War began, photographer Mathew Brady obtained permission for himself and his staff to travel with the troops. All photographs taken by Brady or any of his staff were published under the name Brady and Co. Like most photographers during the war, Brady and his staff rarely photographed actual battles. Cumbersome camera equipment and slow exposure times made it difficult to capture action. Instead, they focused on the aftermath of battle, military portraits, and scenes of camp life. Brady’s expertise as a studio photographer may have suggested the posed drama of The Sick Soldier. His picture of a Northern soldier being aided by another played to the collective trauma of mid- nineteenth-century households, most of whom had suffered the loss of a relative or friend.
Foresta, Merry A. American Photographs: The First Century. Washington, D.C.: National Museum of
American Art with the Smithsonian Institution Press, 1996.

Ruins of Gaines’ Mill, Virginia, from Gardner’s Sketchbook of the Civil War
John Reekie 1865/published 1865 Printer: Alexander Gardner
albumen print on paper mounted on paperboard 7 x 9 in. Smithsonian American Art Museum, Museum purchase from the Charles Isaacs Collection made possible in part by the Luisita L. and Franz H. Denghausen Endowment
“Gaines’ Mill” is the place from which the battle of June 27th 1862, takes its name. Situated near the center of our line, it was the scene of severe fighting, and at the close of that bloody day, the building was used as a hospital. All of the structure that would burn, was destroyed in one of the raids around Richmond, leaving only the brick superstructure, above which, scorched by the fire, the dead trees spread their blackened branches. In front, the partially exposed skeleton illustrates the hasty manner of the soldier’s burial, it being by no means uncommon for the rains to wash away the shallow covering, and bring to view the remains of the dead. The owner of the mill did not have a creditable reputation in the army.... If this is true, he suffered no more than his deserts, in the destruction of his property.
Gardner, Alexander. Gardner’s Photographic Sketchbook of the Civil War. New York: Dover Publications, 1959.

Quarters of Men in Fort Sedgwick, Known as Fort Hell
Timothy H. O'Sullivan
1865 albumen print on paper 7 5/8 x 10 in. Smithsonian American Art Museum, Museum purchase from the Charles Isaacs Collection made possible in part by the Luisita L. and Franz H. Denghausen Endowment
This view exhibits the bomb-proof quarters occupied by both officers and men in Fort Sedgwick. Excavations were made in the ground and covered first with heavy pieces of timber, over which a layer of earth, of several feet in thickness, is thrown, sufficient to resist the penetration and explosion of any shell that might fall upon them.... Fort Sedgwick is one of the most advanced points of the United States lines, standing boldly forward, and constantly inviting attack. The work is a very irregular one and is thrown across the Jerusalem Plank Road, one of the most important thoroughfares leading out of Petersburg [Virginia]. ... Scarcely a day passed without witnessing a heavy artillery duel, and each hour of those many long and weary months, as two brave armies lay opposite to each other, could be heard the shrill, sharp report of some leaded messenger of death. It was here, as elsewhere, that only the reckless would dare expose the slightest part of the person even for a second, and well does this noted spot deserve the not very euphonious name to ears polite, as given by the soldiers, of “Fort Hell.”
Gardner, Alexander. Gardner’s Photographic Sketchbook of the Civil War. New York: Dover Publications, 1959.

Burnside Bridge, Across Antietam Creek, Maryland, from Gardner’s Sketchbook of the Civil War
Alexander Gardner
1862/published 1865
albumen print on paper mounted on paperboard
7 x 9 in.
Smithsonian American Art Museum, Museum purchase from the Charles Isaacs
Collection made possible in part by the Luisita L. and Franz H. Denghausen Endowment
One mile below Sharpsburg [Maryland] on Antietam Creek, a stone structure, known as the “Burnside Bridge,” crosses the stream. ....
It was at this point that some of the most desperate fighting of the battle of Antietam occurred. The right of the Federal line was several miles above, and with the center hotly engaged, the Confederates slowly forcing them back, while General Burnside, commanding the Ninth Corps, was ordered to carry this point and turn the enemy’s right. As is partially shown by the photograph, the banks of the stream were very steep, and well defended by rifle pits which were covered by the guns of the Confederates on the ridge in the background. The assaulting column suffered heavily as it approached the bridge, and, in crossing, was exposed to a murderous fire, through which it rapidly pressed, breaking over the lines of the enemy like a resistless wave, and sweeping him from the hillside. Here our troops again formed under a heavy artillery fire, and pushed forward into the standing corn, out of which a second line of Confederates suddenly arose and renewed the contest, which lasted for many hours, finally resulting in our victory. At the close of the fight the dead and wounded on the field here presented seemed countless. The Confederates were buried where they fell, and our own dead carefully interred in groups, which were enclosed with the material of fences overthrown in the struggle. The stone wall extending from the bridge still bears evidence of the battle, and is the only monument of many gallant men who sleep in the meadow at its side.
Gardner, Alexander. Gardner’s Photographic Sketchbook of the Civil War. New York: Dover Publications, 1959.

Additional resources
http://rmc.library.cornell.edu/7milVol/

Gardner’s Photographic Sketch Book of the War (Washington: Philp & Solomons, 1865–66) 
was published in two editions, one in 1865 and the other in 1866, both editions consisting of two volumes of fifty albumen print photographs, each with a descriptive caption, generally believed to have been written by Gardner himself. The Cornell University copy is from the first edition, containing one hundred unnumbered plates.
 
Historians estimate that no more than 200 copies of the Sketch Book were produced. The small print run is due primarily to the difficulty of mass-producing photographically illustrated books in the 1860s, before the advent of simple, reliable photomechanical processes. The original photographic prints were pasted onto boards, which were then bound together with letterpress-printed text. The set of two volumes sold for $150, a price that reflects the laborious production methods necessary for this work. 200 sets were ultimately published, but many did not sell. The high price most likely accounts for the project’s financial failure. 
“The Blank Horror”: War and its Victims
Gardner’s photographers did not whitewash the gruesome reality of the battlefield. Following the army’s movements closely, they sometimes set up cameras while combat was still underway. Frequently, they arrived at battle scenes before casualties had been buried, as some of the following images demonstrate.
Casualties were not only human: photographers captured the skeletal remains of the city of Richmond after Lee’s army retreated from the Southern capital in April, 1865. Fleeing troops had set fire to munitions warehouses; the explosions triggered fires that destroyed much of the business section of the city and over 1,000 buildings.

“Devastated by the Armies”: The Changed Landscape
Warfare had a dramatic impact on the landscape. Massive engineering projects displaced earth, removed timber for building material, and erected large structures, all of which altered familiar terrain. Fort Sedgwick (right) on the Petersburg, Virginia, front, was a notable example of defenses carved out of the earth; it was designed by Major Washington Roebling. Battles brought tent cities, while artillery destroyed trees and rocks. In short, war changed the topography—a reality seen especially well through the eye of Timothy O’Sullivan.


Faithful Servants: the Administration of War
Gardner’s photographic studio in Washington, D.C., brought him into close contact with many important government officials. Allan Pinkerton was a personal friend of Gardner’s, and first hired the photographer as an agent of the Union Army’s Secret Service. Gardner began by making photographic reproductions of secret documents, later documenting battles through photographs. All the while, he maintained a thriving commercial trade in photography. He took thirty-seven portrait photographs of President Lincoln—more than any other photographer. Thus Gardner had a special knowledge of and appreciation for the Union’s “faithful servants” who worked quietly, but effectively alongside soldiers.

“The Very Life of Camp”
Many of the photographs Gardner chose to include in his Sketch Book depict mundane moments of the soldier’s life. The detailed examination of the unglamorous aspects of life in military encampments testifies to the familiarity that Gardner and his photographers enjoyed inside the camps. Cities of tents, post offices, blacksmiths—all became subjects for the camera. The images also bring insight into the leisure time spent by soldiers, both through David Knox’s image of a cock fight, and through Gardner’s verbal description of sports, games and regimental pets. Finally, James Gardner’s Breaking Camp (detail, right) offers a view of a camp dismantled, its text, written after the war, is a nostalgic ode to a way of life gone by.

Advantageous Auxiliaries:
Warfare & Technology
New technologies developed in the mid-nineteenth century had a dramatic impact on military engagements during the Civil War. Samuel F. B. Morse’s telegraph, operating in the U. S. since 1844, proved to be a powerful means of communication. Gardner’s captions provide fascinating detail about the construction and use of the telegraph in the field. The figure standing to the left of the field telegraph wagon in David Knox’s photograph, plate 73, Field Telegraph Battery Wagon (right), is James Gardner, brother of Alexander Gardner, and contributing photographer (see plate 63, Breaking Camp). Ironically, signaling—an ancient form of communication—proved itself just as crucial to military operations as the humming telegraph wires, as the text accompanying Plate 22, Signal Tower. Elk Mountain, Overlooking Battle-field of Antietam, demonstrates.
The wet collodion, glass plate negatives used to take these photographs required long exposures of 20 seconds to five minutes. Split-second movements could not be captured, which accounts for the many ghost images of subjects who had moved during the exposure. The long exposure time needed partly accounts for the presence of only one active combat scene in the Sketch Book: Plate 31, Battery D, 2nd U. S. Artillery in Action.

“To the Memory of the Patriots”
Gardner’s essential project was to recount the history of the Civil War through images. Gardner planned the Sketch Book as a form of documentation, but was capable of stretching the truth for the sake of storytelling. He was also aware of how crucial a role he, his photographer colleagues, and other professionals had played in the telling of history throughout the war. The New York Herald, for instance, assembled its own army of correspondents to follow the movements of the Army of the Potomac. Photographers and journalists worked together to memorialize events and sites of the war, their images and words serving as monuments alongside the obelisk at Bull Run (right).

Gettysburg
The photographers Alexander Gardner, Timothy O’Sullivan and James Gibson set off for Gettysburg on July 3, 1863, hours after telegraphs had relayed the news that the battle had begun. Gardner was briefly captured by J. E. B. Stuart and his retreating troops in Emmitsburg, Maryland, while en route to Gettysburg, but was released after a few hours’ detention. When the photographers arrived in Gettysburg, they found battlefields strewn with corpses, and set up their cameras to record the scenes. The two most famous images of the Sketch Book were taken at Gettysburg: Harvest of Death, by O’Sullivan, and Home of the Rebel Sharpshooter, by Gardner. Both images depict the human cost of warfare in very stark terms, directly confronting a few of the many corpses the photographers encountered. It has been determined that Gardner added a rifle from his collection of props, and moved the body of the sharpshooter to construct a more artistic composition for his own photograph. His accompanying text, written three years later, is likewise a heavily fictionalized account of the sharpshooter’s demise.








Winslow Homer

Winslow HomerBorn: Boston, Massachusetts 1836

Died: Prout's Neck, Maine 1910


Biography

Painter and graphic artist. Homer's illustrations of the Civil War forHarper's Weekly are singular and outstanding examples of wartime reporting. Later, his dramatic paintings of the sea, many of which were completed at his seacoast home in Prout's Neck, Me., established Homer as a leading American artist.

No single artist represented as many different old New Englands as did Winslow Homer. An illustrator, watercolorist, marine and landscape painter, Homer's vision of his native region enjoyed great currency in his lifetime and influenced countless others, both before and after his death. His path to greatness, like so many other painters of the period, led directly out of a work-a-day middle-class background.
Homer's father owned a hardware store in Boston and his mother was an accomplished watercolorist. The younger Homer took a job with John Henry Bufford and, like James Wells Champney, the future artist seemed destined for a career as an illustrator. In 1859, however, Homer moved to New York City and began taking classes at the National Academy of Design. He came to popular attention during the Civil War as a sketch artist for Harper's Weekly and his oil paintings of wartime scenes secured his place as a major American talent. He was elected to the National Academy in 1866.
Homer traveled to Paris that year and upon his return focused his art on nostalgic scenes of rural life, including one-room school houses, children at play, country stores, and an old wooden mill. In 1881 and 1882, he lived in Cullercoats, an English fishing village on the North Sea coast. Homer relocated to Prout's Neck, Maine, and, for the remainder of his life, dedicated himself primarily to painting the rugged people and landscape of the Atlantic coastline.

A Visit from the Old Mistress
1876oil on canvas18 x 24 in. (45.7 x 61.0 cm.)Smithsonian American Art Museumhttp://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/?id=10737A Visit from the Old Mistress captures a tentative encounter in the postwar South. The freed slaves are no longer obliged to greet their former mistress with welcoming gestures, and one remains seated as she would not have been allowed to do before the war. Winslow Homer composed the work from sketches he had made while traveling through Virginia; it conveys a silent tension between two communities seeking to understand their future. The formal equivalence between the standing figures suggests the balance that the nation hoped to find in the difficult years of Reconstruction.

High Cliff, Coast of Maine.
1894
oil.
30 1/2 x 38 1/4 in.

http://americanart.si.edu/exhibitions/online/t2go/1ga/index-noframe.html?/exhibitions/online/t2go/1ga/1909.7.29.html
The ocean wages a mighty and relentless assault on a rocky cliff at Prout's Neck, Maine, where Winslow Homer took refuge from civilization for thirty years. Two small figures at the upper right provide the only hint of man's witness to the natural drama. Homer was despondent when the painting did not sell quickly, saying, “I cannot do better than that. Why should I paint?

Bear Hunting, Prospect Rock
1892
watercolor and pencil
13 15/16 x 20 1/16 in.
Smithsonian American Art Museum, Gift of John Gellatly Guns ready, two grizzled hunters balance against a steep rock face that drops precipitously to a valley floor far below. Though no bear appears in the painting, the danger is palpable. The men are modeled on guides from the North Woods Club where Homer spent much of his time. Prospect Rock, located less than a quarter of a mile away from the clubhouse and reached by a graded trail, was one of Homer’s favorite spots to paint. He often rearranged or modified details of the landscape to suit his compositional needs. In this watercolor Homer presents man as an essential part of nature, neither overwhelmed by its grandeur, nor fully in control of the wilderness.
Art on viewhttp://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/results/?num=10&view=1&name=winslow+homer&title=&keywords=&type=&number=&btnG.x=48&btnG.y=11&btnG=Find

Winslow Homer and the Civil War

http://www.civilwar.si.edu/homer_intro.html
Winslow Homer (1836—1910) was twenty-five when the Civil War began in the spring of 1861. Although his native state of Massachusetts was recruiting thousands of men his age to serve in the Union army, Homer, as a special artist for Harper’s Weekly, was fortunate to have been able to pursue his chosen profession while satisfying his wanderlust for adventure much like a soldier. He was just beginning a lifelong career that would earn him fame and affluence for his paintings of American life and nature, especially of the sea. Already he was winning admirers through the pages of Harper’s with his sensitive wood engravings that portrayed the life of soldiers in camp and conveyed the longing of loved ones left behind.

Homer was mostly a self-taught artist whose talent was readily apparent from the start of his career. It was matched by his determination to develop his skills independently and to his own liking. As evidence of this, Homer declined to join the staff of Harper’s, preferring instead to contribute to the paper as a freelance artist. For Homer, the Civil War provided an unusual opportunity to explore and practice the nuances of his profession, while rendering a service to those who valued his art as a documentary of the war.

Between 1861 and 1865, Homer made several trips to the war front in Virginia. Armed with a letter from Fletcher Harper, the editor of Harper’s Weekly, identifying him as a “special artist,” Homer was able to move through the lines and gain access to the Army of the Potomac. Early in April 1861, he was in Alexandria and witnessed the embarkation of the army aboard steamers that would ferry it to the Peninsula near Richmond in preparation for General George B. McClellan’s long-awaited spring offensive. A drawing he made of the 6th Pennsylvania Cavalry—the only Union regiment to carry lances—gave witness to Homer's eye for the unusual and the dramatic.
Homer sailed with the army down the Potomac toward Fortress Monroe and Yorktown in the Tidewater region. With his drawing supplies of pen and pencil, gray wash, and white paper, Homer stayed with the army for about two months, during which time the siege of Yorktown took place and the Battle of Fair Oaks was fought. Except for what can be delineated in his drawings, Homer never kept records of his movements. Yet the correspondence of an acquaintance, Lieutenant Colonel Francis Channing Barlow of the 61st New York Infantry, indicated that the artist camped, at least temporarily, with the 61st. Homer subtly made this association himself in at least two of his works, in which the number “61” appears on a knapsack. Based on evidence in two other works—the paintings The Briarwood Pipe (1864) and Pitching Horseshoes (1865)—Homer at some point also came in contact with the 5th New York Infantry, also known as “Duryee’s Zouaves.” Labeled “the best disciplined and soldierly regiment in the Army” by General McClellan, they wore distinctive Zouave uniforms of bright red pantaloons, red fezzes, and dark blue collarless jackets. Homer made sketches of these colorfully clad soldiers, fully realizing that this work had a potential for “future greatness.”

“Future greatness.” That was how Homer’s mother described her son and his activities in the fall of 1861. Mrs. Homer’s confidence evokes the self-assuredness of the artist himself. While lasting fame still awaited him, Homer studiously used the backdrop of the Civil War as a practice canvas upon which to record a series of his impressions, a few of which have become iconic images of the common soldier. Many of his sketches would of course appear as wood engravings in Harper’s. Still dozens more would become study-vignettes for future paintings, some of which he put on exhibition and offered for sale.

The Smithsonian’s Cooper-Hewitt, National Design Museum, in New York City owns more than three dozen of Homer’s original Civil War sketches. These form part of a larger collection of 287 drawings donated by Homer’s brother, Charles Savage Homer Jr., in 1912, two years after Winslow’s death. The drawings, many of them rough sketches, are indicative of how Homer worked to compile a portfolio of images for future use. While his artistic skill is clearly evident, these drawings reveal the early work of a man with great ambitions who would become one of America’s most acclaimed artists.

Albert Ryder, Paintings

Christ Appearing to Mary

http://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/?id=21443
1885
 oil on canvas mounted on fiberboard
 14 1/4 x 17 1/4 in. (36.1 x 43.8 cm)
 Smithsonian American Art Museum Gift of John Gellatly
“I can not but feel in some way that in . . . the Religious picture [Christ Appearing to Mary] I have gone a little higher up on the mountain and can see other peaks showing along the horizon.” Ryder to Thomas B. Clarke, quoted in Broun, Albert Pinkham Ryder, 1989
Albert Pinkham Ryder traveled to Europe in 1877 and 1882 to study the art of the European masters. He was inspired to paint many religious subjects, including this image of Christ appearing to Mary Magdalene. Ryder asked one of his friends to model for the figure of Jesus, but his friend felt that because he was “stout and muscular . . . the figure would look rather healthy for a man that had been in the grave three days.” Ryder was unconcerned, replying that the painting of Jesus “should show power as well as spirituality.” X-rays of the image, however, show that he did alter the figure’s arm and chest slightly to make them appear slimmer. (Fitzpatrick, quoted in Taylor, “Ryder Remembered,” in Broun, Albert Pinkham Ryder, 1989)

Dancing Dryads  

http://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/?id=21444

1879
 oil on canvas mounted on fiberboard
 9 x 7 1/8 in. (22.8 x 18.0 cm)
 Smithsonian American Art Museum Gift of John Gellatly
“In the morning, ashen-hued,
Came nymphs dancing through the wood.”
Albert Pinkham Ryder, 1881, quoted in Broun, Albert Pinkham Ryder, 1989
Many American painters in the nineteenth century painted nature as a classical world of dryads, nymphs, and other imaginary creatures. Albert Pinkham Ryder was inspired by a painting by Jean-Baptiste Camille Corot that shows dancing figures in an atmospheric, intimate landscape. In Dancing Dryads, Ryder added many layers of paint and glaze to create a thick, enamel-like surface that emphasized the glowing colors and dreamlike scene. Over time, however, the colors faded and an early restorer actually added the outlines around the figures to prevent them from disappearing into the background. (Broun, Albert Pinkham Ryder, 1989)

Florizel and Perdita
by 1887

http://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/?id=21445
oil on canvas
12 1/4 x 7 1/4 in. (31.1 x 18.4 cm)
Smithsonian American Art Museum, Gift of John Gellatly
1929.6.94
Albert Pinkham Ryder painted several images based on plays by William Shakespeare. His favorite play was The Winter’s Tale, and this small image shows the characters Prince Florizel and the shepherd girl Perdita, who he was forbidden to marry. They discovered that Perdita was actually the banished daughter of a king, however, and the lovers were reunited. Ryder never married and constantly mourned the absence of love in his life. (Broun, Albert Pinkham Ryder, 1989) He may have been comparing himself to Prince Florizel and hoping that he, too, would fall in love with a “princess.”


Flying Dutchman
completed by 1887  
http://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/?id=21446
oil on canvas mounted on fiberboard 14 1/4 x 17 1/4 in. (36.1 x 43.8 cm.) Smithsonian American Art Museum Gift of John Gellatly 1929.6.95 Smithsonian American Art Museum
2nd Floor, East Wing 

Who hath seen the Phantom Ship, Her lordly rise and lowly dip, Careering o'er the lonesome main No port shall know her keel again. . . . Ah, woe is in the awful sight, The sailor finds there eternal night, 'Neath the waters he shall ever sleep, And Ocean will the secret keep. Albert Pinkham Ryder, 1897
Please, make sure to open the link below,
It's 4 pages long but you can actually listen to it. It's easy and fast
http://americanart.si.edu/multimedia/tours/directors/ryder/
Harvest
n.d.
http://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/?id=21447
oil on canvas
26 x 35 3/4 in. (66.0 x 90.8 cm.)
Smithsonian American Art Museum, Gift of John Gellatly

Albert Pinkham Ryder never relied on sketches before he started work on a painting and instead applied large areas of color with quick, expressive strokes of the palette knife. In this unfinished painting, we can see where he changed the composition simply by painting his latest idea over previous attempts. He altered the direction of the hay cart and decided it should be pulled by oxen instead of horses. We can still see the faint outline of a horse behind the wheels, while the oxen are just blocked in with a reddish-brown wash. This painting is a rare glimpse of the early stages of Ryder's work, before he began the painstaking process of adding layer upon layer of translucent glaze. (Broun, Albert Pinkham Ryder, 1989)

In the Stable
before 1911

http://americanart.si.edu/luce/object.cfm?key=338&artistmedia=0&subkey=1088
oil on canvas
21 x 32 in. (53.3 x 81.3 cm)
Smithsonian American Art Museum, Gift of John Gellatly
"I have been working to get my paint less painty looking than any man who went before me . . ." Ryder, Wood diary no. 6, August 1896, Wood Papers, Huntington Library, quoted in Broun, Albert Pinkham Ryder, 1989
Albert Pinkham Ryder painted with a "wet-on-wet" technique, by adding new layers of thick paint and varnish before the previous ones had a chance to dry. This overloaded the work to such an extent that one visitor described his work as a "boggy, soggy, squitchy picture truly," and some paintings are still soft a hundred years later. At one point, In the Stable was covered with a network of cracks known as alligatoring, the worst of which have since been filled by a conservator. The white horse in the image was modeled after Ryder’s horse Charley, which he owned as a child in New Bedford, Massachusetts. (Broun, Albert Pinkham Ryder, 1989)

Jonah

1929.6.98_1d.jpg
Jonah
http://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/?id=21449
ca. 1885-1895
oil on canvas mounted on fiberboard

  27 1/4 x 34 3/8 in. (69.2 x 87.3 cm.)
  Smithsonian American Art Museum Gift of John Gellatly
Jonah is one of Ryder's most densely painted canvases. He reworked this image so many times that the paint layers are still soft to the touch after more than a century. Ryder chose a Biblical tale of damnation, terror, and salvation that suited his poetic temperament and his manner of working. He was a thoughtful and literate painter who often found himself waiting for inspiration to strike. When the moment came, Ryder gave himself over to the act of painting, stopping only to gather his energy and courage. We imagine his brush sweeping and turning through the thick paint, much as Jonah struggled in the ocean’s pitching waves. American artists a generation later were inspired by Ryder's mythic themes and vigorous painting. His example helped them to create a new art for the American century. The abstract expressionist Jackson Pollock once said, "The only American master who interests me is Ryder."


 Jonah unites Ryder's favorite themes of damnation and redemption with his love of the sea. When Jonah defied God's order to go to Nineveh, a great storm threatened to capsize his ship. His terrified companions threw him overboard into the jaws of a great fish. Ryder's tumultuous, churning composition, with its overpowering waves filling the canvas almost to the top, expresses his own sense of abandonment and despair as he sought in vain to take control of his life in middle age. Redemption, he felt, rested in the hands of a forgiving God, who here spreads his cloud-wings over the desperate scene below.

King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid

by 1906 or 1907
http://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/?id=21450
oil on canvas mounted on fiberboard
  24 1/2 x 18 in. (62.2 x 45.7 cm)
  Smithsonian American Art Museum Gift of John Gellatly
 

King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid may have been commissioned by the art collector John Gellatly, who was an enthusiastic supporter of contemporary American art around the turn of the twentieth century. Albert Pinkham Ryder worked on this painting for more than five years, and x-rays of the canvas show that it was painted over two other images. Ryder was inspired by the story of King Cophetua from an Elizabethan ballad that tells of love overcoming all odds. In the tale, a king of Africa falls in love with a beautiful young beggar maid and marries her, despite her lowly status. Ryder was a hopeless romantic and believed wholeheartedly in love at first sight. In this painting he chose the scene when the king first notices the young girl to show that people’s lives could change in just one moment. (Broun, Albert Pinkham Ryder, 1989) 


With Sloping Mast and Dipping Prow
about 1880–85

http://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/?id=21460
oil
12 x 12 in.
Smithsonian American Art Museum, Gift of John Gellatly

Samuel Taylor Coleridge's epic poem, Rime of the Ancient Mariner, a tale of salvation through forgiveness, inspired the first of Ryder's epic seascapes. The curved shape of the boat's sail begins a rhythmic pattern that continues through the upward-drifting night-sky clouds, creating a composition that slowly orbits around a glowing moon.

Lord Ullin's Daughter

before 1907
http://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/?id=21452
 oil on canvas mounted on fiberboard
  20 1/2 x 18 3/8 in. (52.0 x 46.7 cm.)
  Smithsonian American Art Museum Gift of John Gellatly
A Scottish chieftain and his lover flee her wrathful father, but their defiance leads to their deaths in a surging, moonstruck sea. Ryder portrays Thomas Campbell's romantic poem as a scene of mystery, terror, and high drama—just the right combination for the tastes of Gilded Age America.




Image of Moonlight
Moonlight
1887
http://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/?id=21453
 oil on mahogany panel, cradled
  15 7/8 x 17 3/4 in. (40.4 x 45.0 cm)
  Smithsonian American Art Museum Gift of William T. Evans
Image of Panel for a Screen: Children Frightened by a Rabbit
Panel for a Screen: Children Frightened by a Rabbit
ca. 1876
oil on gilded leather mounted on canvas
  38 1/2 x 20 1/4 in. (97.7 x 51.4 cm.)
  Smithsonian American Art Museum Gift of John Gellatly
During the 1870s and 1880s, Albert Pinkham Ryder became friends with the art dealer Daniel Cottier, who commissioned him to paint several leather panels as decorations for furniture. These three panels for a folding screen tell the story of Genevieve of Brabant, who was wrongfully expelled from her home and abandoned in a forest where her young child was nursed by a doe. Ryder frequently returned to the theme of naive innocence, to express his romantic view of women. A layer of gold underneath these images shines through the translucent colors to create a rich, luminous finish that evokes the artist’s idealism. (Broun, Albert Pinkham Ryder, 1989)

Passing Song
    before 1902
     http://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/?id=21457
    oil on wood
    8 1/2 x 4 3/8 in. (21.6 x 11.1 cm) 
    Smithsonian American Art Museum Gift of John Gellatly


    Please open the 3 media links for passing song.
    http://www.americanart.si.edu/luce/object.cfm?key=338&artistmedia=0&subkey=1728


    In the mid-1890s, Albert Pinkham Ryder was infatuated with a voice he heard in his apartment building. He found the woman who was singing and immediately asked her to marry him. His friends intervened, saying that the woman was unsuitable, but Ryder immortalized the event by painting images of beautiful women bewitching men with their songs. In Passing Songthe sailor wants to approach the woman but is unable to turn his rudderless boat as it drifts away with the current. This helpless figure probably symbolizes the artist, who felt passionately about women and fell in love easily, but never married. (Broun, Albert Pinkham Ryder, 1989)

    "By a deep flowing river
    There's a maiden pale,
    And her ruby lips quiver
    A song on the gale,
    A wild note of longing
    Entranced to hear,
    A wild song of longing
    Falls sad on the ears."
    Albert Pinkham Ryder, quoted in Broun, Albert Pinkham Ryder, 1989

     http://americanart.si.edu/luce/media.cfm?key=372&artistmedia=0&object=1728&subkey=73
    http://americanart.si.edu/luce/media.cfm?key=372&artistmedia=0&object=1728&subkey=1080
     http://americanart.si.edu/luce/media.cfm?key=372&artistmedia=0&object=1728&subkey=1234

    The Lorelei

    ca. 1896 - 1917  
    http://americanart.si.edu/luce/object.cfm?key=338&artistmedia=0&subkey=226865
    oil on canvas
    22 1/2 x 19 1/4 in. (57.2 x 48.9 cm)
      Smithsonian American Art Museum

    The Smithsonian American Art Museum's distinguished collection of works by Albert Pinkham Ryder, who has long been considered one of America's greatest romantic painters, is one of the strengths of the museum's extensive Gilded Age material. Together, these works illuminate one of the rare talents of American art. Separately, they provide enchanting glimpses into Ryder's world of literary figures and poetic metaphors.


    The Lorelei, one of the painter's larger canvases, is the only painting by Ryder that links love and death in a way so intriguing to late nineteenth-century artists, poets, and musicians. Ryder based his work on Heinrick Heine's famous poem in which Lorelei was an evil seductress, similar to the Greek siren. She lived atop a high rock along the treacherous narrows of the Rhine River. With her irresistible song, she enchanted passing sailors, who strove to reach her. Here a sailor tries to steer his craft toward the nymph on the rock but is sucked to his death in whirlpools and rapids, as are all others. Heine's The Lorelei was translated and widely published in America and put to music by numerous composers. Ryder quite possibly was familiar with Friedrich Silcher's popular melody of the verse, for friends often heard him "sing the song of the Lorelei" while working on the painting during his night sessions.


    Ryder was obsessed with this dark and brooding scene, which he worked over more than any of his other paintings. The tragic scene and his inability to let it go may in fact symbolize Ryder's realization that he was never to find a woman to love. From the mid-1890s until his death in 1917, he strove for the perfection of his inner vision, even though he pronounced the painting "finished" in 1896. Visitor after visitor remarked on the constantly changing position of Lorelei within the painting.


    The Lorelei originally was intended for Helen Ladd Corbett, daughter of Portland, Oregon, banker William Ladd and a close friend of Charles Erskine Scott Wood, one of Ryder's major patrons who acted as intermediary. Mrs. Corbett even paid for it, but never received the painting. For unknown reasons the painting went to Wood after the artist's death and remained in the Wood family until 1957. Alastair Martin purchased The Lorelei in 1959, and his son, Robin Martin, gave the painting to the museum in 2011. In 2005, Alastair Martin presented the museum with Ryder's early, small painting The Lovers' Boat,
    http://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/?id=74942
    depicting two blissful lovers in romantic moonlit and suggesting the painter’s optimism towards finding love. Thus, Ryder comes full circle in these two paintings.


      The tale of the Lorelei became popular in the mid-nineteenth century when German poet Heinrich Heine (1797-1856) penned a poem about her, which a number of composers set to music. Ryder's image is based on the second and third stanzas of the poem (above), and his friends reported that he sang "the song of the Lorelei" while working on this painting. According to German folklore, the Lorelei is an evil seductress who lives on a large rock above the Rhine River. Much like the sirens of Greek mythology, she beguiles sailors with her singing, luring their ships to destruction. There actually exists such a rock, marking the river's narrowest point between the North Sea and Sweden. The strong current and submerged rocks make this area dangerous to navigate and it has been the scene of many shipwrecks throughout history. Ryder worked on The Lorelei for many years. He wrote in 1896 that he'd finished the painting, but continued to rework the canvas until his death, more than twenty years later. Ryder struggled with where to place the "witching maiden," and over the years his glazes faded, causing the figure to blend into the rocks behind her. (Broun, Albert Pinkham Ryder, 1989)


    The last peak rosily gleaming
    Reveals, enthroned in air,
    A maiden, lost in dreaming,
    Who combs her golden hair
     Combing her hair with a golden
    Comb in her rocky bower,
    She sings the tune of the olden
    Song that has magical power.
    (Heinrich Heine, "The Lore-Ley," in Poems of Heinrich Heine, trans. Louis Untermeyer, 1957)



     
     
     


    Albert Pinkham Ryder, Biography

    Albert Pinkham Ryder

    Also Known as: Albert P. Ryder
    Born:
    New Bedford, Massachusetts 1847
    Died:
    New York, New York 1917 
    Painter. Themes of nature, literature and religion dominate his visionary, romantic and highly imaginative paintings. The Race Track (Death on a Pale Horse) (ca. 1880s–90s) is a significant work.

    Albert P. Ryder was a descendant of Cape Cod families, and his paternal grandparents belonged to a strict Methodist sect whose women dressed Quaker fashion. In 1840 the family moved to New Bedford, then the greatest whaling port in the world, and it was there that Albert was born in 1847. In 1879 the family moved to New York, Ryder's home for the rest of his life.
    He studied for a time at the National Academy of Design, and also under the portraitist and engraver, William Marshall. His first recorded exhibition at the National Academy was in 1873. In 1877 he went to London for a month and in 1887 and 1896 he crossed and recrossed the Atlantic on a ship captained by a friend of his.
    The preceding information is a selection of the facts of Ryder's biography; [T]he facts do not illumine his gifts and his personality. As Barbara Novak observed, Ryder's entire oeuvre, religious or secular, might be seen as an act of devotion. Ryder painted two versions of the Easter morning encounter of Christ with the Magdalene, another version of the Way of the Cross, the extraordinary Jonah, and many small seascapes. The latter are the work of a visionary and a romantic, one who sees all of nature within the purview of the Almighty, as is also the case in his Jonah.
    In studying Ryder's work, it is interesting to discover that the human figure is most fully realized in the paintings with religious subject matter; in the two paintings of Christ and the Magdalene, and the Joan of Arc, the figure is larger in scale, and rendered with more detail, and more psychic identity than is the case in his other works. In the filtered daylit or moonlit land- and seascapes (actually the terms land- and seascapes with their suggestion of horizontal extension in space do not seem appropriate for these glimpses of nature distilled by the hand and the spirit of Ryder), the human figures are embedded in nature, their posture and gestures hardly distinguishable from their setting.
    Lloyd Goodrich says that Ryder is "one of the few authentic religious painters of his period" in whom religion was not mere conformity, but deep personal emotion. The life of Christ moved him to some of his most tender and impressive works."
    Because of Ryder's method of working on his canvases over long periods of time, applying layers of pigment upon earlier coats which were not entirely dry, his paintings are in fragile condition. Many of them can only survive in entirely controlled and stable conditions.
    Jane Dillenberger and Joshua C. Taylor The Hand and the Spirit: Religious Art in America 1700–1900 (Berkeley, Cal.: University Art Museum, 1972)
    "When my father placed a box of colors and brushes in my hands, and I stood before my easel with its square of stretched canvas, I realized that I had in my possession the wherewith to create a masterpiece that would live through the coming ages." Ryder, "Paragraphs from the Studio of a Recluse," quoted in Broun, Albert Pinkham Ryder, 1989
    Albert Pinkham Ryder moved to New York with his family in the late 1860s. He applied to the National Academy of Design but failed the entrance exam. On his second try he passed, but rebelled against the traditional discipline and eventually abandoned realistic painting to express his feelings in "great sweeping strokes." In 1878 he was asked to join the Society of American Artists, a group protesting the strict requirements of the academy. Ryder became a recluse as he grew older, maintaining contact with the world only through a few trusted friends. He would often spend months or even years reworking a canvas. One frustrated client claimed that he had to leave instructions for his funeral procession to stop at the artist’s studio in order to collect his long-awaited painting. Ryder supposedly replied that "it couldn’t go out then unless 'twas done." (McBride, "News and Comment," quoted in Broun, Albert Pinkham Ryder, 1989)
     http://americanart.si.edu/luce/media.cfm?key=372&artistmedia=363&subkey=363&artist=4199&ob=488

    Thursday, March 15, 2012

    Abbott Thayer: Still Life and Concealing Coloration







    Still Life and Concealing Coloration

      Thayer's surviving still lifes describe the essentials of a flower in a bowl or on a table, and are filled with subtle colors and the diffused light made popular by French impressionists. These works appear to be quickly and easily painted, and the fluid application of paint suggests a very different process than the more painstaking approach he used for his angels and ideal figures, which often took years to complete.
    From his earliest attempts at painting, Thayer was drawn to animals and nature, finding subjects in the forests and streams of New England. His careful observation of nature and thorough academic training in the laws of color and values led him to study how animals use natural camouflage to conceal themselves from predators. With his son Gerald, he published his theories as Concealing-Coloration in the Animal Kingdom (1909).
    Thayer claimed that nature camouflaged animals by placing their darkest colors on their backs to counter the sunlight falling upon them, and their lightest colors closest to the dark ground. The fractured outlines and patterns, mimicking native habitats, would cause the animal to disappear when placed against the appropriate background.
    The book drew considerable criticism, particularly from President Theodore Roosevelt, also an amateur naturalist. Roosevelt and others rejected Thayer's argument that the purpose of all animal coloration, no matter how conspicuous, was for the purpose of concealment. Some of Thayer's ideas were applied to camouflage during World War I.

    http://americanart.si.edu/exhibitions/online/thayer/paintingsnoframe.html?/exhibitions/online/thayer/still-Thayer53.html

    Painting: Copperhead Among Dead Leaves







    "Our book presents, not theories, but revelations." Abbott Thayer, 1909
    In 1909, Abbott Handerson Thayer and his son, Gerald, published a controversial book titled Concealing Coloration in the Animal Kingdom, offering their theory of animal camouflage. Thayer believed that the coloration of animals, no matter how eye-catching, was meant to disguise them in nature through what he called "countershading." Even bright pink flamingoes would vanish against a similar colored sky at sunset or sunrise. No matter that at times their brilliant feathers were highly visible, their coloration would protect them from predators at crucial moments so that "the spectator seems to see right through the space occupied by an opaque animal."
    Not all readers were convinced. The most passionate criticism came from Teddy Roosevelt, who was in Africa when the book came out. He protested upon his return that Thayer's theory was ludicrous, arguing that on his trip he had spotted some of the animals Thayer mentioned from miles away. Roosevelt's challenge sparked a heated debate between the two men. Roosevelt wrote a 112-page article refuting Thayer's ideas; Thayer repeatedly invited Roosevelt to his home in New Hampshire, hoping to demonstrate his theories, but Roosevelt always refused (Nemerov, "Vanishing Americans: Abbott Thayer, Theodore Roosevelt, and the Attraction of Camouflage," American Art, Summer 1997).
    Please read:
    http://eyelevel.si.edu/2008/10/in-this-case-ma.html
    Please watch the following short movie about his work
    http://americanart.si.edu/luce/media.cfm?key=372&artistmedia=0&object=169&subkey=78
    Roses
    ca. 1890

    http://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/?id=23947
    oil
    56.6 x 79.7 cm
    Smithsonian American Art Museum, Gift of John Gellatly
    The fluid application of paint lovingly describes these flowers, of which a critic said, "A bowl of roses in Thayer's hands becomes more than a flower-piece; it is a glimpse into the very center of beauty."
    The critic who wrote this was aware of Thayer's rare ability to apply paint in a fresh and fluid way, bringing these pink and white tea roses to life.
    Flower Studies
    ca. 1886
    http://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/?id=23931oil
    62 x 46.3 cm

    Smithsonian American Art Museum, Gift of John Gellatly
    This study of white water lilies and tall trumpet-shaped lilies in red and white shows how Thayer worked out details of flowers before setting them into a final composition. The lilies are painted over traces of a landscape design that can be seen underneath the flowers.
    Abbott Handerson Thayer grew up surrounded by nature in Keene, New Hampshire, and for the rest of his life sought refuge in rural places and fresh air. Even though he was part of the New York art scene in the 1880s, he lived with his family outside of the city in several towns along the Hudson River. This study of water- and trumpet lilies, with its bright colors and quick brushstrokes, shows his method of working out the details of the flowers before placing them in a final composition.
    Peacock in the Woods
    1907
    Collaboration with Richard Meryman
    http://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/?id=23964oil
    50.6 x 51.2 cm

    Smithsonian American Art Museum, Gift of the heirs of Abbott H. Thayer 
    Thayer and his student Richard Meryman created this painting as an illustration for Thayer's book Concealing-Coloration in the Animal Kingdom (1909). More than a demonstration of the principles of natural camouflage, Peacock in the Woods is an excursion into optical complexity, wildlife art, and impressionist painting.

    Hooded Warblers
    1900–09
    Gerald H. Thayer and Gladys Thayer
    watercolor, stencil, and oil on wood
    30.7 x 25.6 cm
    Smithsonian American Art Museum, Gift of the heirs of Abbott H. Thayer
    Painted by Abbott Thayer's son and daughter, this depiction of the Hooded or Yellow-Throated Warbler and its background demonstrates natural camouflage. The bird on the overlay has the same color and pattern as its background, which is painted on the underlying panel. You can demonstrate this by placing your mouse over the image, and you will see the form of the bird appear in the mask.


    Blue Jays in Winter, study for book Concealing Coloration in the Animal Kingdom
    about 1905-09
    http://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/?id=23924
    oil on canvas
    22 1/8 x 18 1/8 in. (56.1 x 45.9 cm.)
    Smithsonian American Art Museum, Gift of the heirs of Abbott Handerson Thayer
    1950.2.12
    "Our book presents, not theories, but revelations." Abbott Thayer, 1909
    In 1909, Abbott Handerson Thayer and his son, Gerald, published a controversial book titled Concealing Coloration in the Animal Kingdom, offering their theory of animal camouflage. Thayer believed that the coloration of animals, no matter how eye-catching, was meant to disguise them in nature through what he called "countershading." Even bright pink flamingoes would vanish against a similar colored sky at sunset or sunrise. No matter that at times their brilliant feathers were highly visible, their coloration would protect them from predators at crucial moments so that "the spectator seems to see right through the space occupied by an opaque animal"
    Not all readers were convinced. The most passionate criticism came from Teddy Roosevelt, who was in Africa when the book came out. He protested upon his return that Thayer's theory was ludicrous, arguing that on his trip he had spotted some of the animals Thayer mentioned from miles away. Roosevelt's challenge sparked a heated debate between the two men. Roosevelt wrote a 112-page article refuting Thayer's ideas; Thayer repeatedly invited Roosevelt to his home in New Hampshire, hoping to demonstrate his theories, but Roosevelt always refused (Nemerov, "Vanishing Americans: Abbott Thayer, Theodore Roosevelt, and the Attraction of Camouflage," American Art, Summer 1997).
    PLease watch this podcast
    http://americanart.si.edu/luce/media.cfm?key=372&artistmedia=0&object=169&subkey=78


    Other paintings in the Smithsonian relevant to the Concealing book:
    http://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/?id=23963
    http://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/?id=23944
    http://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/?id=23949
    http://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/?id=23953
    http://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/?id=23948


    Landscapes and Mount Monadnock


    Thayer's early landscapes were sunny views of hills dotted with cattle. At the turn of the century, he developed a broad style with fresh, brisk brushwork. He combined thinly painted washes and thick brushstrokes to create the illusion of great distances.


    After 1900, Thayer focused on views of Mount Monadnock, the grand presence above his home and studio in Dublin, New Hampshire. Thayer's visions of Monadnock owe a debt to transcendentalists Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau, who also stood in awe at the sight of this particular mountain. He portrayed the mountain in its seasonal "personalities," but came to favor a view of the bright dawn's winter sun striking the peak.


    Spring Hillside 
    ca. 1889
    oil
    43.5 x 58.9 cm
    Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Rosse
     

    Mount Monadnock was a familiar sight to Thayer long before he moved to Dublin, New Hampshire. He retained a memory of the majestic mountain from a youth spent in Keene, New Hampshire.Spring Hillside,one of his earliest views of Monadnock, is in striking contrast to the darker, brooding images of the mountain that filled his later canvases


    Winter Sunrise, Monadnock 
    1917 
    oil 
    The Metropolitan Museum of Art, George A. Hearn Fund, 1917.



     Thayer's views of Mount Monadnock became unmistakably his own interpretation of this grand source of spiritual power towering over the land. Maria Oakey Dewing, an artist and close friend, remarked of this painting, "None but one who had come face to face with nature for long periods of study as Thayer had could have painted that landscape called Monadnock.





    Dublin Pond, New Hampshire1894
    oil
    http://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/?id=23930 
    51.1 x 40.8 cm  
    Smithsonian American Art Museum, Gift of William T. Evans
    Thayer described this view of a New Hampshire landmark to the collector William T. Evans as "a very successful picture of the sunshine striking down into the bottom of a summer lake." The vertical format reflects Thayer's interest in Chinese and Japanese paintings, as well as in the work of James McNeill Whistler



    This painting was a wedding present for Abbott Thayer’s friend the architect Stanford White. It is a view near the artist’s home in Dublin, New Hampshire, and Thayer himself thought the finished painting “a very successful picture of the sunshine striking down on the bottom of a summer lake.” Thayer’s many outdoor scenes of Dublin reflect his passion for nature, an interest that also surfaces in his portraits and allegorical scenes, which are often set in New Hampshire’s green fields
    A longtime resident of Dublin, Abbott Thayer  gave the painting to the architect Stanford White as a wedding present, and it hung for many years in White's New York apartment in the old Madison Square Garden.
    http://americanart.si.edu/luce/media.cfm?key=372&artistmedia=0&object=670&subkey=976






    Cornish Headlands 

    1898 

    http://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/?id=23929 
    oil
    76.5 x 101.8 cm  
    Smithsonian American Art Museum, Gift of John Gellatly 
    Thayer described this dramatic view of the cliffs and sea at Cornwall, England, as "one of a very few things I've done that I love."
    While traveling near Cornwall, England, in the summer of 1898, Thayer wrote about this painting to his friend, the architect Stanford White, saying it was “one of a very few things I've done that I love and know to be something like great art.…I sat down on that headland and just reveled in the wonderful fact that its splendor could be to some extent perpetuated on that canvas.”
     
    Monadnockca. 1911
    oil
    4.8 x 43.5 cm 
    This version of Mount Monadnock combines Thayer's expression of the pure joy of paint on canvas with a careful rendering of the mountain's luminous crest. Thayer remarked, "The outline of this mountain against the sky is as sharp as steel. Many painters soften such outlines for the sake of 'atmosphere' but I can't make this one sharp enough."