Dinner: Asian Vegetable Soup!

 

National Portrait Gallery: Icons from America's Past, the galleries of the "American Originals"

 Of all the genres of art, Portraiture was one of the last I learned to love.  I grew up with the stereotypical view that it was just a painting of some dead person.  While mildly interesting, a portrait was hardly worth the time to contemplate beyond the possible attraction to their countenance, or some interest in a period costume or other incidental detail.  What I failed to see first is that a portrait is not a picture, but a story.

And, perhaps even more important, is the fact that a portrait is not a facsimile of the individual's physical characteristics, but a window into their character.  

To be fair, NOT all portraits are either or both of these things.  Sometimes they're just the opinion of the painter.  Certainly those artists who made a career out of painting portraits offered a great deal of opinion about their subjects, but the good ones did so while bringing their subject's character to life and at least a snapshot of their story.  

Some of the worst or least interesting portraits are painted by artists who did not know and had never met the subject.  You see this sort of thing in droves when a famous person dies, like the plethora of portraits of George Washington after his death in 1790.  Portraits that collectively say more about the state of the nation than they do the essence of the man.  19th century portraiture can often feel this way to me.  It tends to diminish its interest for me--and still when approached from more of a cultural lens than a psychological one, it still holds some of the charm that 20th century to contemporary works have.

During my recent visit to the combined Smithsonian American Art Museum and National Portrait Gallery, I did, in fact spend more time in the portions dedicated to the NPG.  The single largest of these covers nearly 40% of the available gallery space on one of the enormous floors in the complex.  The wing entitled, "American Origins" features samples from their massive collection of famous (and not so famous) Americans beginning around 1650 and going up to about 1900.

"George Brinton McClellan, (1826 - 1885)" 

painted in 1888

by Julian Scott (1846 - 1901)

The paintings in this section are not ordered chronologically, but more so by concept of historical and cultural connections.  The first gallery features figures associated with the American Civil War.  This painting made an immediate personal connection with me which I will elaborate on momentarily.

As to the subject, George B. McClellan was one of the most successful of the Union Generals during the civil war.  He is credited for turning a mass of untrained, ill-prepared recruits into a force that became known as the Army of the Potomac.  In their single most successful engagement, during the bloodiest encounter in the war, at the Battle of Antietam Creek about an hours drive north of where I live today, his troops routed the Confederate Army under the leadership of Stonewall Jackson.  

My great-great Grandfather, David Ash, fought for McClellan at Antietam.  He was mortally wounded and died just three months later at the tender age of 22.  I don't get the feeling that he was a very ideological man when it came to the Civil War.  His only child, my Great Grandfather, was born earlier in the same year prior to the battle and was christened Jackson McClellan in honor of both generals--South and North.  The only sense I have about his politics is that as a grown man he went by the name "Mac Ash". 

Painted three years after his death as a commission by his son, George B. McClellan, Jr., the artist had photographs of the General to go by.  Still, when compared to them, this is a more generous portrayal of the man: Noble, Glowing, Saint.  McClellan Jr. had quite the political Career of his own, starting with serving the House of Representatives from the state of New York (1895 - 1903), then becoming the 49th Mayor of New York City (1904 - 1909).  He married Georgiana Heckscher in 1889, a year after the portrait was painted.  She died in 1953, and as part of the dispersal of her estate, the painting was gifted to the Smithsonian American Art Museum which later transferred its provenance to the National Portrait Gallery.  

Whew!  The matrices of our lives are as intricate as any spider web...

"Dorothea Dix, (1802 - 1887)"

Painted in 1868

Samuel Bell Waugh (1814 - 1885) 

At the age of 39, Dorothea Dix began a crusade to bring awareness to not simply the idea of Mental Illness, but a path forward to treat those suffering from it with compassion.  In 1860, she was appointed to the role of "Superintendent of Women Nurses" for the Union Army in the Civil War.  She established strict criteria to the chagrin of the nurses, but earned the title of "Angel of Mercy" from the soldiers.  She held this position without a penny of compensation for five years.

Prior to the war, she founded the famous/infamous St. Elizabeth's Hospital in Washington D.C. in 1855.  It was dedicated to the care of the mentally ill.  In 1868, the institution commissioned this portrait of its founder.  It was during a time when the institution had gained national fame for the care of those members of the Army and Navy who were severely traumatized by the Civil War.  St. Elizabeth transferred the portrait to the National Portrait Gallery in 1938. 

It was the basis for the image that appeared on a definitive Postage Stamp issued in 1983.  It was the first in a wide-ranging series entitled "Great Americans".

"Rebecca Gratz, (1781 - 1869)"

painted in 1831

Thomas Sully (1783 - 1872)

I might be gay, but I'm not blind.  What a beautiful woman.  How modern looking a portrait for 1831...Oh, Thomas Sully.  That explains it.  He's a painter with a Post Impressionist's touch before most of the Impressionist Super Stars were even born.  It doesn't take a genius to see the style of someone like John Singer Sargent's paintings in his.  So who was this beautiful woman?  That's an even more impressive story.  One written in the annals of her beloved Philadelphia.

The Major Hits:

• 1801 - Co-founder, Female Association for the Relief of Women and Children in Reduced Circumstances
• 1815 - Co-founder, life-long Secretary of the Philadelphia Orphanage Asylum
• 1819 - Founder of the United States Benevolence Society
• 1838 - Founder first Jewish Sunday School
• 1855 - Founder first Jewish Orphanage

This is a testament to all of the amazing Americans we know nothing about.  Were they perfect?  No one is.  We don't, well we shouldn't, hang our hats on the hook of perfection.  But did they take the opportunity afforded them by America to do good for others?  That should be the story we are telling ourselves today.  That's the story of what makes America Great, not Fascism and White-Supremacy.  

"Samuel F. B. Morse, (1791 - 1872)"

1862

by The Matthew Brady Studio

Of course, photography is also an option.  This one caught my attention before I even looked to see who he was, because I couldn't help by see a resemblance to Centenarian actor, Dick Van Dyke.  But, no.  It's Samuel F. B. Morse was truly an amazing person.  An extraordinary artist in his own right who eschewed a budding career as a portrait painter because he was not getting the number of commissions he'd envisioned for himself.  So what to do?  I know!  Invent the Telegraph and toss in the Morse Code just for fun.  

The image was in an alcove along with a series of other portraits either by America's first great photographer, Matthew Brady (1822 - 1896) or members of his Studio.  I found a painting of him elsewhere in the galleries, making him the only person with two representations on display.

"Samuel F. B. Morse"

1812

Self-Portrait

(21 years of age)

On we continue with the Self-Portrait.  Before I even realized who this was, or that it was a self-portrait, I thought, "Wow, here's an intense person.  

"John James Audubon, (1785 - 1851)"

circa 1822

Self-Portrait

Here's an American to consider.  Born like Alexander Hamilton in the Caribbean, this time on Haiti, he would have little memory of the place, but even as an adult referenced it as his place of birth.  He was a bastard child, and in spite of his strong Caucasian features, his mother was a household servant on his Father's sugar plantation.  She died within a year or so of young Jean James birth, and around the age of 3 he was sent off to Nantes, France to be raised by his father's legal wife.  The timing of his emigration from Haiti was fortuitous.  At the same time his father sold off portions of the plantation and used some of the money to purchase a new farm in Pennsylvania.  

Audubon's father was the captain of a ship that traded in enslaved people.  The house servants and gardeners in France were former Enslaved people that had been sent there to support his wife.  Audubon grew up in a family with no conscience moral dilemma on the issue, and within two years of his arrival in Nantes the War of Independence for Haiti had begun.  In 1804, Haiti became the first and only Caribbean nation to be liberated by its formerly enslaved population, forever ending any hope the Audubon's may still have harbored regarding returning and reclaiming their Plantation.  

By then, John James was 18 years old and had already immigrated to the United States the year before to take up residency on the farm in Pennsylvania.  At the age of 21 he began looking for business opportunities on his own and moved to Kentucky where he opened a series of General Stores.  It was also at this time that he married his wife Lucy, an English born teacher.  While living in Kentucky, Audubon continued the practice of owning enslaved people with at least nine individuals credited to him through legal documents at the time.  He also participated in the return of at least one escaped slave to their enslaver.  While not a major driver in his life, there is no doubt about where John James Audubon stood on the question of slavery.

 These African Americans were purchased over time in a succession of House Maids/Cooks/Nannies and at least one laborer who worked with the family's horses and in their personal gardens.  He sold off the last enslaved people in 1830, after returning from a 4 year whirl wind trip to Europe where in England he secured an engraver and produce his first commercial folio of his bird drawings.  

Whether or not at any point along the way, Audubon experienced an epiphany on the subject of owning other human beings, I found no evidence.  The fact that he and his wife did, and especially the incident where he assisted in the return of an escaped slave, are sufficient evidence to re-examine his place in the cannon of great Americans.  Let me preface my next remarks by saying, IF he lived today and held such casual, abhorrent beliefs about the institution and practice of slavery, I would be first in line to condemn his artistic genius as "fruit of the poison tree" of racism and worse.  But he didn't   By the age of 45, he abandoned the association.  If only he'd also denounced it.

The publication of his Bird Etching and eventual collection of his lithographic master piece "Birds of America," made this failed merchant, bastard son of slave runner a wealthy enough man that he could have purchased his own plantation and re-established that life-style for his wife and children.  But he didn't.  In his remaining active years were spent on a series of expeditions collecting specimens and making observations for more of his iconic images.  He first spent two years tromping through the Carolina's, Atlantic coast Georgia and Florida down through the Keys.  Next, he hired a schooner and went in the opposite direction exploring the Canadian Maritime provinces up to Newfoundland & Labrador.  Then it was the Republic of Texas with particular time on the Gulf Coast around Galveston a major lay-up point in the great north-south migration of birds.  Finally, he undertook a tracing of the Lewis and Clark expedition up the Missouri River to the north western edges of the Rocky Mountains. 

Audubon is the perfect American for his life-span.  A nation of immigrants.  An ambitious energy.  An exceptional talent.  A moral conundrum from the modern perspective.   There is so much to admire, and yet, a clear reason to denounce his personhood.  I will love you no matter which side you land on!  For me, I will acknowledge the horror of the bathwater without reservation, but I won't likewise toss out the "baby.

"Domingo Ghirardelli, (1817 - 1894)"

1890

Antonio Bozzano, (1858 - 1939)

What a gracious looking man.  Portraits are also 3-dimensional.  This one of Domingo Ghirardelli was created long after he obtained his wealth and fame as a chocolatiere.    He was 73 years old.  Born in Rapollo, Italy, he immigrated to California at the age of 32 in hopes of striking it rich as one of the "miner 49ers," but soon tired of the effort and possibility to succeed.  Plan B?  Sell things to the miners that they wanted.   And soon a chocolate empire was born.  Another Great American story of success.  

Sometimes you will encounter a painting that is so iconic, the fact that it is there, on the wall, right in front of you, just takes your breath away.  The opposite is also true.  Sometimes you encounter an image of someone you've never heard of before in your life, and still it is so compelling you become aware of your breathing.  So let's end with my realization of this juxtaposition.  Let's look at two portraits that embody these ideas.  And who knows where they will take us?  Buckle up, Buttercup!

"Pocahontas, (circa 1590 - 1617)"

after 1616

Artist unknown

I have a hard time imagining a more iconic representation of what Europeans did to Native Americans that Pocahontas' tragic story.  And here she is all dolled up and ready to convince skeptical investors that Native Americans are not savages, but people ready and willing to be assimilated.  The trophy wife of a newly aggrandized tobacco farmer.  Hers is a fairy tale; a real life Eliza Doolittle.  It's unreal...  and isn't that the crux of it?  It is unreal.  The artist, of whom we know nothing, likely never met the real Pocahontas.  He/she based this portrait on an engraving by the 21-year-old Simon Van de Passe.  He made the image in 1616 and had actual contact with her during the work.  When you see the engraving, you'll probably think she A) looks older that she does in the painting (though she's thought be around 26 years old at the time) and B) the shadowing suggests a darker complexion that in the later painting.

While in England, she was the toast of the town, a curiosity that everyone wanted to meet.  But, alas she and her husband had barely set sail on a return voyage to Virginia when she became ill.  The ship made landfall at the nearest English port.  And there in March of 1617, she died and was buried at Gravesend, England near the mouth of the Thames River.

"Francis Davis Millet (1846 - 1912)

1878

George Willoughby Maynard (1843 - 1923)

As to the other side of this odd coin I give you, Francis Davis Millet.  I mean, I'd shove Leonardo DiCaprio off the damned door!  Rather than pretend I know anything about this dapper young man, I'm just going to transcribe the wall placard.

-- o --

"Possessed of an inherent wanderlust, Francis Davis Millet traveled widely during his varied career as a foreign newspaper correspondent, painter, and arts administrator.  After studying at Antwerp's Royal Academy of Fine Arts (1871-73), Millet completed several major mural projects, contributed to four world's fairs, and was the center of an expatriate American artists' colony in England.

"Millet served as a war correspondent for news-papers in New York and London during the Russo-Turkish War (1877-1878) and the Spanish American War (1898).  This portrait, painted in Paris by his friend George Willoughby Maynard, shows Millet wearing Russian and Romanian medals awarded for bravery under fire.

"In 1912, while serving as director of the American Academy in Rome, Millet set sail for New York and was among the approximately 1,500 passengers who perished on the Titanic when the ship sank.  He is honored by a memorial fountain on the ellipse in Washington, D.C."

-- o -- 

As the on time ubiquitous A.M. Radio commentator, Paul Harvey would certainly have quipped, "And now, you know the rest of the story."  Or do you?

The fountain is called the Butt-Millet Memorial Fountain.  It honors both Francis Davis Millet and Archibald Butt.  Captain Butt (Don't you dare laugh!) served in the U.S. Army Quartermaster Corp working with horses in the Philippines and Cuba.  President Roosevelt met him during the execution of his duties in the Philippines and appointed him a Military Aide.  When Taft succeeded Roosevelt, Butt's assistance was considered so valuable, that Taft kept him on in the same role.  So how is it that a fountain is built on the grounds of the White House to honor these to men?  These two confirmed bachelors?  These two long-time companions?  These to "House Mates"?  Are you still asking the question!?

And now--NOW, you really know the rest of the story!  God, I love art!

Smithsonian American Art Museum: Artist to Artist Pairings

 While most of the museum space dedicated to the Smithsonian American Art Museum was closed, there were a couple of pleasant exceptions.  One was this corridor in which two works of art were hung in "conversation" with one another.  It's a wonderful idea.  A chance to ask the viewer with a modicum of information to enter themselves into a dialogue with the Art and, in a way, the Artists themselves.  I love this sort of thing!

Here are 4 of the pairings for your consideration.  I've included both images of the two works, and an excerpt from the wall placard that provides some of the context for the selection.

The pairings are:

• #1 - Alma Thomas and Felrath Hines.  
• #2 - Fritz Scholder and Allan Houser
• #3 - Grace Hartigan and Frank O'Hara
• #4 - Thomas Hart Benton and Jackson Pollock

Of the artists I know well the works of Alma Thomas a local celeb of Abstract Expressionism.  Her paintings are easily recognizable and I have had the pleasure of discovering them beyond the local Museums in the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York City and the Kemper Museum of Contemporary Art in Kansas City.  I was introduced to Frits Scholder's ouvre at the National Museum of the American Indian which hosted a retrospective of his work "Indian/Not Indian" back in 2009.  I bought a T-shirt.  Both Grace Hartigan and Frank O'Hara ran with a group of NYC based artist, writers, poets that were very influential in the mid to latter half of the 20th century.  Grace left New York  in 1960 around the height of their influence for Baltimore.  She set up her studio there and for many years was Director of the Hoffberger Graduate School of Painting at MICA (Maryland Institute College of Art).  I have friend who applied there and met her.  That's 2-degrees of separation, if you keeping track, which is 3-degrees of separation from Frank O'Hara.  An American original, and longtime beloved poet of moi.  Finally, I had no freaking idea that Thomas Hart Benton (a leader in the Regionalism Art Movement) who railed against the East Coast elitist art establishment with their bias against all things Realism knew, let alone "mentored" Jackson Pollock who what the very definition of this east coast artist cabal!  How bizarre is that?  God, I love art!

ONE

"Autumn Leaves Fluttering In The Breeze"

1973

Alma Thomas (1891 - 1978)

"Yellow and Gray"

1976

Felrath Hines (1913 - 1993)

FOOD FOR THOUGHT:

TWO

"He'll Be Home"

1983

Allan Houser (1914 - 1994)

"Indian In The Snow"

1972

Fritz Scholder (1937 - 2005)

FOOD FOR THOUGHT:

THREE

"Frank O'Hara, 1926 - 1966"

1966

Grace Hartigan (1922 - 2008)

"For Grace, After a Party"

n.d.

Frank O'Hara (1926 - 1966)

FOOD FOR THOUGHT:

FOUR

"WHEAT"

1967

Thomas Hart Benton (1889 - 1975)

"Going West"

c. 1934 - 1935

Jackson Pollock (1912 - 1956)

FOOD FOR THOUGHT:

My Little Garden Zoo Closes Early

Every Zoo has its rules.  Mine are simple.  Don't touch the animals.  Unfortunately, Raccoons don't find the rules humans concoct very useful to their agenda.  Hence, this has been a year of constant battle.  Every few days, some part of the zoo has been tampered with.  Then an area of habitats gets ravaged!  Animals strewn about "helter skelter".  Plants torn out. Pottery tipped over and on occasion shattered.

It's been so disheartening.  No space is safe.  Two figurines remain missing.  One no longer available for sale.  I've invested too much into this little joy to allow a rambunctious critter to steal away with my little animal figurines.  

SAAM: Grandma Moses: A Good Day's Work (parting shots)

 I will close this series of reviews with a couple of odds and ends after thoughts.  

One, what did it mean to live for over a century between 1860 and 1961?  She died on December 13, 1962.  I was all of 319 DAYS old!  What if I somehow lived to 2062?  It's incomprehensible.  All the things that she saw.  Some of them are also captured in her paintings and I want to toss two of them in here.

Two, who were all those little people?  Were they just "manikins" plopped into a moment in time like some child's diorama project for school?  Or were they real people?  It's easy to think of them as anonymous characters.  By and large, Moses didn't give them detailed specific qualities--she was not a portraitist.  But still, there are many that hold some aspect of gesture or placement or attire that make you want to ask--who was this?  I'll share two examples.

Three and finally, I share a painting that just delighted the child in me so much.  And then when I connected the dots, it was even more meaningful.  "So Long Til Next Year" is one of her many Christmas themed paintings.  It is based in part on the ubiquitous "T'was The Night Before Christmas" (originally titled "A Visit From St. Nicholas") by Clement-Clarke Moore (1779 - 1863).  Moses painted this work in December of 1960.  She missed the mark by 12 days.  Yet, she clearly set her sights on another Christmas.  How magical.

"The First Automobile"

1939 (or earlier)

"Balloon"

1957

"Cambridge Valley"

1942

"Cambridge Valley" detail.  Who are these young women?  Standing at the left corner observing the landscape spreading out before them?  The clothing would suggest that it isn't Mary Anna Robertson herself, but surely she knew who they were intended to be?  You can imagine as I have, two friends at a fence row watch the sheep below and sharing confidences.  

"A Beautiful World"

1948

We swap genders in this painting and are drawn toward a strapping young man in the foreground.  Unencumbered by any human intercourse, he stands with a bold confidence that seems to scream out, "Hey, look at me!"  His form is uncharacteristically sensual exhibiting the pure strength and confidence of youthful vigor.  And he's a ginger!  That alone would suggest that he is not an anonymous figure filling in some archetypal space, but a person she once knew.  And like the young ladies in the previous painting, now, in a way, so do we.

"So Long Til Next Year"

1960

SAAM: Grandma Moses: A Good Day's Work (What a Grand Doodler!)

 When you visit art, start a dialogue.  Let your mind roam.  Just see what pops up?  Then don't be afraid to connect the dots.  Grandma Moses offers so many intriguing details.  She's often been compared to Renaissance masters like Pieter Bruegel the Elder and Hieronymus Bosch.  The former for his portrayal of the common man's life and the latter for commitment to details that fascinate the imagination.  Ever since I was given a copy of Dr. Seuss' "Go Dog Go," I've loved getting lost in images depicting multiple activities and many stories.  This is very much a component of Moses' paintings.  They are as much stories as they are images.  Here are 5 that illustrate my point.

"The Fight Between Carnival and Lent," 1559

Pieter Bruegel the Elder (c. 1527 - 1569)

"Sugaring Off"

1943

"The Quilting Bee"

1950

"July Fourth"

1951

"The Checkered House"

1955

"Eagle Bridge Hotel"

1959

SAAM: Grandma Moses: A Good Day's Work (On Memory and Themes)

 One of the most interesting things about the paintings of Grandma Moses is just how they represent a by-gone era.  She's not painting the middle of the 20th Century.  She's recreating a nostalgic mid- to late- 19th Century.  And given her resilient life from that time, it is perhaps a wonder that she also made those times feel mostly safe, mostly full of warmth and family and belonging.  Three ideas that are narcotic in their appeal.  

But there is another sublime theme that finds itself arising time and again in her paintings.  That of the pending storm.  A moment when everything must stop and move into "batten down the hatches" mode.  It's a curious juxtaposition.  But not one without a fundamental cognitive footing.  

For years I had my students create an Autobiography by answering a series of questions about their lives.  The first question was "What is your first memory?"  90% of the time, it was a negative recollection:  A broken bone, a death in the family, an accident, a mistake, a punishment.  This taught me how powerful hurtful things are in determining who we are as adults.  How, when our lives are interrupted by forces beyond our control we remember.  We all remember the storms.

Grandma Moses also recalled the Rainbows...

"A Fire In The Woods," 1947

"The Thunderstorm," 1948

"Taking In The Laundry," 1951

"Windstorm," 1956

"The Rainbow," 1951