Month: January 2016

Transparent Visions

On By kittycalashIn History, Living History, Philosophy1 Comment

With armloads of cash, the NPYL has, as I’m sure you know, digitized thousands of items which are now available on a ridiculously procrastination-worthy (it’s research, I tell you) site.

Carl H. Pforzheimer Collection of Shelley and His Circle, The New York Public Library. (1795 - 1834). Portrait silhouette.
Carl H. Pforzheimer Collection of Shelley and His Circle, The New York Public Library. (1795 – 1834). Portrait silhouette.

In my current quest for watercolor boxes and miniature inspiration, I found the Anne Wagner album particularly interesting. The pages in the book compile verses, mottoes, collages, locks of hair, and a portrait silhouette. In all likelihood, Anne Wagner had a watercolor box not unlike this one coming up at Sotheby’s on Thursday.

Lot 738, Sotheby's Sale N09466 REGENCY MAHOGANY PAINT BOX BY W. REEVES & WOODYER, FIRST QUARTER 19TH CENTURY
Lot 738, Sotheby’s Sale N09466
REGENCY MAHOGANY PAINT BOX BY W. REEVES & WOODYER, FIRST QUARTER 19TH CENTURY

Every young lady of some means would have had a watercolor box suited to her station (they came in a variety of sizes), and young ladies with leisure time occupied themselves with diaries, commonplace books, amateur silhouettes, and paintings. Diana Sperling is one of the better-known examples of amateur artists, with drawings occasionally appearing at auction. The best of these watercolors give us a literally transparent look at the long 18th century from inside.

May 25th. Henry Van electrifying - Mrs Van, Diana, Harry, Isabella, Mum and HGS. Dynes Hall.
May 25th. Henry Van electrifying – Mrs Van, Diana, Harry, Isabella, Mum and HGS. Dynes Hall.

Museums try to connect the people of the past to the people of the present, and sometimes in focusing on similarities critical differences are missed.

It’s not just that the people of the past accepted racism, slavery, and sexism. They literally saw the world differently. I’ve watched contemporary amateur artists try to recreate the imagery of the past, and it’s hard. I wonder, as I try my own had at the task, if we can manage it. Color sensibilities were different; taste was different (checks from hell, remember?). My own style is more graphic and bold than an 18th or 19th century artists’– more Fairfield Porter than Edward Malbone.

Carl H. Pforzheimer Collection of Shelley and His Circle, The New York Public Library. (1795 - 1834). Threaded shells.
Carl H. Pforzheimer Collection of Shelley and His Circle, The New York Public Library. (1795 – 1834). Threaded shells.

We are, each of us, products of our environment and our time. Can we really recreate the past? We can dress correctly, carry the right stuff (or almost no stuff at all), but how can we overcome our own thought barriers, our own vision? I think it’s by attempting that effort that we can do better at replicating the past whether we try in four dimensions, or in two– and acknowledge the unbridgeable gap to the past.

Objectification

On By kittycalashIn History, Museums, personal, Philosophy, Reenacting3 Comments
Corner chair. Mahogany with fabric-covered slip seat. John Goddard, 1763. RIHS 1990.36.1 RHix5136
Corner chair. Mahogany with fabric-covered slip seat. John Goddard, 1763. RIHS 1990.36.1 RHix5136

I’ve had more alone time than usual at work, which is to say, I’ve been the only living creature in 16,000 SF for multiple consecutive days, which allows me both time to get lots of work done but also permits my mind to wander more than it might otherwise. One of the ideas I continually return to is about the objectification of objects. That’s a terrible phrase, isn’t it? What is the essential thingness of any given thing?

Let’s take chairs: I really like chairs, which is to say that I have, at last, succumbed to the seductive qualities of chairs.[i] But what makes a chair a chair?

Most simply, a chair is to be sat upon. Keeps your rump off the cold, cold ground. Supports your legs and back. Sometimes a chair is for lolling. Sometimes it’s for working. Sometimes it’s for projecting power. But essential, a chair is for sitting.

If use– specifically human use[ii]– is what chairs are for, what happens when a chair is removed from use, and placed on display in a museum?[iii] And what difference does it make whether that chair is on a white plinth in an art museum, or in a historic house, or in the historic house where it was used? When is a chair most a chair, other than the times you are sitting in one?

As I said: a lot of alone time.

servant mannequin in 18th century room
That’s no ghost, that’s my kid. Corner chair just in front of the ghost.

Within a historic house, it seems that the ideal situation is the chair in the room in the house.

That would seem to maximize the “realness” of the thing, right? But we don’t always have the chair, and even when we do, we may not know which room it was used in most often.

The way a chair is displayed and understood in an art museum: Object of Beauty is very different from the way a chair is displayed and understood in a history: Who Sat Here? It’s a conundrum though, because just as the chair become Beautiful Thing in an art museum, it can become Story from the Past in a history museum. Neither presentation/interpretation really gets at Chairness, which is really best experienced by sitting in the chair yourself.

Did I mention I spend a lot of time alone with objects?

Storeroom, Rhode Island Historical Society. RHix17 399
Storeroom, Rhode Island Historical Society. RHix17 399

The way that I think these questions about Chairness relate to living history is by realizing that just as museums fetishize objects on white pedestals, living history interpreters/reenactors sometimes fetishize objects without contextualizing them. You know: Muskets. Clothes. Spinning Wheels.[iv]

Putting the chair in the room where it was used gives it context, and the visitor a new perspective that wouldn’t be gained from a white pedestal, or from the curb. The same is true of the things that we carry as interpreters. Context matters. It’s how meaning is derived and understood. Like repetition, isolation can rob an object—or a person—of meaning. Not that I’m lonely. I have all those chairs, after all.

____________________________

[i] Not to get too weird, though: I won’t rhapsodize (yet) about the sensual curve of a chair leg, or a delicate, finely-turned ankle, as I have heard some (fetishistic?) curators so. Yet: there’s still time.

[ii] Sorry cats: chairs were not actually made for you. Now get down!

[iii] If you know anything about art history and theory, you can probably guess which decade I was in graduate seminars.

[iv] My *favorite* thing to see in a military setting.

Small Obsessions

On By kittycalashIn Uncategorized6 Comments

IMG_5625Some of you may recall that I am a recovering artist with a fairly constant need to keep my hands busy. To encourage industry and the domestic arts, and to keep me out of trouble generally, a thoughtful friend provided me with a start to furnishing an early nineteenth century-style paint box. They’re hard to come by, these paint boxes, and extant examples fetch far more than we can afford chez Calash, being in somewhat reduced circumstances of late.

Thomas Reeves & Son Artists watercolor paint box c. 1784 to 1794. Whimsie Virtual Museum of Watercolor Materials
Thomas Reeves & Son
Artists watercolor paint box c. 1784 to 1794. Whimsie Virtual Museum of Watercolor Materials

Researching paint boxes and miniature painting in the early Federal era has been a happy fall down a deep rabbit hole. It’s clear that Reeves watercolors were being sold in Providence in the early 19th century; Peter Grinnell & Sons include “Reeves watercolor boxes” among the extensive list of items for sale in an 1809 newspaper ad. Frames and cases were also to be had; John Jenckes, gold and silver-smith and jeweler, advertised gold miniature cases in 1800.

Distraction is always easy to come by, tunnels leading from main entrance to the warren. Painting manuals, scholarly articles, and extant examples, which prove most distracting of all. SO shiny.

George Catlin Artist: John Wood Dodge (1807–1893) Date: 1835 Medium: Watercolor on ivory Dimensions: 2 3/16 x 1 13/16 in. (5.6 x 4.6 cm) Classification: Paintings Credit Line: Rogers Fund, 1926 Accession Number: 26.47
George Catlin byJohn Wood Dodge, 1835, MMA 26.47

Searching the Met’s collection, I found a portrait of George Catlin, remarkably similar in pose to an image of a friend I considered copying, but had thought too modern. My assumption has been proved wrong, and I am delighted. And then I found the HIDEOUS checked neck wear, always distracting. Historic New England provided super-tiny-bowtie man, and then I really had to focus, since I’m only enabling, not making, neck wear.

My real focus, of course, is on female miniaturists, especially in Rhode Island (gallery of RI miniatures can be found here.) From the scant number of women I’ve found advertising in the local papers, (okay, two: Miss Mary R. Smith, in 1820, and Mrs Partridge in 1829) I’ll have to expand my search geographically. Nantucket Historical Association had an image attributed to Anna Swain, and ten attributed to Sally Gardner.

Eye

The Met, repository of so many wonders, has works by six women miniaturists, including Sarah “Wowza” Goodridge and Anna Claypoole Peale. For all we know, some of the works by unidentified makers might be the work of female painters. The extant miniatures in all collections, range in quality from excellent to amateur, giving hope to those of us unpracticed in portraiture, and regaining our hand.

High Style/Low Brow

On By kittycalashIn Collecting, History, Research3 Comments

It’s auction season again, the best one of all: the major Americana sales and the Winter Antiques Show in New York. I won’t be at any of the exhibitions or sales, which is just as well for me; my friends know the twitchy “must-touch” finger motion that means I need to leave my wallet and checkbook in wiser, saner hands.

Still, even if we can’t buy, we can learn. This time around, I was delighted by the juxtaposition of two pre-1750 paintings in the Sotheby’s sales.

First, the ever-delightful Robert Feke’s portrait of Mrs Tench Francis.

Robert Feke (1707 - 1752) PORTRAIT OF MRS. TENCH FRANCIS In what appears to be the original frame; Bears a label on the back of the frame: Mr. Willing, Bryn Mawr. Painted circa 1746. Label on the back of the stretcher: Philadelphia Museum of Art, Robert Feke, Portrait of Mrs. Tench Francis, 11-1969-2. Lender: Mr. E. Shippen Willing, Jr. Oil on canvas 36 by 28 1/2 in. Sotheby's Sale N09456 Lot 1595
Robert Feke (1707 – 1752)
PORTRAIT OF MRS. TENCH FRANCIS
In what appears to be the original frame; Bears a label on the back of the frame: Mr. Willing, Bryn Mawr.
Painted circa 1746.
Label on the back of the stretcher: Philadelphia Museum of Art, Robert Feke, Portrait of Mrs. Tench Francis, 11-1969-2. Lender: Mr. E. Shippen Willing, Jr.
Oil on canvas
36 by 28 1/2 in.
Sotheby’s Sale N09456 Lot 1595

Francis. Shippen. Willing. This thing is DEEP in the history of Philadelphia, and by my fave 18th century RI painter.

But does she Remind you of anyone? Like a Smibert, maybe? Or perhaps it’s a Copley?

Mrs Samuel Browne by Smibert, RIHS 1891.2.2
Mrs Joseph Mann by Copley, MFA Boston, 43.1353

It was a THING, that blue silk gown business with a red silk wrapper. Better yet? This one:

Attributed to J. Cooper 1685 - 1754 WOMAN WITH YOUNG BOY Appears to retains its original frame attributed to J. Cooper. oil on canvas 30 in. by 25 in. CIRCA 1715. Sotheby's Sale N09466, Lot 398
Attributed to J. Cooper 1685 – 1754
WOMAN WITH YOUNG BOY
Appears to retains its original frame attributed to J. Cooper.
oil on canvas
30 in. by 25 in.
CIRCA 1715. Sotheby’s Sale N09466, Lot 398

What I love about the J. Cooper is how crude it is: that painting looks more like a woolwork picture than a painting. But that vernacular adaptation tells us how prevalent this portrait style was, and how desirable.