Showing posts with label Edwin Austin Abbey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Edwin Austin Abbey. Show all posts

Saturday, September 24, 2022

Art Eyewitness Essay: The Dream Garden of Maxfield Parrish & Louis Comfort Tiffany

 

Art Eyewitness Essay:
The Dream Garden of Maxfield Parrish & Louis Tiffany

Essay Text by Ed Voves
Original Photos by Anne Lloyd

It was a perfect September day. Golden sunshine, bright blue sky, temperature in the high 70's, low humidity. "Camelot" weather, where "it never rains until after sundown." More to the point, since I live in Philadelphia, it was a "Dream Garden" kind of day. 

On this delightful day, my wife, Anne, and I visited The Dream Garden, a magnificent mosaic located in the historic "Old City" section of Philly. Created over a century ago by Maxfield Parrish and Louis Comfort Tiffany, it is one of the greatest mosaics in the world and it is right here, in Philadelphia.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 
The Curtis Center lobby, showing The Dream Garden.

It is always a sunny day in Philadelphia's Dream Garden. But the dramatic story of the creation of this vision of earthly paradise has plenty of stormy weather.

Cyrus Curtis, who founded the Curtis Publishing Company in 1891, desired a grand work of art for the lobby of his new office building, opened in 1910. The Curtis Building, now Curtis Center, is located at 601-645 Walnut Street, Philadelphia, across the street from the park behind Independence Hall.

 


Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 
Exterior view of the Curtis Center, Philadelphia PA

The Curtis Building served as the headquarters of one of America's great media empires. Cyrus Curtis and his talented son-in-law, Edward W. Bok, guided their flagship magazines, The Saturday Evening Post and Ladies Home Journal, to readership in the millions and immense profits.

Curtis and Bok wanted a work of art to match the influence and vision of their publications and they got what they wanted - eventually. 

Edwin Austin Abbey (1852-1911) was commissioned to create an appealing, accessible work of art, suited to the taste of the readers of the Curtis publications. A Philadelphia-born painter with an international reputation, Abbey was a member of the Royal Academy in London, a rare honor for an American. He had played an important role in the American watercolor renaissance following the Civil War and was an accomplished mural painter. 

For the Curtis Building, Abbey planned a painting in the spirit of Raphael's School of Athens. The mural would depict Plato and his disciples engaged in discussion in the Grove of Academe.

Abbey set to work on the preparatory sketches. And then, suddenly, in August 1911, he died.

Abbey's death was a heavy blow but this moment of adversity also brought Edward W. Bok, Vice President of Curtis, to the center stage of the saga of The Dream Garden. Three dynamic men of genius would play leading roles in the creation of this masterpiece, with Bok as a Lorenzo the Magnificent-style patron. 



Edward W. Bok

Edward Bok (1863-1930) was a leading proponent of the Art and Crafts movement as well as a brilliant editor. Born in Holland, Bok was ambitious and hard-working, courteous and community-conscious. In short, he was well-positioned to find the right artist to create a mural for the lobby of the Curtis Building. 

Following Abbey's death, Bok offered the mural commission to John Singer Sargent, who declined. Howard W. Pyle, America's most renowned illustrator, based in nearby Wilmington, Delaware, was next on Bok's list. Pyle, however, died suddenly in November 1911. 

Over the next two years, a succession of artists were considered and rejected for the mural, including Louis Comfort Tiffany (1848-1933), the leading decorative artist in the U.S.



Louis Comfort Tiffany

Bok esteemed Tiffany's luminous mosaic technique, known as favrile glass, but rejected the designs he submitted. Finally, a French artist, Louis Boutet de Monvel, was selected. Then, on March 16, 1913, Boutet de Monvel died.

The entire project to transform the lobby of the Curtis Building into a showcase of truth and beauty seemed jinxed.

"The hoodoo that is following me in regard to the panels is simply amazing," Bok wrote, "... the moment  I have mural relations with a man he seems to run off the earth."

After Boutet de Monvel's death, Bok turned to the hugely popular artist/illustrator, Maxfield Parrish, for a design which Tiffany and his artisans would translate into mosaic. Parrish, the "master of make-believe" had local Philadelphia roots like Abbey and Pyle. But he was in remarkably good health and would, in fact, live until 1966.

 


Maxfield Parrish

It is odd that Bok waited so long to approach Parrish. He and the artist had worked together on a number of successful projects. Parrish was completing a series of murals for the Ladies' Dining Room at the Curtis Building while Bok searched in vain for an artist for the lobby mural. Moreover, Parrish was a member of Bok's design selection team. 

There is no easy answer to this riddle. But it is revealing that the design Parrish submitted, a three by nine foot panel painting, was not a "grove of Academe" scene. Instead, it portrayed a "dream garden."

Based in part on Parrish's own garden at his home in New Hampshire, the design is radically different from a reworking of Raphael's School of Athens. Except for two small sculptures featuring Commedia dell'Arte masks at the bottom of the design, there is no sign of the hand of man. No Greek-style architecture, no pensive philosophers.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 
Detail of The Dream Garden, showing a Commedia dell'Arte mask

What Parrish's design depicted was an idyllic refuge from the hard-edged industrial world on the streets of modern American cities. 



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 
Gallery view of The Dream Garden at the Curtis Center

Parish offered a beguiling scene to viewers, who could imagine themselves stepping over the lobby threshold into the sylvan setting of The Dream Garden. Bathed in golden light, meditating among the clumps of fragrant flowers and majestic trees, visitors to the Curtis Building would be "at one with nature." 



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 
Detail of The Dream Garden, center-foreground of the mosaic

Bok accepted the design, paying Parrish $2,000 for the picture. Tiffany would receive $40,000 to create the mosaic. Work began in 1914. 

The key to success was matching Tiffany's favrile glass technique to Parrish's radiant color scheme. The favrile glass firing technique, patented by Tiffany in 1894, treats molten glass with metallic oxides which ingrain color throughout the glass, not just on the surface. The signature iridescent quality of Tiffany Glass is the result.




Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 
Detail of The Dream Garden, showing Tiffany mosaic tiles

Rather than continuing with a detailed recapitulation of the production process of The Dream Garden, I will quote from the brilliant - and succinct - summation on the descriptive plaque in the lobby of the Curtis Center.

The mosaic's images are rendered in "favrile" glass, following a complex hand I firing process developed by Tiffany to produce over 100,000 pieces of glass in 260 colors. Most of the glass was set in 24 panels in Tiffany's New York studios. Thirty artisans worked for a year on the mosaic, and the installation of the panels in this location took six months. The finished work was hailed by art critics as "a veritable wonder-piece" at the official unveiling in 1916. The amazing variety of opaque, translucent, and transparent glass, entirely lighted from the lobby achieves perspective effects that have never been duplicated.

The unveiling of The Dream Garden, first in Tiffany's studio in New York and then in Philadelphia, created a sensation. Bok was mightily pleased, as were the throngs of art lovers who visited the previews. 



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 
Detail of The Dream Garden, showing Louis Comfort Tiffany's careful
 translation of Maxfield Parrish's original design into mosaic 

Even art critics approved of The Dream Garden, one going so far as to say, "Mere words are only aggravating in describing this amazing picture."

Maxfield Parrish, however, was not pleased. He flatly refused to attend the opening reception in Philadelphia or to send a conciliatory message.

Parrish's dislike of The Dream Garden mosaic is hard to fathom. He only visited Tiffany's studios on two occasions, at the beginning of the project and once more, as work neared completion. He raised no major criticism at that time. 

Bok lavished praise on Parrish, printing and distributing a handsome color print of the the original painting which Tiffany and his team labored so diligently to translate into mosaic. Except for a remark that the mosaic lacked the "painterliness" of his original design, Parrish retreated into an aggrieved silence.

Unless a stash of recriminatory letters comes to light, it is unlikely that a definitive reason for Parrish's disapproval of The Dream Garden mosaic will be discovered. 

Anne was able to take some superb close-up photos of The Dream Garden mosaic tiles. These enabled me to study images of these bits of favrile glass on the computer screen in a way that I could not by direct examination in the Curtis Center Lobby. Over and over again, I was astonished by the artistry, as well as the technical skill, of Tiffany and his team. 

This mastery is particularly evident in the way that Tiffany and his artisans were able to recreate the orange glow of early morning light bathing the exposed mountain face. Shades of light purple evoke the shadowy recesses, still untouched by the dawn. 

All of this visual magic was achieved with thousands of small pieces of colored glass covering a vast space measuring fifteen by forty-nine feet.  




Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 
Details of The Dream Garden mosaic
showing skillful use of contrasting colors in Tiffany's favrile tiles

As if this was not impressive enough, the very moment of sunrise is articulated by a golden line of light, outlining the summit of a mountain, above and to the left of the scene just described. Dawn awakens the world, not in one blazing moment, but in a gradual process, a sublime transformation which the Tiffany team captured with astonishing skill.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 
Mountain sunrise in The Dream Garden mosaic

As stated in the descriptive lobby plaque (provided by the Pennsylvania Academy of Art) the Tiffany Studio used 260 colors of glass to translate The Dream Garden into mosaic. But this wide array of colors was not sufficient for Tiffany who tasked his artisans to hand-paint some of the glass pieces to better replicate the details of Parrish's design. 



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 
Detail of The Dream Garden mosaic. Painted embellishments by 
Tiffany artisans are visible in the rose petals.

Many of the glass pieces of the mosaic were also backed by gold leaf to enhance a shimmering effect.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 
Many of The Dream Garden mosaic tiles were set in place 
over a gold leaf backing by Tiffany artisans.

Given this exacting effort to to insure fidelity with Parrish's original, the  comment that the mosaic was not "painterly" does seem to be a bit unfair. 

It is important to remember that the original design was Parrish's conception, his "dream." It is intriguing to speculate about the human drama behind The Dream Garden. But a more important point needs to be considered, as well. 



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 
The Curtis Center lobby, showing the installation of The Dream Garden

During the long six-year campaign to mount a major work of art in the lobby of the Curtis Building, a series of seismic shifts, cultural and political, transformed the familiar world of Bok, Tiffany and Parrish.

In 1911, when Abbey died and Bok's quest began in earnest, the social structures of the Edwardian age, with its unquestioning belief in progress and profit, were still in place. Then, in 1913, the Armory Show hit the American art scene like a tornado. The next year, World War I shattered Europe. "Too proud to fight" in 1915 when 128 U.S. citizens drowned in the sinking of the passenger ship Lusitania by a German submarine, many Americans were ready and willing to join in the global bloodbath in 1917.


Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

Seen in retrospect, 1916 was the last year of America's Gilded Age. The Dream Garden, intended to embody precepts of truth and beauty, serves as a poignant memorial to a vanished America where "wars and rumors of wars" were almost always "Over There" or in the past.



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

Melancholy thoughts like this don't last long, when you stand before The Dream Garden. Meditate for a moment or two. Behold the reflection of the glimmering mosaic in the wishing pool, below. Savor the essence of this remarkable work of art, ingrained in thousands of favrile glass tiles, and then that spirit will enter into our hearts, too! 

After we left the Curtis Building, Anne and I walked down Walnut Street past the 18th-style gardens cultivated  for by the Pennsylvania Horticultural Society. 



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022)
Colonial-style gardens at the Independence National Historical Park 

It was a familiar scene for me. Many years ago, I used to work as a volunteer tour guide at the Independence National Historic Park. I have walked past these gardens countless times

On this sunny day in September, however, the neatly-trimmed hedges and shrubs, sited with geometric precision, affected me much differently than they usually do. 



Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 
A Philadelphia "Dream Garden", 2022

Perhaps it was the weather or just my impression, but everywhere I looked I seemed to see a Dream Garden.

***

Maxfield Parrish (American, 1870-1966), designer. The Dream Garden, 1914-15. Constructed by Tiffany Studios, Cortona, New York; installed in the Curtis Center Building, Philadelphia, 1916. Favrile Glass Mosaic:15 x 49 feet (180 x 588 Inches.) Weight: four tons. 

The Dream Garden is part of the Collection of the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts. Partial Bequest of John W. Merriam; partial purchase with funds provided by a grant from the Pew Charitable Trusts; partial gift from Bryn Mawr College, The University of  the Arts, and the Trustees of the University of Pennsylvania. 2001-15.#2001.15

The photo of Maxfield Parrish is from the archives of the National Portrait Gallery, Washington D.C.; the photos of Edward W. Bok and Louis Comfort Tiffany are from the Library of Congress.

Thursday, March 23, 2017

American Watercolor in the Age of Homer and Sargent at Philadelphia Museum of Art




American Watercolor in the Age of Homer and Sargent


Philadelphia Museum of Art
March 1, 2017 - May 14, 2017

Reviewed by Ed Voves

In the world of art, as in the course of everyday life, it is wise to expect the "unexpected." 

The latest blockbluster exhibit at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, American Watercolor in the Age of Homer and Sargent, is a case in point. For once, this is not just the case of using name recognition to "sell" the show. Both Winslow Homer and John Singer Sargent were true masters of watercolor painting. But neither artist played a pioneering role in America's enthusiasm for watercolor painting that began in 1866.

Before the Civil War, watercolor painting in America was deemed to be acceptable only for Sunday-afternoon artists and women. It was hardly  the "stuff" of Yankee manhood or the valor that  won the day at Gettysburg. 

The Union had waged  the Civil War with ruthless determination and technical expertise.  Once the shooting stopped, the expectation was high that these traits would carry over into other aspects of American society. The important role of technology should  have sparked a mania for photography, which had played a big role in the war. Likewise, the intense patriotism should have prompted a wave of battle paintings or works to honor the martyred Abraham Lincoln.

Nothing of the kind happened - at least not in 1866. Instead, a group of little known artists launched what soon became a nation-wide mania  for watercolor painting and collecting.

The founders of the American watercolor revolution were hardly household names - then or now.  Samuel Colman, Gilbert Burling, William Craig and William Hart were certainly proficient artists. The exhibit displays works by all, with the exception of Burling. These painters were heavily indebted to the British watercolor tradition and to the writings of its leading theorist, John Ruskin. What they lacked in the way of originality, these pioneers compensated for with persuasive charm and crusading zeal.




Fidelia Bridges, Milkweeds, 1876

The influence of Ruskin on American watercolor painting is exemplified by the work of Fidelia Bridges, (1834-1923). A New England artist who studied at the Pennsylvania Academy of Art, Bridges painted "truth to nature" watercolors of such outstanding merit that she could not be denied a prominent place in the burgeoning watercolor movement - despite being a woman.

The new popularity of watercolor quickly led to the organization of a professional society. Colman was elected president of the American Watercolor Society in 1866. A year later, the organization mounted a successful show at the National Academy of Design, which became an annual event of great popularity. 


Soon first-rank artists like John LaFarge were answering the call to exhibit at the AWS shows in New York City. Sales revenue - the greatest inducement of all - kept pace with Colman's congenial, alliance-building leadership. 

In 1873, the greatest war artist of the Civil War, Winslow Homer "discovered" watercolor. Only the year before, Homer had painted his hugely popular tribute to American children, Snap the Whip, in oils. Snap the Whip is a nostalgic work of art. Wistful reflection on pre-industrial America was a keynote of many works by AWS painters, too.

This backward-glance is beautifully represented in the Philadelphia Museum exhibit by Edwin Austin Abbey's The Two Sisters. The two protagonists of this astonishing watercolor are dressed in  the early nineteenth century Federal period style. Abbey combined translucent watercolor and opaque gouache to create a work that is suffused with subtle color. 




Edwin Austin Abbey, The Two Sisters, 1882

This vibrant work of art, on special loan from Yale, is so delicate and light-sensitive that it is kept behind a curtain at the exhibit except when being viewed for very short periods by visitors. The damaging effect of light on watercolors can only be thwarted by extreme care. Because of this, opportunity to take gallery photographs was limited at the press preview.

Abbey's effective use of translucent and opaque watercolor was rivaled by another AWS stalwart, Thomas Moran (1837‑1926). Born in England, Moran was a great admirer of J.M.W. Turner, sometime to such a degree that it is difficult to distinguish their works. Moran took a lead from the hardy, well-traveled Turner and brought his watercolor box along  on an expedition to the American West soon after the Civil War. 




Thomas Moran, Big Springs in Yellowstone Park, 1872

In a way, Moran's Big Springs in Yellowstone Park, 1872, recorded a frontier that was fast disappearing, just as Abbey's genteel Federal period had vanished. Moran's depictions of the West, both in watercolor and in oil, played a major role in promoting the idea of National Parks to preserve the natural beauty of America. Moran also pointed the way for Winslow Homer to make his mark in watercolor.

Homer, "the always unexpected Mr. Homer" as a reviewer called him, followed the lead of both Abbey and Moran. He painted both pensive young women and barefoot country boys and the frontier-like conditions of Maine and the Adirondack Mountains in New York. But his style was all his own and it was not long before he was recognized as America's premier painter in watercolor.



Winslow Homer, Building a Smudge, 1891

Not all the reviews of Homer's work were glowing. Homer did not take kindly to negative criticism in the proliferating journals like Scribner's Monthly. Some years, he refused to send any work to the AWS shows. Instead, he would paddle-off into the woods of New York and New England, building a "smudge" to keep the vociferous flies at bay - along with the art critics.

Other years, Homer would seek artistic refuge on the North Sea coast of England, where he painted watercolors of stalwart fisher folk, or go to the tropics where he painted the luminous A Garden in Nassau in 1885 .            



Winslow Homer, A Garden in Nassau, 1885

Homer's facility in every form of watercolor and in every setting was matched by John Singer Sargent. Twenty-years younger than Homer, Sargent joined the exhibiting ranks of the watercolor fellowship somewhat late in his career, though he had always painted privately in the medium. 

Weary of the "grind" of society portrait painting in England, Sargent "went public" in 1904, just a few years before the still vigorous Homer died in 1910. One of Homer's last watercolors, Diamond Shoal, proves that he was still at the top of his form in his last years. 



Winslow Homer, Diamond Shoal, 1905

Had Homer not died in 1910, a "duel" in watercolors with Sargent might well have ensued. The Philadelphia exhibit devotes an entire gallery to a "compare and contrast" examination of the watercolors of Homer and Sargent. It is very intriguing but there is no record that either artist viewed their work in such a competitive spirit. It was much more of a case of "passing the torch" of artistic leadership from one master to another.

Sargent did more than keep the golden age of American watercolor going into the twentieth century. His bold use of translucent watercolor to explore the ever-changing quality of light raised the medium to a new, almost miraculous, height of achievement.




John Singer Sargent, Spanish Fountain, 1912

It is only fitting, when mentioning superlative achievement, to acknowledge the curator of this fabulous exhibit, Kathleen Foster. One of the greatest contemporary authorities on American art, Dr. Foster conceived and organized American Watercolor in the Age of Homer and Sargent. She wrote the text of the exhibit catalog in its entirety, a most impressive achievement. Most exhibit books are written by a team of scholars. 

Dr. Foster's achievement is definitive not merely for the depth of her research but also its wide-ranging field of study. The "Golden Age" of American watercolor embraced the  Aesthetic Movement of the 1870s, design for commercial enterprises like the celebrated Rookwood Pottery, the "house beautiful" ideal and the American mural movement. All of these strands are woven into an exhibit which will not soon be topped for its authoritative scholarship and its sheer, soul-restoring beauty. 

The American watercolor movement coincided with the rise of Impressionism in France. This can create a bit of confusion for non-experts on American art. Several early figures of American watercolor painting were considered "Impressionists" but these artists were influenced by the thriving Munich school of painting rather than by Claude Monet and his confrères. The French Impressionists did not favor watercolor to any significant degree.  




Childe Hassam, Boulevard at Night, Paris, 1889

Eventually Childe Hassam, an American Impressionist and an accomplished watercolor painter, united the two schools of art with outstanding works in watercolor.

American Watercolor in the Age of Homer and Sargent concludes with an insightful look at the science of watercolor.  We are reminded that the achievements of the age of Homer and Sargent were also based upon a material revolution in watercolor, developing from hard brittle cakes to disposable tubes of color. 




Watercolor Box belonging to Winslow Homer, 1900‑1910

John Singer Sargent died in 1925, the end point of this wonderful exhibit. Vast changes were in store for American art in the years following 1925 - and for American society. 

Watercolor, however, has retained its popular appeal with the public and with professional artists alike. Watercolor became an American Art just as Baseball became America's game. Rising from English roots, watercolor was utilized in the post-Civil War years to create a truly national art form. Since then, watercolor has never gone "out-of-style" in America, however much the styles of art change and evolve.

***
Text: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved 

Images Courtesy of the Philadelphia Museum of Art and Yale University Art Gallery, Yale Open Access policy, for Edwin Austin Abbey's The Two Sisters, 1882

Introductory Image: American Watercolor in the Age of Homer and Sargent, 2017 (cover) Image credit: Philadelphia Museum of Art 

Fidelia Bridges (American, 1834‑1923) Milkweeds, 1876. Watercolor on paper, Sheet: 17 1/4 × 13 inches. Munson-Williams-Proctor Arts Institute, Museum of Art, Utica, New York, Proctor Collection

Edwin Austin Abbey (American, 1852–1911) The Two Sisters, 1882. Watercolor and gouache over graphite underdrawing, sight in frame: 59.2 x 89.5 cm (23 5/16 x 35 1/4 in.) Yale University Art Gallery, The Edwin Austin Abbey Memorial Collection. 1946.130

Thomas Moran, (American, born England, 1837-1926) Big Springs in Yellowstone Park, 1872. Watercolor and opaque watercolor on paper, 9 1/4 × 19 1/4 inches. Private Collection

Winslow Homer (American, 1836‑1910) Building a Smudge, 1891. Watercolor over graphite, with scraping, on wove paper, Sheet: 13 3/4 × 20 9/16 inches. Philadelphia Museum of Art, 125th Anniversary Acquisition. Gift of Ann R. Stokes, 2002.

Winslow Homer (American, 1836‑1910) A Garden in Nassau, 1885. Watercolor and opaque watercolor over graphite, with blotting and scraping, on textured cream wove paper, Image: 14 1/2 × 21 inches. Terra Foundation for American Art, Daniel J. Terra Collection.

Winslow Homer (American, 1836‑1910) Diamond Shoal, 1905Watercolor and graphite on paper, Sheet: 14 × 21 7/8 inches. Private Collection.

John Singer Sargent (American, active London, Florence, and Paris, 1856‑1925) Spanish Fountain,1912. Watercolor and graphite on white wove paper, 21 × 13 3/4 inches. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Purchase, Joseph Pulitzer Bequest, 1915.

Childe Hassam (American, 1859‑1935) Boulevard at Night, Paris, 1889. Watercolor on paper, 8 × 12 inches. Private Collection

Watercolor Box belonging to Winslow Homer, 1900‑1910. Manufactured by Winsor & Newton, London, founded 1832. Watercolor pigments and metal, 8 1/8 × 8 1/4 inches. Bowdoin College Museum of Art, Brunswick, Maine, Gift of the Homer Family.