Art Eyewitness Review: Edward Hopper’s New York at the Whitney Museum

 

Edward Hopper’s New York 

 Whitney Museum of American Art

October 19, 2022 – March 5, 2023 

Reviewed by Ed Voves

Original Photography by Anne Lloyd

Robert Henri (1865-1929), the dean of the Ashcan School, was a fount of encouragement to his many students at the New York School of Design.

"Paint what you feel. Paint what you see. Paint what is real to you." 

Henri's  lecture points were enthusiastically received by the likes of George Bellows, Stuart Davis, Rockwell Kent and Man Ray. Some students require additional encouragement, however, and Henri offered a well-intended suggestion to an intense, buttoned-down young man from Nyack, New York.

"Go to the theater," Henri advised Edward Hopper.

If Henri thought that Hopper would engage with the rough and tumble of life after watching it on the stage, he was mistaken. Hopper certainly took Henri's advice about going to the theater. But he remained a distant observer, focusing on ironic details of human existence which other painters scarcely noticed. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022)

 Edward Hopper's Two on the Aisle, 1927

Sitting in the mezzanine or the balcony - as he usually did - Hopper might well have condemned himself to the status of a minor genre artist. Instead, as a fabulous exhibition at the Whitney Museum of American Art testifies, Hopper chose as his favored subject one of the greatest themes in American culture: life in New York City.

Edward Hopper’s New York is an exhibition which only the Whitney could have mounted. After Hopper died in 1967, his widow Josephine bequeathed a vast number of sketches, prints and paintings to the Whitney. More recently, a trove of Hopper's notebooks, ledgers, letters, newspaper clippings and, incredibly, theater ticket stubs have entered the Whitney's archival collection.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

Gallery view of Edward Hopper's New York,

 showing a selection of Hopper’s ticket stubs

Over the years, the Whitney has organized numerous exhibitions of Hopper's work, more than justifying Josephine Hopper's choice of that museum to be the steward of her husband's art. Now relocated from its former "Museum Mile" site to Gansevort Street in the Meat Packing district, the Whitney's new location is much more in keeping with the ambiance of New York City as Hopper knew it. An added bonus is the spectacular view from the terrace of the Whitney's restaurant of the Hudson River and New York harbor with Lady Liberty holding her torch aloft. I think even Hopper would have been impressed.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022)

 View of the Hudson River & New York Harbor

 from the Whitney Museum of American Art 

Hopper was much more than a New York City artist, of course. After leaving the exhibit, a visitor to the Whitney has only to take the elevator up a floor to explore the museum's permanent collection. Here one can see Hopper paintings dealing with his Paris years, his summers in New England and travels around the U.S. 

New York was the city which Hopper knew best and, in his unsentimental way, loved. It was the center of his artistic universe. Yet, it only became so by a process of patient adaptation to the many moods of the Big City.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

Detail of Edward Hopper's Blackwell's Island, 1911

In his earliest days as an art student and working illustrator, Hopper commuted to New York from Nyack. He traveled by train, ferry and elevated transit lines. It was a daily grind but it provided him with long intervals to study the real New York: gritty, crowded, hard-edged, care-worn - and proud.

Edward Hopper, Approaching a City, 1946

The Whitney exhibit recalls the the young Hopper's experience of arriving in an urban environment which was ever in flux. Hopper's 1946 masterpiece, Approaching a City, is juxtaposed with a video of a 1916 silent film, New York City (From an Elevated Railroad). 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

Gallery view of Edward Hopper's New York,

 showing the 1916 film, New York City (From an Elevated Railroad)

Both the painting and the film show entirely man-made environments. Neither reveal any outward sign of human life. It was Hopper's task to supply the people and, at first, he demonstrated outstanding talent in portraying the people on New York's streets. 

Mounted Cop, executed in pen and ink and graphite pencil on paper, is a marvelous  work. It is a true portrait without a hint of caricature. Every aspect of this remarkable drawing speaks to having been sketched - at least in its first stage - from life.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

Edward Hopper's Mounted Cop, 1899–1906

 Determined, if disgruntled, the police officer casts a wary eye, peering out from under the peak of his cap. He sits astride his horse, brilliantly suggested by the merest outline of its flanks. A few, slanting lines capture the effect of the pelting rain which, sooner or later, will seep though his poncho.

Numerous examples of Hopper's skill in depicting New Yorkers, native and newcomers, are on view in the opening galleries of the exhibit.

 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022)

  Edward Hopper's New York and Its Houses, 1906-1910

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022)

 Detail of Edward Hopper's The Balcony, 1928

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022)

 Detail of Edward Hopper's In a Restaurant, c. 1916–1925

These include an elderly chap battling a headwind as he trudges up the steps of a brownstone, playgoers absorbed in one of the dramas Hopper attended and a "slice-of-life" scene of two "gents" sealing a deal over a coffee and brandy.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022)

  Edward Hopper's Self-Portrait, 1903-1906

Hopper's early self-portrait, dating to some point during the years 1903-06, likewise, demonstrates a high level of accomplishment. A skillful handling of skin tones and unblinking insight into his own rather forbidding persona shows that Hopper could have secured a place near the top rank of American portrait painters, had he wanted to take that career path.

Hopper's choice lay elsewhere, as we know. But one of the many strengths of the Whitney exhibit is the way that it allows us to follow Hopper's dwindling interest in the unique likenesses of the people around him. Following this, we are enabled to trace his deepening engagement with the human dilemma on a wider, more cosmic level.

Hopper's initial steps in that direction began when he devoted himself to etching around 1915. His sensational skill in printmaking resulted in such masterpieces as the haunting Night Shadows created in 1921. The 1920's and 1930's would prove to be the golden age of American printmaking, with Hopper setting a standard of excellence which others, notably Louis Lozowick and Martin Lewis, would rival but not surpass.

Edward Hopper, Night Shadows, 1921

These brilliant etchings are also significant in showing the path which Hopper's oil painting was taking him, deeper and deeper into uncharted realms of emotional isolation and unspoken desire.

The 1920's were the brash years of American exuberance. Hopper, however, caught a counter-veiling note to the Jazz Age. In Automat, the frantic pace and chronic loneliness of life in the 20th century is indelibly expressed.  Hopper definitively portrays the modern condition where individualism translates into being "a face in the crowd."

Edward Hopper, Automat, 1927

Automat was painted in 1927, the year of Charles Lindbergh's one-man flight across the Atlantic Ocean. While newspaper headlines exulted over the Lone Eagle's heroics, this stylish young "flapper" looks less-than-pleased about "flying solo" through life.

Some clues to her discontent are obvious, the empty chair, the receding  reflections of the overhead lights. But the most telling detail is the fact that she has removed only one glove. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022)

 Detail of Edward Hopper's Automat, 1927

In modern day America, you can get a cup of coffee anytime your want. But don't bother to take both gloves off. Drink-up and keep moving. There is no place of rest on the daily treadmill of existence.

Hopper's switch from magazine illustration to painting was well-timed. As the 1920's progressed, photography increasingly gained the upper-hand in the publishing world and commercial opportunities for artists began to decline. 

By the late 1920's, Hopper's emphasis on realism and figurative painting had secured the interest of wealthy patrons like Stephen Clark. A signal event was the donation by Clark in 1930 of Hopper's House by the Railroad to the permanent collection of the Museum of Modern Art, which had opened its doors the year before.

The House by the Railroad (which reputedly served as the model for the Bates Hotel in the Hitchcock film, Psycho) is not included in the Whitney exhibition. But another mysterious dwelling is prominently displayed, House at Dusk (1935), from the collection of the Virginia Museum of Art. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022)

 Detail of Edward Hopper's House at Dusk, 1935

I had never previously seen House at Dusk and was really intrigued by this haunting work of art. Hopper contrasted the setting sun with the lights shinning forth from some of the apartment windows, while others remained darkened or dimly lit. A pavement stairway extends off into the menacing darkness of the nearby park. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022)

Detail of Edward Hopper's House at Dusk, 1935

With these brilliant effects, Hopper created a setting that is both reassuring - the beckoning glow of house lights - and unsettling.

House at Dusk evidently struck a chord with the visitors to the exhibit. There always seemed to be a big crowd in front of it. At one point, a father was showing the painting to his toddler in the stroller. I was both charmed and bemused. How do you explain a picture of mystery to a child - or to anyone? 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

Gallery view of Edward Hopper's New York, 

showing House at Dusk, 1935 

Every person will have there on theories about a Hopper painting. That explains his continuing popularity. Which brings up another salient point about the Whitney's exhibition. Edward Hopper’s New York was mobbed on the day Anne and I visited. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

Gallery view of Edward Hopper's New York at the Whitney Museum 

Hopper's works clearly strike a chord with museum visitors. Part of the reason is that Hopper composed many of his paintings with a stage-like setting. Works like Automat and others which followed during the 1930's might well have illustrating scenes from a play by Eugene O'Neil. Hopper's visual narrative, however, is never resolved. It's left for you, the viewer, to decide the plot and outcome of the drama of paintings like Room in New York.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022)

 Edward Hopper's Room in New York, 1932

In what may be his greatest painting, New York Movie, Hopper focused his probing vision on to the motion picture industry. Here, during the 1930's, happy endings were the order of the day. Maybe on the "silver screen", but not for Hopper.

New York Movie was painted in 1939, the peak year of America cinema. Hopper based the setting of the theater on a series of meticulous studies of several Manhattan movie "palaces." Hopper also carefully studied the patrons staring at the black-and-white film. These preparatory works are on view in the exhibition, along with the masterpiece itself, from the MOMA collection.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022)

 Detail of Edward Hopper's New York Movie, 1939

The "star" of New York Movie is, of course, the youthful usherette, standing in listless isolation. She is having a "Hamlet moment." Instead of looking at the film, she is lost in melancholy. It is surely one of Hopper's ironic - almost perverse - touches that the young woman has movie star looks. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022)

 Study for Edward Hopper's New York Movie, 1939

As with the other elements in this painting, Hopper carefully sketched the facial features of the usherette. This represented a change of approach from his usual handling of the people in his pictures. Increasingly, as noted above, Hopper devoted less-and-less effort to the faces and figures of his protagonists. The human dilemma was what mattered, individual human beings not so much.

This trade-off resulted in Hopper's tremendous visual statement on life and  society in modern America. But there was a price to be paid for Hopper's choice and it came due in two ways.

The first was exacted in the strained, ultimately tragic, nature of his marriage.  This is not the place to go into great detail about the relationship of Edward and Josephine Hopper. A recent book which I intend to review in coming weeks, Last Light by Richard Lacayo, treats this topic in great detail and I will discuss it there.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022)

 Edward Hopper's Intermission, 1963

For the present, it is enough to note that though Hopper used his wife repeatedly for a model, he never painted a full, "human-scale" portrait of her. Repeatedly, Jo Hopper shows-up, as in the lonely theater-goer in Intermission, as a stock character, never herself.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022)

 Detail of Edward Hopper's Intermission, 1963

This failure on Hopper's part to acknowledge his wife was part of the greater trend in his art. As the years passed, individuals, with all their quirks and eccentricities, were erased from his paintings. As a result, part of Hopper's own individuality withered and his art suffered too.

It is only in the early galleries of the wonderful Whitney exhibition, Edward Hopper's New York, that we see Edward Hopper "New Yorkers." After that, there are plenty of paintings of rooftops but no more rain-spattered cops, no more wind-blown, top-hatted gents, no more soulful flappers. It was a great loss to American art.

When Robert Henri advised Hopper to open his heart to humanity by going to the theater, Hopper should have bought himself a front-row seat, instead of watching from the balcony.

***

Text: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved. Original Photos: Anne Lloyd, All rights reserved 

Images of Edward Hopper's paintings, drawings and prints from the Whitney Museum of American Art and other U.S. museums are © 2022 Heirs of Josephine N. Hopper/Licensed by Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York                                                                                                                              

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Edward Hopper's Self-Portrait, 1925–30. Oil on canvas: 25 3/8 × 20 3/8 in. (64.5 × 51.8 cm). Whitney Museum of American Art,New York; Josephine N. Hopper Bequest 70.1165.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Edward Hopper's Two on the Aisle, 1927. Oil on canvas: 40 1/8 x 48 1/4 in. (101.9 x 122.5 cm). Toledo Museum of Art, OH; purchased with funds from the Libbey Endowment; gift of Edward Drummond Libbey

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Gallery view of Edward Hopper's New York, showing a selection of Hopper’s ticket stubs. The Sanborn Hopper Archive at the Whitney Museum of American Art, Frances Mulhall Achilles Library and Archives, New York; gift of the Arthayer R. Sanborn Hopper Collection Trust 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) View of the Hudson River and New York Harbor from the Whitney Museum of American Art.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Detail of Edward Hopper's Blackwell's Island, 1911. Oil on canvas, 24 3/8 × 29 5/16 in. (61.9 × 74.5 cm). Whitney Museum of American Art, New York; Josephine N. Hopper Bequest 70.1188

Edward Hopper (American, 1882-1967) Approaching a City, 1946. Oil on canvas: 27 1/18 x 36 in. (68.9 x 91.4 cm) The Phillips Collection, Washington, DC; acquired 1947. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Gallery view of Edward Hopper's New York, showing the silent film, New York City (From an Elevated Railroad), c. 1916, 4:37 min. National Archives and Records Administration, Washington D.C.; Ford Motor Company Collection

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Edward Hopper's Mounted Cop, 1899–1906. Pen & ink and graphite pencil on paper: 10 5/8 x 8 5/16 in. (27 x 21.1 cm) Whitney Museum of American Art, New York; Josephine N. Hopper Bequest 70.630 a-b

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Edward Hopper's New York and Its Houses, c.1906–10. Brush and ink, transparent and opaque watercolor, and graphite pencil on paper: 21 13/16 x 14 13/16 in. (55.4 x 37.6 cm)  Whitney Museum of American Art, New York; Josephine N. Hopper Bequest 70.1347

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Detail of Edward Hopper's The Balcony, 1928. Drypoint:Sheet: 13 x 16 15/16 in. (33 x 43 cm); Whitney Museum of American Art, New York; Josephine N. Hopper Bequest 70.1058 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Detail of Edward Hopper's In a Restaurant, c. 1916–25. Charcoal on paper: 26 11/16 x 21 5/8 in. (67.8 x 54.9 cm) Whitney Museum of American Art, New York; Josephine N. Hopper Bequest 70.1449 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Edward Hopper's Self-Portrait, 1903-06. Oil on canvas: 25 15/16 x 22 1/8 in. (65.9 x 56.2 cm) Whitney Museum of American Art, New York; Josephine N. Hopper Bequest 70.1253 

Edward Hopper (American, 1882-1967) Night Shadows, 1921. Etching: Sheet: 12 x 15 15/16 in. (30.5 x 40.5 cm. Whitney Museum of American Art, New York; Josephine N. Hopper Bequest 70.1047

Edward Hopper (American, 1882-1967) Automat, 1927. Oil on canvas, 28 1/8 × 35 in. (71.4 × 88.9 cm). Des Moines Art Center, Des Moines, Iowa; purchased with funds from the Edmundson Art Foundation, Inc. © 2022 Heirs of Josephine N. Hopper/Licensed by Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York. Photograph by Rich Sanders, Des Moines, Iowa

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Detail of Edward Hopper's Automat, 1927. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Details of Edward Hopper's House at Dusk, 1935. Oil on canvas: 36 1/4 x 50 in. (92.1 x 127 cm) Virginia Museum of Fine Arts, Richmond; John Barton Payne Fund 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Gallery view of Edward Hopper's New York, showing House at Dusk. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Gallery view of Edward Hopper's New York at the Whitney Museum of American Art.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Edward Hopper's Room in New York, 1932. Oil on canvas, 29 × 36 in. (73.7 × 91.4 cm). Sheldon Museum of Art, University of Nebraska—Lincoln; Anna R. and Frank M. Hall Charitable Trust.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Detail of Edward Hopper's New York Movie, 1939. Oil on canvas: 32 1/4 x 40 1/8 in. (81.9 x 101.9 cm) The Museum of Modern Art, New York; given anonymously 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Edward Hopper's Study for New York Movie, 1939. Fabricated chalk and charcoal on paper:15 x 11 1/8in. (38.1 x 28.3 cm) Whitney Museum of American Art, New York; Josephine N. Hopper Bequest 70.455

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Edward Hopper's Intermission, 1963. Oil on canvas: 40 x 60 in. (101.6 cm x 152.4 cm) San Francisco Museum of Modern Art; purchase in memory of Elaine McKeon,with funds provided in part by the Fisher and Schwab Families, and an anonymous donor.

Art Eyewitness Review: Americans in Spain, Painting and Travel, 1820-1920

 

Americans in Spain, Painting and Travel, 1820-1920

Chrysler Museum of Art, Feb. 12-May 16, 2021

Milwaukee Art Museum, June 11-Oct. 3, 2021

Reviewed by Ed Voves

In the late autumn of 1869, Thomas Eakins entered into the final stages of his four years of artistic study in France. Although it had been a productive apprenticeship, Eakins felt he needed something more to set the seal of complete success on his endeavor. Eakins planned a trip to one of the other European countries where he could examine the works of "Old Masters" he had not been able to study at the Louvre.

Eakins selected a surprising destination for his farewell tour of Europe - not Italy or the Netherlands nor Austria-Hungary or Great Britain. On November 29, 1869, Eakins boarded a south-bound train for Spain. 

Eakins' sojourn in Spain began a trend among aspiring American painters during the latter decades of the nineteenth century and the early twentieth. Now, an ambitious exhibition, jointly organized by Corey Piper, curator of the Chrysler Museum of Art in Norfolk, Virginia, and Brandon Ruud of the Milwaukee Art Museum, follows the footsteps of Eakins, Mary Cassatt, William Merritt Chase, Robert Henri, John Singer Sargent and Childe Hassam.

Gallery view of Americans in Spain, Painting and Travel, 1820-1920             at the Chrysler Museum of Art. Photo by Ed Pollard

Spain, as we will discuss, was not an easy country to visit during the 1800's. During the crucial, final year of its preparation, Americans in Spain, Painting and Travel, 1820-1920, often faced daunting obstacles as well.The outbreak of Covid-19, just as the curators of the two museums were finalizing plans to gather the 100 works of art and historical artifacts for display, put the experiences of these nineteenth century American artists in a novel, startling perspective.

Difficulty, tinged by a certain degree of danger (mostly imaginary), imparted a sense of adventure to journeys to Spain during the 1800's. For artists like Eakins, the great traditions of Spanish painting were the primary inducement to venture south from France. The astonishing realism of Velazquez and the ethereal spirituality of Murillo exposed American painters to new dimensions in art which were often lacking in the ateliers of Paris. 

Only few days after arriving in Spain, Eakins explained to his father in Philadelphia the nature of his revelatory experience in his new surroundings:

Since I am now here in Madrid I do not regret at all my coming. I have seen big painting here. When I had looked at all the paintings by all the masters I had known I could not help saying to myself all the time, its very pretty but its not all yet. It ought to be better, but now I have seen what I always thought ought to have been done and what did not seem to me impossible. O what a satisfaction it gave me to see the good Spanish work so good so strong so reasonable so free from every affectation. It stands out like nature itself.

Eakins, after studying major works by Velazquez at the Prado, quickly adapted to the influence of the Spanish Baroque master, notably his concentration on character, accentuated by dark, neutral tones in the background.

 

Thomas Eakins, James Carroll Beckwith (detail), 1904

This shift in technique is readily apparent in Eakins' portrait of fellow artist, James Beckwith, on view in the exhibition. Created in 1904, this masterful work shows how the lessons of Velazquez had been integrated into Eakin's methodology, shaping, yet not determining, his own mature style.

What Eakin's achieved, his fellow-countrymen aimed to rival. Yet, it was not artists alone who ventured to Spain from the United States. Americans of diverse backgrounds traveled to Spain intent on savoring that nation's reputation for romance, for social customs little affected by industrialism. Spain's rugged landscape was dotted by castles and, yes, windmills. Spanish towns and cities, especially Toledo and Seville, retained much of their medieval character into the twentieth century

These picturesque aspects of nineteenth century Spain came at a price - paid by the Spanish people. The staggering cost in human lives during the heroic war against the Napoleonic invasion, 1808-1814 was followed by a political betrayal of the very people of Spain who had resisted the French. Goya's unforgettable paintings and prints record this tragic conflict as no other works of art were to do of war before photography. 

William Merritt Chase, Spanish Peasant, 1881

Engraved by Frederick Juengling, 1883

The continuing harshness of daily life in Spain, the social and economic malaise which lingered for decades, can be seen in the face of the Spanish peasant, originally drawn by William Merritt Chase in 1881 and then engraved by Frederick Juengling two years later.

American ideas about Spain were initially shaped by a great writer, rather than an artist. The exhibition begins with artifacts related to Washington Irving's 1826 sojourn in Spain. Irving had been wandering around Europe, searching for inspiration, when an invitation reached him from Alexander Everett, the American Minister to Spain. Irving stayed three years, during which he visited - and for a time actually lived in - the famous Moorish palace, the Alhambra. Irving's romantic re-imaging of Spanish history, Tales of the Alhambra, was a huge hit with audiences in England and the United States.

Irving was a close friend of the Scottish painter, David Wilkie (1785-1841). Overshadowed today by J.M.W.Turner and John Constable, Wilkie was very popular during his day, especially for genre depictions of daily life. He painted a charming scene of Irving, immersed in a mighty tome in the Archives of Seville, the resulting information later to appear in his biography of Christopher Columbus. 

David Wilkie, Washington Irving in the Archives of Seville, 1828-29

For the purpose of the present exhibition, it is important to note that Wilkie's evocations of Spain were made into lithographs, appearing in Sir David Wilkie's Sketches, Spanish and Oriental, published in 1846.

 

   Joseph Nash, Lithographer 

                 Washington Irving Examining the Spanish Records                   in Sir David Wilkie's Sketches, Spanish and Oriental,1846

Lithographs, aimed at a mass audience, later followed by photographs as book illustrations, helped whet the appetite for paintings of Spain and all things Spanish. Also important were spectacular landscape paintings of Spain, part of the mid-nineteenth century mania for "sublime" views of the world. Gibraltar from Neutral Ground by Samuel Coleman (1832-1920) was aimed at an American audience reeling from the horror of the Civil War years.

Samuel Colman, Gibraltar from Neutral Ground, 1863-1866

Such works were the foundation for Eakins and those who followed him to Spain, hoping to gain experience and insights that would help launch their professional careers.

Eakins had just returned home when another intrepid Pennsylvania artist made her way to Spain. Mary Stevenson Cassatt's portraits and genre scenes of Spain are very different from her later Impressionist work. But the marks of budding genius are apparent. Cassatt's handling of lace, gold braid, pleated shirts and other details of texture almost obscure the human drama in Offering the Panal to the Bullfighter (1873). Almost, but not quite.

Mary Cassatt, Offering the Panal to the Bullfighter, 1873  

The panal is a honey comb dipped in a glass of water which is given to matadors before they pit their lives against their fearsome, horned, adversaries. The pro-offered drink and the fantastic regalia, however, are really secondary considerations in this remarkable painting. Cassatt has captured the human chemistry in the exchange, the machismo of the bull fighter and the coy sensuality of the young woman with brilliant effect.

Cassatt's achievement with Offering the Panel was not a matter of beginner's luck. This is confirmed by the discovery of a forgotten work which she executed during her time in Spain. Cassatt's  Spanish Girl Leaning on a Window Sill recently came to light in a private collection in Madrid, thanks to a Canadian art scholar, Betsy Boone. The exhibition in Norfolk and Milwaukee marks the first time that Cassatt's Spanish Girl appears in the United States.

Cassatt captured the passion and allure of the Spanish national character. Attempts by other American artists to dress family members or models in Spanish garb failed to achieve a similar effect. One American artist who did succeed evoking the Spanish identy, with its exotic "otherness" so different from the French, was Robert Henri (1865-1929).

Henri grew up in the American West when it was still open frontier. He nurtured a deep love of Spain that surely can be explained - at least in part - by the epic grandeur of the landscape of both countries. Likewise, the proud, touchy and mercurial nature of the Spanish found a kindred spirit in Americans from the "Wild" West, including Henri's own family. Henri's farther shot and killed a rival rancher in a classic range dispute over grazing rights!

Henri, famed for his Ashcan School urban realism, never tired of Spain. He visited Spain seven times between 1900 and 1926, on several occasions, leading a large group of his students on extended visits to Madrid, where he introduced them to the riches of the Prado.

Two of greatest works of Henri's Spanish oeuvre, Blind Singers (1912) and Betalo Rubino, Dramatic Dancer (1916) are on display. They are among the "show stoppers" in an exhibition rich in masterpieces and richer still in insight.

Robert Henri, Blind Singers, 1912

Robert Henri, Betalo Rubino, Dramatic Dancer (1916) 

These magnificent paintings by Henri and their counterparts by Cassatt, Chase and the other Americans in Spain succeeded because their true subject was the soul of Spain and of the Spanish people. However much these great artists approached Spanish themes in terms of stereotypes - bullfighters, flamenco dancers, humble water carriers with their burros - they ultimately found their way to depict individuals rather archetypes. 

What Henri wrote about Velazquez was true of himself, of Eakins, of Cassatt and the rest. 

I saw the Velazquez pictures. I was in the Gallery for hours, and then wandered the streets thinking much to the glory of Velazquez. His paintings were clear of all the tricks of the art of the Salons ... simple and direct about men rather than the incidents surrounding them. To me they were great compositions.  Each head or figure seemed to tell all the tragedy or comedy possible to man.

***

Text: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved                                             Americans in Spain exhibition images courtesy of the Chrysler Museum of Art, Norfolk, Virginia, and the Milwaukee Art Museum.

Introductory Image:  Mary Cassatt, Spanish Girl Leaning on a Window Sill, ca. 1872. Oil on camvas: 24 3/8 in. (61.9 x 38.26 cm) Collection of  Manuel Piñanes  García-Olías, Madrid, Spain.

Gallery view of Americans in Spain, Painting and Travel, 1820-1920 at the Chrysler Museum of Art, Norfolk, Virginia. Photo by Ed Pollard.

Thomas Eakins (American, 1844-1917) James Carroll Beckwith, 1904. Oil on canvas: 83 3/8 x 48 1/8 inches. (211.77 x 122.24 cm) San Diego Museum of Art, gift of Mrs. Thomas Eakins, # 1937.30.

William Merritt Chase (American, 1849-1916) Spanish Peasant, 1881. Engraved by Frederick Juengling, 1883. From George Parsons Lathrop's Spanish Vistas. New York: Harper and Brothers. Wood engraving: 9  x 6 9/16 inches. (22.86 x 16.67 cm) Private Collection.

David Wilkie (Scottish, 1785-1841) Washington Irving in the Archives of Seville, 1828-29. Oil on canvas: 48 1/4 x 48 1/4 inches. (122.6  x 122.6 cm) New Walk Museum and Art Gallery, Leiscester (UK), purchased from Thomas McLean, 1890. L.F2.1890.0.0

Joseph Nash (British, 1808–1878), after David Wilkie. Washington Irving Examining the Spanish Records, from David Wilkie Sketches, Spanish & Oriental, 1846. Lithograph: 17 3/4 × 11 3/4 in. (45.09 × 29.85 cm).  Milwaukee Art Museum # M2019.106.1 Photo by John R. Glembin.

Samuel Colman (American, 1832-1920) Gibraltar from the Neutral Ground, ca.1863-66. Oil on canvas: 26 1/8 x 36 5/16 inches. (66.4 x 92.2 cm) Wadsworth Atheneum Museum of Art, Hartford, CT. Gallery Fund, 1901.35

Mary Cassatt (American, 1844-1926) Offering the Panal to the Bullfighter,1873. Oil on canvas: 39 5/8 x 33 1/2 inches. (100.6 x 85.1 cm) Sterling and Francine Clark Art Institute, acquired by Sterling and Francine Clark, 1947. #1955.1 

Robert Henri (1865-1929) Blind Singers, 1912. Oil on canvas: 33 1/4  x 41 1/4 inches. (84.45 x 104.6 cm) Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden, Smithsonian Institution. Gift of the Joseph H. Hirshhorn Foundation, 1966. #66.2434.

Robert Henri (1865-1929) Betalo Rubino, Dramatic Dancer (1916). Oil on canvas: 77 1/4  x 37 1/4 inches. (196.2 x 94.6 cm) St. Louis Art Museum. Museum Purchase. 841:1920