Augustus Saint-Gaudens: Background

"My father's full name was Bernard Paul Ernest Saint-Gaudens. 'Bernard Paul Honeste, if you please,' he called it later in life. It sounded nicer. He was born in the little village of Aspet, five miles south of the town of Saint-Gaudens, in the arrondissement of Saint-Gaudens, in the department of the Haute-Garonne, a most beautiful country. He learned his trade of shoemaker in the employment of his elder brother who had quite a large establishment of thirty or forty workmen. When through with his apprenticeship, he moved northward from his native village as a journeyman shoemaker, a member of the 'Compagnons du Tour de France,' a popular organization which facilitated the traveling of workmen from town to town, the members being pledged to procure employment for one another as they arrived.  They each had some affectionate sobriquet; my father's was 'Saint-Gaudens la Constance,' of which he was very proud. 

My father passed three years in London, and later, seven years in Dublin, Ireland, where he met my mother in the shoe store for which he made shoes and where she did the binding of slippers. Father told me that an overcrowded passenger list prevented his leaving Dublin with my mother, with me at her breast, in a ship named 'Star of the West' that burned at sea during the trip. 

They landed at Boston town, probably in September, 1848, then found work in New York, where we went to a house on the west side of Forsyth Street, where now is the bronze foundry in which the statue of Peter Cooper that I modeled was cast forty-five years later. And it was there I made the beginnings of my conscious life." 

To be continued

(Excerpts from "The Reminiscences of Augustus Saint-Gaudens" by Augustus Saint-Gaudens and his son Homer Saint-Gaudens.)

Franz Xaver Winterhalter: Faithful 02 03

"Isabella Brandt" by Peter Paul Rubens

"Franz Xaver Winterhalter sought respite from the pressures of a busy portrait practice in holidays abroad, In Italy, Switzerland and above all, in Germany. He remained firmly attached to his native country by past ties and deep family affections. He and his brother Hermann travelled regularly to Karlsruhe, Baden-Baden and the Black Forest. They remained in constant touch with their father, and they continued to support him and their sisters on a generous scale. In the autumn of 1851, for example, Winterhalter sent a remittance of 3,000 francs to his father (5,000 the year before), and 6,000 francs to each sister; to Theresia for the education of her sons; to Justina for a new kitchen at the Adler Inn.

As the Second Empire approached its zenith, Winterhalter's world contracted. The reminiscences of the art critic, Friedrich Pecht, provide an invaluable insight into his life at this time:

'Formerly he had had a small pale head with black hair its chief attraction, now the locks were silver-grey. He had withdrawn from French society and associated almost exclusively with Germans. They formed a small circle round him, which met at his table for the excellent cooking of Mère Morel, to whom he introduced me. I later spent most of my evenings there.

Winterhalter was always high spirited, and when we left the restaurant we went to the Grand Café to enjoy our demi-tasse, after which we would stroll along the boulevards till late at night. He would tell comic stories about his own youth, and his time in Italy, the very last thing he would do would be to boast about his high acquaintances and sitters, as so many others did. His criticisms of works of art were individual, never depreciative.

Though depreciatively nicknamed 'the Frenchman' he remained always a German, for all his love of French manners and Paris. Yes, it was touching to see how he could not suppress his German nature.'

Pecht's impression is confirmed by another contemporary, W. Landgraf:

'I made Winterhalter's personal acquaintance in Paris in 1853. Never did a royal portrait painter correspond less to the conception one has of such a favourite of rulers. He had remained completely simple, natural and without mannerisms, and even retained something of the southern German rural population about him. His lifestyle, his needs were extremely modest. His correspondingly simple studio contained only on ornament, naturally the most exquisite and costly: a wonderful large portrait of a woman (lifesize half-portrait) by P.P. Rubens that probably represents his first wife with a fur wrapper over her shoulders.'" 

To be continued

(Excerpts from the introduction by Richard Ormund, to "Franz Xaver Winterhalter and the Courts of Europe 1830-70.")  

 

Franz Xaver Winterhalter: Retirement 02 04

"

"Olga von Grunelius" by Franz Xaver Winterhalter

"Franx Xaver Winterhalter was in Switzerland taking a cure, when news came of the outbreak of war between France and Prussia, the early disastrous battles, and finally of Napoleon's capitulation at Sedan (2 September 1870). The Second Empire was swept away. Instead of returning to Paris, at the end of the holiday, he and his brother Hermann headed for Karlsruhe instead. The transition was smooth and without trauma, a natural culmination of Winterhalter's growing preference for Germany over France, an enforced early retirement. He was still officially credited to the Baden Court; all the orders and honours he had received had always been formally approved at Karlsruhe before acceptance. He and Hermann fitted back into provincial court life, taking an apartment at no. 4 Friedrichsplatz, the elegant and spacious circle designed by Berckmüller. 'We are quite happy here,' he told a friend, 'though naturally we miss many things.'  

Occasional interruptions to their quiet regime served to remind them of the world of high fashion they had left behind. In 1871, they were guests of the Tsar and Tsarina at Bad Petersthal, a popular spa, with a glittering company of European Royals. Winterhalter's later letters, however, reveal little sign of nostalgia or regret for the past. Workhorse though he was, he seems content to have hung up his brushes and mahl-stick, and to have accepted retirement naturally.

During his last two years of life, Winterhalter found a limited circle of patrons in the banking community of Frankfourt. Among his sitters of this time were Olga von Grunelius and Emma von Passavant."

To be continued

(Excerpts from the introduction by Richard Ormund, to "Franz Xaver Winterhalter and the Courts of Europe 1830-70.")  

 

Franz Xaver Winterhalter: His Death

Franz Winterhalter's Grave, Frankfurt

"During a visit to the Frankfurt in the summer of 1873, Franz Xaver Winterhalter contracted typhus, as a result of an epidemic that eventually claimed sixty lives. The speed with which he succumbed to the disease suggests that years of travel and concentrated work had taken their toll of his health. He was rushed from the house of his banking friends, the von Metzlers, to the Diakonissen Krankenhaus, a hospital run by Protestant nuns, but all efforts to save him were in vain. He died on 8 July 1873. His disconsolate brother, Hermann, sent brief details in a letter to a family member: 

'He had not been feeling well for some time but he didn't go to bed till Friday when he had a burning fever, which brought his life to an end. It is a comfort for me to know that he was unconscious and I think without pain. I ask you to tell all our relatives of this so irreplaceable loss in my name, as I am at present quite unable to do it. I have to stay here to attend the funeral.'

Winterhalter lies buried in the cemetery in Frankfurt under an imposing tomb topped by an angel. Funds for the maintenance of the tomb have long since evaporated and the tomb is now maintained by the city authorities. By the terms of Winterhalter's will, his fortune of 4 million francs was divided equally between his brother and the children of his two sisters. One notable benefaction of 50,000 francs established a foundation for the support of youth of Menzenschwand, his birthplace, and two neighbouring villages 'who wish to learn useful trades, arts and sciences.'

In European capitals the news of his death was greeted with official expressions of regret, as of the passing of a court dignitary rather than a great artist. Obituaries were brief and few. Winterhalter belonged to an age that was rapidly fading from people's memories. The figures of the Second Empire whom he had chronicled had died or disappeared from public gaze. Few of those who had made him famous were there to remember or to mourn him. But the widowed Queen Victoria was one, and she poured out her feelings in a letter to her daughter:

'His death was terrible . . . quite irreparable . . . His works will in time rank with Van Dyck. There was not another portrait painter like him in the world . . . With all his peculiarities I liked him so much.'"

To be continued

(Excerpts from the introduction by Richard Ormund, to "Franz Xaver Winterhalter and the Courts of Europe 1830-70.")  

 

Franz Xaver Winterhalter: Tributes

"Portrait of Grand Duchess Maria Nikolayevna"
by Franz Xaver Winterhalter

"In Karlsruhe, obsequies for Franz Xaver Winterhalter were elaborate and heartfelt. It was from this city that he had set out as an unknown young painter forty years before, and to which he had returned as a European celebrity. His beloved Baden honoured him with an exhibition in October 1873. Exhibits from local collections, those of the Grand Duke of Baden, the Prince of Fürstenberg, the King of Württemberg and various private individuals, were complemented by loans from further afield. Queen Victoria lent four pictures, the early portraits of 1842 of herself and Prince Albert, Duleep Singh, and 'The First of May.' No biographer came forward to chronicle the dead man's achievement. 

In 1894, Winterhalter's nephew Franz Wild published a brief memoir, with an invaluable checklist of portraits, but the artist had to wait a further forty years before a reawakening of interest in the Second Empire brought his work once more to prominence with exhibitions in London and Paris in 1936. His name had become associated with fashionable court portraiture. Little was known about him personally, and his art was not taken seriously. It will be only after a further lapse of time that his style can be set in context, his career documented, and the full range of his achievement fairly judged."

(Excerpts from the introduction by Richard Ormund, to "Franz Xaver Winterhalter and the Courts of Europe 1830-70.")  

 

Abbot Thayer: A Short Visit with the Thayers, Pt. 2

"The Sisters" by Abbott Thayer

"Uncle Abbott was a great talker because he was just bubbling over with ideas all the time, and his talk stimulated ideas in other people. He was the center of attraction for many interesting and unusual people. George De Forest Brush, another well-known painter of that time, was a friend of Uncle Abbott. They had studied in Paris together. The Brushes lived near Dublin, New Hampshire, too, at the time I used to go there. Mr. Brush had six children. Other interesting or famous people I met there were Alan Seeger, a poet; Percy McKaye, writer and playwright; Randolph Bourne, another writer; and Rockwell Kent, painter, writer, architect, carpenter, and fighter for human rights.

For several summers, Mark Twain was in Dublin. I always felt very thrilled that I had met and shaken hands with him. When Mr. James Bryce, the English historian and scholar, was Ambassador to the U.S., the summer Embassy was in Dublin, and Mr. Bryce was a frequent visitor of Uncle Abbott. By that time automobiles were in use and Mr. Bryce rather upset the 'high society' of Dublin by walking everywhere in true English style. There were a couple of young Lords in Mr. Bryce's entourage who rather thrilled me at the time.

Dr. Edward Emerson, son of Ralph Waldo Emerson, had a summer place in Peterboro and used often to ride over on his horse to see Uncle Abbott. He was a friend of long-standing. Louis Fuertes, the painter and naturalist, was a good friend of Uncle Abbott.

Before I entirely dismiss the Thayers from my story I must tell you a funny tale, connected only slightly with them, of an escapade of mine that dogged my footsteps like a ghost for years till after I graduated from college. One time when I was about 13, I think, Gra [Abbott Thayer's son, the author's cousin] was visiting us and told us that he had once caught grasshoppers, fried them and eaten them and found them very good! Well, he was persuasive. We got a sheet, went into a big field and ran along holding one edge of the sheet near the ground. The captured grasshoppers we fried, and then chopped up and put into sandwiches as a filling. These sandwiches we then brought home and offered to our two families as delicacies. The joke was, from one aspect, that without knowing what was in the sandwich both families liked them! But when the secret was out Papa's cousin was horrified at the thought. She was more horrified at me and considered me some kind of monster. That crime dogged me for years!"

(Excerpts from "My Berkshire: Childhood Recollections written for my children and grandchildren" by Eleanor F. Grose.)

Abbott Thayer: A Short Visit with the Thayers, Pt. 1

Abbott Thayer, "Stevenson Memorial"

I was recently introduced to a delightful memoir, "My Berkshire" by Eleanor F. Grose, in which there is an account of the well-known artist Abbott Thayer, who was her uncle. I hope you enjoy it, too!

"Being with Uncle Abbott was like suddenly coming out into a new physical world of light and color because he made you see so much in everything around you. But the mental and moral world was even more thrilling and exciting. I always felt as if the dimensions of my life grew in every way while I was with him. With them, the Thayers, everything and everybody was treated on their own merits, nothing was done for show or because other people did it. They had no institutional religion and never went to church but had an exceptional love of things and people of beauty and value in the world. You can see from what I have said before about myself how greatly I was influenced by them.

Among the normal run of people they were a queer family. Uncle Abbott was, in his time, one of the well-known and distinguished painters of the country. They had lots of unusual and different ways of living. His first wife died of tuberculosis so he was very apprehensive that his children might have it; therefore he thought that if they lived outdoors all the time they wouldn't get it. So their house in Dublin, which was only built for a summer home, was not heated in the winter except by open fires and the kitchen stove and small stove in the bathroom to keep the pipes from freezing.

Each member of the family had a little hut in the woods, open on one side, and there they slept winter and summer, in sleeping bags in the winter with hot water bottles and all sorts of warm clothes. When I visited them, in the winter, I think when I was in college, I slept on a balcony and I can remember now how cold it was to get undressed and into that cold bed even with a hot water bottle."

To be continued

(Excerpts from "My Berkshire: Childhood Recollections written for my children and grandchildren" by Eleanor F. Grose.)