Frank W. Benson: New Frontiers

"Portrait of Willard Metcalf"
by Frank W. Benson

"Frank W. Benson first discovered salmon fishing when a friend invited him to go to New Brunswick in the late summer of 1894. Accompanied by seven Indian guides, the two pushed into the wilderness for thirty miles. They poled and paddled their canoes up rapid rivers, fished numerous pools, and lived in a tent for a week. 'It was a charming experience in every way,' Benson wrote. 'The only real camp life I ever had.' As sure as the salmon he sought on his first fishing trip to Canada, Benson was hooked. His annual summer trip to the banks of the Gaspé's rivers became an important part of his life for close to four decades. As he once wrote to a friend of these trips, 'It is the thing I look forward to most during the rest of the year and, in the course of my life, I have fished and canoed on ten or twelve of the wild streams of Canada.' 

It was at the Bon Salmon Club on the Bonaventure River on Quebec's Gaspé Peninsula that another new chapter opened in Benson's life. Painted on July 19, 1921, 'Malin Run,' a study of one of the streams near the club, was the first effort by Benson in a series of watercolors that eventually numbered over 600. His second watercolor was a light, informal study of Willard Metcalf [pictured above], perched on the edge of the stream working on a small watercolor. While still in Canada, Benson painted watercolors of a guide in a canoe, one of a good fishing hole, and the salmon camp itself. Back in North Haven, he painted watercolors of a  tent, an arrangement of flowers from his wife's garden, a study of daughter Sylvia standing on a bluff gazing out to ear, a duck blind and the nearby woods, the ponds, and the autumn colors.

When a small collection of his new watercolors hung at the Guild of Boston Artists that autumn, William Howe Downes, the dean of the Boston art critics, wrote that they were suggestive of Sargent or Homer. His new direction continued to provoke glowing praise in the media. Benson was clearly encouraged by the positive reception to his new medium and wrote, 'It certainly is very heartening when you do something in a new way to find that other people are pleased with it. It makes life much more fun than it was before.'" 

To be continued

(Excerpts from "The Sporting Art of Frank W. Benson" by Faith Andrews Bedford.)

 

Frank W. Benson: "The Guild of Boston Artists" by R.H. Ives Gammell

"Reverie" by Edmund Tarbell,
first president of the Guild of Boston Artists

We have just read about the formation of the Guild of Boston Artists, with Frank W. Benson being one of its founders and its second president. It has also been brought to my attention that it was NOT begun as a reaction to any discrimination from out-of-state exhibitions but for very different reasons. The following excerpt from a paper written by R.H. Ives Gammell explains its beginnings.

THE GUILD OF BOSTON ARTISTS

BY R. H. IVES GAMMELL 

1942

 

"TWENTY-EIGHT YEARS AGO a group of artists working in Boston decided to form a professional group which they would call the Guild of Boston Artists. The primary purpose of this move was to enable these painters and sculptors to maintain a gallery of their own in which they could exhibit their work. Expenses ‘were to be met by deducting a percentage from the sales made in the gallery, by dues from the active members, and through a group of associate members as well. For active membership there was to be one essential qualification, the professional competence of an artist in his particular field. To be a member of the Guild of Boston Artists a painter or a sculptor. must know his trade. This, at least, was the intention of the founders.

 

That was in 1914. The concept of making professional knowledge and skill the common denominator for an association of artists seemed then, less eccentric and subversive than it would seem to many people today. It was, in point of fact, merely trying to do in Boston what had been done in Europe for several hundred years, wherever artists congregated in sufficient numbers. Organized first as confraternities or guilds, later as academies, these groups of professional workers in the arts had always tried to maintain certain standards of craftsmanship as well as to cooperate for their own mutual protection and advancement. Conditions in twentieth century Boston were very different from those which had made the earlier guilds necessary in their day. It would have been impossible to pattern the new institution after its predecessors. But the name made an appeal to the organizers because of its association with high professional standards. And it was to the painter’s guilds of seventeenth-century Holland that the founders of the Guild of Boston Artists looked with the greatest sympathy." *

 

* If you would like a pdf of the entire essay, click here.

 

Frank W. Benson: The Gift of Quality

"Towering Widgeon and Mallards at Evening"
by Frank W. Benson

"Frank W. Benson said, 'Every artist must see things in his own way. He will do this as the Japanese have done it for centuries - study some object in nature until he can draw it from memory by repeated practice. In that way I learned how birds appear in flight, watching them by the hours, returning to the studio to make drawings, then back to the birds to make corrections.'

Benson was one of the first artists to understand what flexing the wings meant to a bird in flight and to know what part the tail played in arising or alighting. He knew that the long-necked birds, like wild geese and ducks, steered themselves by means of the head and neck. He showed in his etchings how birds used the force and direction of the wind just as a sailboat does.

One can easily distinguish the Bensons in a room full of wildfowl etchings. If the birds look real, it is a Benson etching. If they look forced or wooden, it is not. He conveyed perfectly the appearance of a bird flying, whether lifting itself into the air, alighting, or soaring. The moment of splashdown is explosive; the turn of a curious head is alert; even the soft dangling of a feathered shape perfectly recalls the lifeless form of a goose when being carried home by the triumphant hunter. 

Benson felt that the Boston Public Library would be the ideal repository for his own collection of one of each etching, numerous trial proofs, pencil sketches, and an assortment of unfinished etchings that are not mentioned in any of the catalogues. Donated by the artist and his family in 1947, the collection remains a rare opportunity for scholars and print enthusiasts to see originals of Benson's entire oeuvre in one place. 

His artist friend, Arthur Heintzelman, who brought this collection from Benson's home to the library, wrote him:

'Cher Maître, Just a few lines to let you know that I arrived safely at the library with your precious package. To have carried your entire etched work under my arm was a thrill difficult to put into words and I could not help but look back over the years and reflect upon the importance of your accomplishments. You have done for the revival of American etchings what Whistler and Haden did in England and Europe. Your inspired messages are in your work and those of us who have known you personally and have had the privilege of sharing your high ideals in life and in art are the richer by your fine example and accomplishment. It will be my privilege to pass on to students, print lovers and connoisseurs all the qualities so masterfully recorded on your plates and by spoken and written word.'" 

To be continued

(Excerpts from "The Sporting Art of Frank W. Benson" by Faith Andrews Bedford.)

 

 

Frank W. Benson: Guild of Boston Artists

"Canoes and Men Poling a River" by Frank W. Benson

"In the summer of 1914 at North Haven, Frank W. Benson received numerous letters from fellow Boston artists keeping him up to date on the progress of the newly formed Guild of Boston Artists. For the past year, the local newspapers had been rumbling indignantly with stories of Bostonians being slighted by various exhibitions. Together, the city's artists had submitted nearly 250 canvasses to the jury of the prestigious Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts for its annual exhibition, yet only twenty-three had been chosen. Few Boston artists were accepted for the annual shows at the National Academy or the Philadelphia Academy of Design. Accusations were hurled and emotions ran high.

Benson, together with six other artist friends decided that, if Bostonians were not getting the exposure they deserved in other cities, they would open their own gallery, one dedicated exclusively to Boston artists. The seven artists quickly began to make plans to purchased and renovate a building on Newbury Street that would serve as a site. Word of the new organization quickly spread in Boston's artistic circles; the membership grew rapidly. As one member later observed, the group decided to emulate the well-established Guilds of Europe where each group of professional workers in the arts tried to 'maintain certain standard of craftsmanship as well as cooperate for their own mutual protection and advancement. The name made an appeal to the organizers because of its association with high professional standards.'

The group agreed to have several general shows each year that would include works of all the members. More than a third of the 42 charter members were women, excellent artists including Lilian Westcott Hale, Lilla Cabot Perry and Gertrude Fiske. These were to be interspersed with various one-man shows, highlighting the works of an individual artist for a fortnight. The inaugural exhibition of the Guild of Boston Artists was a resounding success.

To be continued

(Excerpts from "The Sporting Art of Frank W. Benson" by Faith Andrews Bedford.)

Frank W. Benson: Etcher Poet

"Man with a Gaff" by Frank W. Benson

"Frank W. Benson's annual fishing trips to Canada's Gaspé Peninsula inspired dozens of watercolors and oils that ranged from quiet studies of boats at rest to paintings of the fishermen themselves. From these paintings or from sketches made on these trips, Benson also created more than sixteen etchings, not only of his fishing companions and their guides but also of the loggers he saw on the rivers and the men who hunted in the deep woods bordering the swift streams.

In 'Man with a Gaff' we see what one critic meant when he said, 'What [Benson] leaves out is almost as important as what he puts in, and the open space plays a not inconsiderable part in the arrangement of his composition.' Benson did not add extraneous matter such as horizon, landscape, clouds in this picture. He kept it simple. At other times it is clear that Benson felt the balance of the composition would be improved by the addition of a tree, a few clumps of grass, and so on.

Benson cautioned his daughter, 'A good picture has a certain austerity, a distinction, whether of the thing itself, the lighting, the color or the arrangement. Mere craftsmanship, representing nature, does not make a picture.' Many have questioned how an etcher, using a hard stylus on a cold, metal plate, can convey the fluid movement of a living, flying creature. But Benson welcomed the challenge. After much work and experimentation he was able to say, 'A picture or a drawing is like a poem. When the poet starts, he has no more and no different words to work with than you have. A work of art is made by his choice - selection and combination of ordinary material.'"

To be continued

(Excerpts from "The Sporting Art of Frank W. Benson" by Faith Andrews Bedford.)

 

Frank W. Benson: Divine Discontent

"Alert" by Frank W. Benson

"Frank W. Benson's grandchildren remember that he often put an etching through many trial proofs before he was satisfied with the end result. They recall his deep sighs of frustration and looks of disgust as he pulled off the second or third trial from a new plate and found it not to his liking. His notations, in pencil, on the early trials were instructions to himself on how to improve the next proof state. Comments about such things as adding clouds, increasing the number of birds, or darkening specific lines are written in the margins of his trial proofs. These penciled notes are an interesting window into the mind of the artist struggling to get the plate to a point he considered satisfactory.

Benson spoke often of the endless hours needed to master this skill and the opportunities for frustration inherent in a medium that demanded long periods of trial and error. Although a great number of his etchings so pleased him on the first pull that he required no further proofs, printing the entire edition from the first state, many others demanded multiple trial impressions. Others so clearly displeased him that after printing just a few trials, he abandoned the plate. 

A good example of this is Benson's 'Pintails Passing.' Although he had been etching for fully fifteen years when he created this drypoint in 1930, he required eight proofs before he was ready to publish. Working slowly on the design, Benson merely outlined the first few ducks in the first impression and then filled them in for the second. In the third trial he darkened two ducks and in the fourth completed the work on the upper four birds. He then added reflections and the horizon line for a fifth trials, and, not liking the reflection of the lowest bird, he reduced it by scraping. Of these trial proofs he printed only one or two impressions. Benson then lengthened the tail in the central bird, narrowed its body and introduced foreground rushes. In his final proof, he strengthened all the ducks, developed the landscape and horizon more fully and added clouds. Not quite satisfied, he removed the burr from the bodies of the upper birds before printing an edition of 150.

His good friend and fellow-etcher, Samuel Chamberlain, said that, even after more than twenty years of etching, 'Benson was a tireless experimentor, spurred on by a divine discontent with his work, and aspiring some day to do an etching that entirely pleased him. Once when asked if he had a favorite etching, Benson merely replied, 'I do each one as well as I can and let it go at that.'"

To be continued

(Excerpts from "The Sporting Art of Frank W. Benson" by Faith Andrews Bedford.)

Frank W. Benson: Etchings

"Rain Squall," an etching by Frank W. Benson

"By 1915, Frank W. Benson had been etching for three years. Since he did not consider his prints worthy of sale, he had given most of them to family, friends, and fellow artists. For the most part, he did his etchings for relaxation, a challenging change of pace. He hadn't considered them worthy of exhibition. But a number of his friends thought otherwise, And obviously the public felt the same. The exhibition at the Guild had not even been open a week when George Sloan called Benson to tell him that every etching had been sold and to ask if he could bring in more on his next trip into Boston. 

In the first published critique of his etchings, it was noted that Benson was devoting his evenings to etching and did all his own printing. 'He is an original and remarkable etcher... To say the etchings are as good in their way as the paintings is the highest praise possible... The very ecstasy of flight is expressed in the swift gliding of these birds in the air. It is as natural as breathing, and to see them flying is to feel that you, too, could fly.' Remarks of this sort were to be echoed time and again in the dozens of articles written about Benson's etched work.

Benson printed his first etching at the age of twenty-one, inspired by a talk given in Boston by Sir Francis Seymour Haden, a noted British etcher. Buying himself a copy of Maxime Lalannne's 'Treatise on Etching,' Benson carefully followed Lalanne's instructions and began experimenting in the attic of his Salem home. His first etching, 'Salem Harbor,' was used as the frontispiece for an edition of 'The Art Students,' the Museum School magazine of which he was an editor. After the copper plate was steel faced, a Boston printer ran off fifteen hundred copies. But, when Benson had made three or four further attempts at etching, he discontinued his efforts, feeling that he 'did not know enough about drawing to make etchings.' 

Benson was granted one-man shows of his prints in most of America's major cities. Issues of art magazines were devoted to his etching. He won award after award, and many collectors had standing orders for one of any etching he might complete. Called the 'Dean of the American Etchers' and 'Master of the Sporting Print,' Benson was urged to write a book about this new 'experiment' that had met with such enthusiasm, but he declined, saying such things were 'better left to others.' 

To be continued

(Excerpts from "The Sporting Art of Frank W. Benson" by Faith Andrews Bedford.)