William Morris Hunt: "Anahita" or "Flight of Night"

William Morris Hunt's high-relief sculpture for "Anahita"

"In 1846 William Morris Hunt's brother Leavitt had sent him a translation of a Persian poem, 'Anahita,'  the nature-goddess whom the Persians borrowed from the Babylonians, and whom the Greeks identified with Aphrodite. The beginning of the poem reads:

'Enthroned upon her car of light, the moon
Is circling down the lofty heights of Heaven.
Her well-trained coursers wedge the blindest depths
With fearful plunge, yet heed the steady hand
That guides their lonely way. So swift her course
So bright her smile, she seems on silver wings,
O'er reaching space, to glide the airy main;
Behind, far-flowing, spreads her deep blue veil
Inwrought with stars that shimmer in its wave...'

Oil and chalk study for "Anahita" by Hunt

The subject at once took possession of Hunt's mind and continued with him nearly through life. Numberless studies and sketches were made in all these years, and the theme was never long absent from his mind. A general idea of the composition was settled upon at first, and many sketches from life and from memory were made as opportunity occurred. 

A large study was begun with reference to the final painting of the great picture. Just before the fire, Hunt had sent to Russia for canvas, and had planned for a painting that was to be fifty feet in length. The talented young artist, John B. Johnston, was engaged to underpaint the canvas, and assist in putting the design upon its new and large proportions.

When the great picture was well advanced towards completion, the fire came; and not a trace of the Anahita was in existence, with exception of a small photograph of the composition which Hunt had once given to the architect Rinn. From this all subsequent paintings of the composition were chiefly made.

While studying the three horses, Hunt had modelled them with great success, and as the mould was left at a plaster-worker's shop, it was possible to obtain copies from which to work. While at his sister's house in Newport for a few days, he had painted, on a Japanese tray, his conception of the group, mother and child, sleeping in the cloud-cradle. From these studies he continued his work so cruelly interrupted by the fire.

Almost thirty years later, when Hunt was fifty-four, he received a commission from the state of New York to paint two lunettes for the capitol building in Albany. One of the spaces gave him an opportunity to paint the "Anahita," only it was decided to call it "The Flight of Night." He returned at once to begin the work. The few who saw him at the time spoke of him as being upon the heights of classic and serene exaltation.

But he had also been given a very tight deadline - less than sixty days in which to paint the work before the opening of the Assembly Chamber on the 21st of December. During that time he spent every day at the capitol, having dinners sent up, the table being set in the corner of the scaffolding. The scaffolding prevented him from seeing his work from the floor until after its removal - and thankfully, at that point, his satisfaction was immediate and perfect, and his joy rapturous. He found himself victorious!"

To be continued

(Excerpts from "The Art-Life of William Morris Hunt" by Helen Mary Knowlton.)