Henry Farny: The Changing West

"The Song of the Talking Wire" by Henry Farny

"Most of his life Farny remained a bachelor, not marrying until 1906. Over the decades he employed a number of men, usually the down and out, to assist him in the studio and in the field. Farny referred to them as his 'secretaries' - 'old man Bee or Hennessey and others - but they served as Farny's models as well. The most prominent of these secretaries was known to Farny's artist friends as 'Ogallala Fire,' also called Joe. He had been a participant in the Battle of Little Big Horn; it was he who posed for the canvas 'The Last of His Race.' Indignant over the treatment of Indians and generally sympathetic toward those in need, Farny helped Indians whenever he could.  

Throughout his career, Farny used symbolism to show the effects of white civilization on the Indians. 'New Territory' depicts a family of Indians on the move who pause to look at the wagon tracks crossing their path. The Indians' faces reflect attitudes of curiosity, bewilderment, and consternation at this new phenomenon, and even the horse gazes with interest at the tracks, indicating the coming of the white man and the imminent breakdown of the Indian lifestyle. Similar to this theme, Farny also used the railroad as representative of the vanishing frontier, for which he and many people of his time already felt nostalgia. In 1910, when asked whether he would ever return to the West, the artist said: 'It breaks my heart to see the prairies cut up with barbed wire, and to see the once noble Red Man debauching himself with fire water on the reservations. The golden West isn't what it used to be.' 

In 1894 Farny took his last journey West. He left Cincinnati by train for Indian Territory meeting up with General Nelson Miles, who was responsible for Geronimo's capture. He had invited Farny to join him on an inspection tour of the reservation where Kiowa and Comanches were settled, as well as about two-hundred Apaches including Geronimo. Farny sketched Geronimo and used the sketch as a basis for several later paintings. While on the reservation, he watched a ghost dance the Indians held in honor of General Miles. Other than this last trip, Farny remained primarily in Cincinnati for the rest of his life, frequently exhibiting his work there."

To be continued

(Excerpts from "Henry Farny" by Denny Carter.)  

Henry Farny: Down the Missouri

"The Heart of the Rockies"
by Henry Farny

"In 1884 Henry Farny traveled West once more, this time to illustrate an article written for Century magazine. Leaving Helena, Montana on September 16, a group of fourteen men, including Farny and the governor of Montana, took two boats down the Missouri River and arrived at Fort Benton on September 22. On this trip, they passed through mountain country that was largely inaccessible by foot or horse and also passed the settled, agricultural area above Fort Benton. 

The 'Helena Daily Herald' described their itinerary in their September 16, 1884 edition:

'Two boat loads of excursionists pulled out from Helena this morning on wheels for Stubb's Ferry, where they will set sail on the two water crafts under the command of Commodore W.F. Wheeler, on a voyage down the Missouri, through the grandest scenery of any river in the world. We may expect to read and see graphic sketches of this voyage portrayed by pen and pencil by some of the voyagers, who, as editors and artists, are equal to the task of describing and painting in glowing colors the grandeur of the upper Missouri. The party goes prepared to tackle fish and game, and to brave the perils of water, inwardly and outwardly, and to enjoy the pleasures of a camp of jolly sailors by night and the mess of a bully crew by day. Arriving at the Great Falls of the Missouri the party will make a portage, in which their boats will be hauled by wagons about 20 miles, when they will proceed to Fort Benton, and reach there probably next Sunday.' 

Farny proved an able hand at running rapids. The spectacularly wild scenery visible during the day gave way at night to 'weird profiles and masks' looking down from giant steep rocky walls and, at night, gave the 'wanderers a sense of loneliness and mystery.'

Farny's illustrations for this article describe the mountain scenery through which they passed. These illustrations are the artist's first known depictions of the western mountains, and, because of his desire to represent them realistically, he evolved a style different than earlier artists had used. Albert Bierstadt and Thomas Moran had both traveled int he West, and they created panoramic and dramatic views, often showing a valley with an enormous mountain in the distance. Farney's depictions give a more intimate view of this country, and he generally chose a low and near viewpoint. As a result, the mountains rise steeply and are cut off by the sides of the composition, thus evoking a sense of being enclosed in a mountain space."

To be continued

(Excerpts from "Henry Farny" by Denny Carter, "The Artist as Indian Storyteller" by Susan Labry Meyn in "Henry Farny Paints the Far West," and "Down the River" in the "Helena Daily Herald," Sept. 16, 1884.)

 

Henry Farny: Paintings of Indians

"In Pastures New" by Henry Farny

"During the years 1880 through 1892, Henry Farny illustrated for Harper's, Century, and various publishers. However, he devoted more time to his painting, using both oil and gouache, and began his Indian paintings. Apparently the market for Indian subjects was a good one, and he became well known for them. He took several trips to the West to gather material. 

At that time the West was already becoming a nostalgic subject for Americans. The frontier had officially ceased to exist in 1890; a transcontinental railroad had been completed in 1869 and most of the Indians had been confined to reservations during the 1870s. The buffalo had already passed into legend by the time of Farny's visits.

After collecting a large cache of Indian material while with the Sioux at Fort Yates, he returned to Cincinnati with a number of sketches, mostly Indian portraits rather than landscapes. In addition, he took 124 photographs and acquired a considerable number of artifacts, such as a buffalo tooth necklace, a war bonnet, and a tobacco pouch. This material became the basis for Farny's Indian paintings, because he used and reused certain motifs from these sources to create his compositions. During subsequent western trips Farny added to his collection until he could produce a steady stream of authentic looking paintings without moving from his Cincinnati studio.

According to legend, Farny was given a Sioux name while he was at Fort Yates and a circle and dot became the emblem for that name. Whatever its source, the mark became a distinctive part of Farny's signature and was seldom missing on his work. It is interesting to note that from the time of Farny's change in signature, known examples of his paintings began to increase. 

In the early summer of 1882, Farny went to Washington, D.C. to illustrate Frank Cushing's articles on the Zuni Indians for 'Century Magazine.' He used live models from a contingent of the Zuni who were visiting Washington and photographs of their pueblos to create his illustrations. The first of Cushing's articles appeared in December, 1882 and altogether, they contained at least eighteen illustrations by Farny. 

To be continued

(Excerpts from "Henry Farny" by Denny Carter.)  

Henry Farny: Cincinnati

Frank Dengler, Frank Duveneck, Henry Farny
"Prayer on the Battlefield"

Henry Farny returned to Cincinnati after his varied studies in Europe, which had also included a little time in 1873 under Wilhelm von Diez at the Royal Barvarian Academy in Munich. "He set up a studio which was described as 'romantic little chamber' and 'a perfect little museum of curiosities.' Among the objects were drawings, old engravings, and watercolors that he had acquired in his travels. He had collected copies of illustrations by Gustave Doré, beer mugs from Munich, a number of unusual guns, swords, and knives, a Turkish pipe and a pair of Moroccan slippers, along with a book of Japanese designs. Among Farny's own works in the studio, there were studies of sunsets done during the artist's ocean voyages, character studies, copies of Old Master paintings, and illustrations of scenes described by medieval writers. In addition, there were a number of realistic sketches he had drawn of the prisoners in a local police station. His interests were eclectic.  

By May of 1875, found Farny with Cincinnati painter Frank Duveneck helping arrange booths for the Cincinnati Industrial Exposition. The two artists also collaborated on a large historical painting, 'Prayer on the Battlefield,' representing Joan of Arc, which they exhibited at the Exposition. In August, 1875, Farny departed on a third trip to Europe, with Duveneck, the sculptor Frank Dengler, and the painter John Twachtman. Again he studied under Wilhelm von Diez. Diez's work as an illustrator as well as a painter would have resonated with Farny, whose skills continued to improve under the master's tutelage.

To be continued

(Excerpts from "Henry Farny" by Denny Carter and "The Artist's Materials and Techniques," an essay by Cecile D. Mear in "Henry Farny Paints the Far West.") 

 

 

Henry Farny: Working for Harper's

An Engraving by Henry Farny for Harper's
"The Last Scene of the Last Act of the Sioux War"

"Henry Farny left Woodward High School in 1863, sometime prior to the death that year of his father. But the mid-1860s, he was earning money with his artistic talents. He still had not received any formal training, although he was working as a commercial lithographer for Gibson & Company in Cincinnati. He had made drawings that had been used as illustrations in local newspapers, and soon was sending illustrations of Cincinnati events to Harper Brothers in New York. He finally was invited to work as an engraver and cartoonist for Harper Brothers in New York, where he moved in 1866.

The common technique used by large publishing firms in the 1860s was to provide drawings or photos to wood engravers. At Harper's, craftsmanship was valued, and the engravers were instructed to reflect the original medium and quality of line in reproducing the drawings.

Later in his career, Farny's illustrations for Harper's Weekly, Century Magazine, and other publications were conceived in his Cincinnati studio and then sent to the publishers as drawings or finished paintings in gouache on paper. From the late 1870s onward, the printing technology used by publishing firms had evolved from wood engraving to process engraving, which used photographic and mechanical methods to more efficiently transform an original work of art into a reproducible illustration. The original drawing was photographed, and the image was reproduced on a metal plate that was then rolled with ink and etched in acid. 

The gouaches Farny painted for publication were of a size similar to the oil and gouche paintings he created for exhibition or sale to his patrons, and they can stand on their own as finished works of art. At Harper's in 1866, Farny worked for Mr. Charles Parsons, manager of the art department, who was known for encouraging young artists. In New York, Farny had contact with other artists and would have had the opportunity to see exhibits of work by established artists. Regardless of this opportunity, when Farny was twenty he left the United States for Europe, where he studied traditional painting methods at established academies."

To be continued

(Excerpts from "The Artist's Materials and Techniques," an essay by Cecile D. Mear in "Henry Farny Paints the Far West.") 

 

Henry Farny: Varied European Studies

"The Ford" by Henry Farny

"In September of 1867, Henry Farney left New York for Italy where he hoped to study painting under the protection of Thomas Buchanan Read and the sculptor, Randolf Rogers. Arriving on November 9 in Rome he went to live with Read. He seemed pleased with his first months there, working as both secretary and studio assistant to the older artist. During this time, he drew at night and also worked on paintings of his own. In Rome, he met a number of French students as well as Americans.

But soon Farny was chafing under Read's tutelage. He was assisting Read with his compositions by drawing details in preparatory sketches, but was not yet allowed to help with Read's paintings. Their relationship seems to have deteriorated, and the older artist had placed him with Hermann Herzog, a landscapist working in Germany. Farny complained to his mother:

'I wish to become a painter of figures and specially to study portraits (as a very profitable thing) and here this caprice takes Mr. Read to put me with a landscapist. It is as if one put a young man who wished to become a priest with a lawyer. None the less, I work hard, for to know how to paint a landscape is at least something.'

His lack of interest in landscape painting was ironic, since perhaps Farny's greatest achievement as an artist, was his depiction of the American West. Also, his comments show that his interest in art was a professional one. He wished to earn a living and the particular branch of painting that seemed to be most lucrative was the one he wished to pursue. 

While in Düsseldorf, Farny received an encouraging visit from Albert Bierstadt, a renowned American painter of western landscapes. Bierstadt advised Farny to continue his studies for another year, while praising his rapid progress and predicting great success for him. Bierstadt suggested that after Farny completed his studies they should visit the Rocky Mountains. 

By November of 1868 he moved to Strasbourg where he intended to stay several months to study under a Mr. Schuler. Farny's aunt died that same month, leaving 1,200 francs to his family. Apparently, he was able to use this bequest to finance another two years of European study and travel. We don't know the cities he lived in or who he studied with during this time, but one drawing is inscribed Düsseldorf and dated January 12, 1870, so it's possible he may have spent those two years there." 

To be continued

(Excerpts from "Henry Farny" by Denny Carter.)

 

Henry Farny: Pioneer Family

"Days of Long Ago" by Henry Farny

"François Henri Farny was born in Ribeauville, France, on July 15, 1847. The third child of Charles and Jeannette Farny. His father was a carpenter and builder who, as a Protestant, was oppressed by the political and religious atmosphere in France after the revolution in 1848. Accordingly, on September 4, 1853, when Henry was six, Charles Farny left France for America with his wife, his sister-in-law, and his children. After a crossing of about forty-one days, the Farny family arrived in New York.

In January 1854, the Farnys settled in western Pennsylvania, where they bought one hundred sixty-five acres of woodland. Charles Farny established a sawmill on this property with his brother-in-law who owned an adjoining parcel of land. They remained in this area for five years, living in a log cabin. A 1930 'Cincinnati Enquirer article recounts his early years there and his love of art as a child: 'His mother would tell how she could keep him amused for hours by keeping him supplied with paper and a pencil. And in the backwoods when paper was scarce, there was a smooth pine board wall in the kitchen of the log house that he would cover with drawings, which he then would beg someone to scrub off so he could start over again.'

The children were given the rudiments of an education by their parents and a teacher who came to live with them for three months each year. It was here that Henry had his first contact with Indians. Farny described sketching a picture of a Seneca Indian who came to his house in the woods. Then, but five years old and alone in the house, he opened the door to see a huge Indian garbed in festive array. With the words, 'The tribe wishes you all a happy Christmas' the Indian disappeared. The impression became so fixed in his mind that he was able to make a little colored crayon drawing of him that same day. 

When Henry was 11 his father realized it was a mistake to continue a pioneer's life, sold most of his timber lands, built a large raft with living quarters at one end and a shed at the other for the horses and cows, and came down the Allegheny and Ohio Rivers to Cincinnati. The trip took six weeks.

After his arrival in Cincinnati, Henry attended Woodward High School. In April of 1861, his older brother, Eugene, died and his father followed several years later in 1863. During the last year of his father's illness, Henry had been forced to leave school to help support his family. He is supposed to have worked as a bookkeeper, a decorator of watercoolers, and a lithographer of Civil War battle scenes for Gibson & Co."

To be continued

(Excerpts from "Henry Farny" by Denny Carter, "The Artist's Materials and Techniques," an essay by Cecile D. Mear in "Henry Farny Paints the Far West, and "Cincinnati Studios Lafcadio Hearn Knew" by Robert Allen in the "Cincinnati Enquirer.")  

Frederick Carl Frieseke: The Final Word

"The Blue Gown" by Frederick Carl Frieseke

"Sadie and Frederick Carl Frieseke purchased tickets for a visit to the United States to see Frances, Kenton, and Hugh, their new baby. But it was not to be. On the afternoon of August 24, 1939, shortly after the German invasion of Poland, when it was clear to the world that the awful die was cast, Frederick Frieseke died suddenly at his home in Normandy. The cause was an aneurysm. 

Sadie cabled Frances, 'Darling, our Papa could not stand the overpowering emotions of the last few days - with no suffering he left us last night... be brave and help me to bear my sorrow, love.'

The last paintings from Frieseke's hand are vivid small landscapes done in the spring of 1939, when the orchards were all in flower. In the early summer, two months before Frieseke's death, Macbeth had organized a large retrospective exhibition of Frieseke's work for the New York's Grand Central Art Galleries. Frederick's old friend Karl Anderson wrote to him on July 30, 1939, concerning both the exhibition and the times:

'I want to set you straight on the exhibition at the Grand Central. My own impression and, better, the comment of many artists, to me, was fulsome praise if ever I heard it. I assure you it was a premier show of the year, at least for the painters. It means something, but not much at this time, that you did not sell. Show after show came and went, this year, and no sales were made. 

We can explain this only in this way: that the fear of war and the distressing economic state in this country has so distressed people that they have lost all interest in things of the spirit or of any of the forms of beauty. It occurs to me that this might explain the tolerance of sensitive humans to dull ugliness in line and color. It has been easier to accept the propaganda which fostered it than to think much about it. 

My impression was that your exhibition awakened many to the forgotten promise that has been broken. For a short time many had regret that the art you gave was not now in the mode of the misled amateur. More than one artist told me of their faith that your talent was not in eclipse, but that the thought of it was but out of people's mind, for a short time. You are then in the enviable class of the unappreciated and misunderstood, and you should be very happy about that.'

We still have the paintings, which are alive and continue to offer an invitation to the viewer to enter into conversation with them. But let the last words be those of the painter himself, a simple statement, stubborn and hopeful, the last one we have from him to Macbeth, written in September 1937, after Frances had moved away. If anything he ever wrote explains him, these words do. 'We have decided to stick on here for the present. Am working again.'"

To be continued

(Excerpts from "Frederick Carl Frieseke: A Biography by Nicholas Kilmer" in Frederick Carl Frieseke: The Evolution of an American Impressionist"published on the occasion of an exhibition of Frieseke's work.) 

 

Frederick Carl Frieseke: A Question of Place

"Memories" by Frederick Carl Frieseke

"Frances Frieseke, Frederick and Sadie Frieseke's daughter, and Kenton were married in Le Mesnil sur Blangy on June 2, 1937. As was the custom, the whole village joined in the festivities. Afterward the couple went to the United States to live. With the announcement of Frances' pregnancy at the end of the year, the issue of the Friesekes' possible return took on additional impetus. But should they move Frieseke's career must also change its orientation, since painting is a response to both place and time. 

A letter from Sadie to Kenton and Frances gives some idea of the continuing discussion and of its context:

 'Saint Gaudens [Homer Saint-Gaudens], his wife, and Lerolle came to lunch on Wednesday. Papa was a perfect host and the déjeuner went off beautifully... They were all unanimous in telling him to stay where he is. Saint Gaudens says that unless he lives in New York he might as well be here & that even when the American artists have a good year they are worried to death as to where the next year's rent is coming from. You can see how impossible it would be for Papa to live in such an atmosphere... 

They think Papa's later pictures the finest he has done & Saint Gaudens said - what you want to do is stop worrying about where to go & just keep on painting. Erwin Barrie, director of the Grand Central Art Galleries & Macbeth wish to have a retrospective exhibition of Papa's pictures at the New York Grand Central Art Galleries, sometime in the fall - with some of his later things. Barrie has sent five of Papa's pictures to the Venice exhibition & the Italian gallery has given him an entire wall, so Papa seems encouraged by the reborn interest in his work.

As Papa says, if he could he would burn at least 3/5 of the pictures he has painted & it may be the very ones he would burn that they will choose. If I could only persuade Papa to go over himself to hang the show [Sadie was ill at this time] - but of course he won't hear of such a thing.'

The Friesekes purchased tickets for a visit to the United States to see Frances, Kenton, and Hugh, their new baby. But it was not to be." 

To be continued

(Excerpts from "Frederick Carl Frieseke: A Biography by Nicholas Kilmer" in Frederick Carl Frieseke: The Evolution of an American Impressionist"published on the occasion of an exhibition of Frieseke's work.) 

 

Frederick Carl Frieseke: For the Love of Art

"Blue Girl Reading" by Frederick Carl Frieseke

"Concerning the Macbeth exhibition of Frieseke's winter subjects, Robert Macbeth wrote with brutal brevity, 'We liked them and the public didn't.' Frederick Carl Frieseke returned to exhibiting at the Société Nationale des Beaux-Arts in 1932, but from then on, working chiefly for himself - and an audience that was not likely to include purchasers - he concentrated almost exclusively on the portrait.

The drastic reduction in the family's finances led them to give up the Paris apartment and to settle down in Normandy. In 1934 Fred reached the age of sixty and was experiencing periods of depression and physical disability, such as neuritis in the shoulders, which made painting difficult.

Nevertheless, the years 1934 to 1935 saw the last great flowering of the painter's energy in a series of portraits including 'The Library,' and culminating in his late masterpiece, 'Blue Girl Reading,' both portraits of Frances. His last extensive show of recent work in October 1935, included some sixteen paintings spanning the period from 1932 onward. That his work continued to be well received, in critical terms, is amply demonstrated by the award of the Corcoran's second William Clark Prize and a silver medal for the 1934 portrait "At the Piano.'

In 1935 it was becoming increasingly evident to all who took note of the political winds in Europe that another major war was inevitable. The effects of the Depression were still a factor also. At the same time, Frances had become engaged to Kenton Kilmer, a young American poet and editor with whom she had begun a correspondence in the winter of 1933-34. Considering their daughter's impending marriage and other factors, the Friesekes contemplated the possibility of moving to the United States. Frieseke wrote Macbeth:  

'I have not been painting for some time. I promise the impetus will come again some day, when I can convince myself that it is worthwhile from some point of view. I have a very few canvases, but it really doesn't seem worthwhile adding to your encumberment. At times we consider returning to America to live but it seems a bit venturesome after all these years, especially as we can live here perfectly comfortably on our greatly reduced income. I must confess, however, that I am getting dissatisfied at not working.'"

To be continued

(Excerpts from "Frederick Carl Frieseke: A Biography by Nicholas Kilmer" in Frederick Carl Frieseke: The Evolution of an American Impressionist"published on the occasion of an exhibition of Frieseke's work.) 

 

Frederick Carl Frieseke: Ill Health

"White Lilies" by Frederick Carl Frieseke

"The Frieseke family returned to the United States during the final weeks of 1928. It had been eighteen years since they had last seen New York. They were shocked and overwhelmed by the rush and vulgarity, and by the hypocrisy manifested in urban America under Prohibition. They also stopped in Pittsburgh and then visited the Karl Andersons in Connecticut. Anderson had been storing old paintings of Frieseke's that Macbeth had no present use for, and Fred took the opportunity to destroy a great many of them, which he felt to be 'no longer a credit to his reputation.'

On their return to France, their daughter, Frances, whose health had never been robust, was diagnosed as having a 'pretubercular' condition. It was decided that she must be exposed to a regimen, which included better air, in Switzerland. This downturn in her health recalled the recent death of her friend Elsbeth, who was Richard Miller's daughter. That had hit the Friesekes very hard. Sadie reminded Frances:

 'You know I was with Elsbeth's mama when Elsbeth was born and I always felt that if anything happened to her parents that she would of course live with us. She seemed so much a part of our family... I think of that other poor mother and father who haven't any little girl any more and I just feel as though I couldn't bear it. I wrote to Aunt Billee & Uncle Richard & I wish you to do also - just the kind of letter you would like Elsbeth to have written to me, if God had taken you away from us... You will all understand how such a terrible tragedy makes my heart stand still. Poor Papa is a wreck & and of one thing you can be sure. There will be no boarding school away off among strangers for you...'

So Sadie accompanied Frances to Switzerland, where they spent the next two years while she followed her cure prescribed by a sanatorium. Fred joined them within four months. Within the next few years Frances improved enough that the family returned to Normandy."

To be continued

(Excerpts from "Frederick Carl Frieseke: A Biography by Nicholas Kilmer" in Frederick Carl Frieseke: The Evolution of an American Impressionist"published on the occasion of an exhibition of Frieseke's work.) 

Frederick Carl Frieseke: Salon des Tuileries

"Child at the Piano" by Frederick Carl Frieseke

"In 1923 Frederick Carl Frieseke broke from the Salon of the Société Nationale des Beaux-Arts and joined with others in establishing the Salon des Tuileries, showing two nudes, a portrait of the dancer Jane Belo, and an image of his daughter Frances at the piano. In keeping with the sentiments of the renegades, the group's introductory manifesto proclaimed:

'The most gifted of the artists of the Salon d'Automne and the Independent were invited to show next to Friesz, Guérin, Flandrin, on the line at the Salon de Tuileries, even the isolated who, on account of their hatred of the promiscuity of the salons and their mercantilism in the race after medals [had rejected the other salons as unworthy venues for true artists].' 

 In its first year the Tuileries attracted others among the Europeans who were associated with the more modern movements. Matisse would join the following year, as would Marc Chagall and Paul Sérusier. It is in this company, perhaps, as well as in that of such Americans as Bellows and Glackens, that Frieseke's work of the last two decades is best understood. Never discordant, shocking, or purposely worrying, Frieseke's later works nonetheless contain a new sense of realism that more and more eschews style or an audience's expectation. They rely more on the accidents of everyday life, which when they are viewed with the painter's care, take on a poignant gravity.

The October 1924 shipment to Macbeth - twenty-two canvases ('the pick of my things, past and present') - shows the artist's preferred direction. Seven of the clothed figures are portraits of Frieseke's wife or daughter in which the artist, relishing the range of color to be discovered in the skin in shadow made no effort to address a public taste for what might be dismissed as merely pretty. There was a growing disparity between what collectors looked for and what Frieseke's development led him to produce. One critic observed of one work:

'The figure belongs to the highest reach of Frieseke's talent, finely observed, beautifully and tenderly painted with the quiet, almost solemn, grasp that for a time was almost driven out of flesh-painting by the attempted radiance of impressionism.'

Frieseke took what comfort he could. 'I cannot help feeling from what I have heard from others, that it was a success from points of view other than financial.' But Frieseke pressed on, continuing to exhibit regularly in the Salons and joining with his colleagues in group exhibitions in Paris and the United States."

To be continued

(Excerpts from "Frederick Carl Frieseke: A Biography by Nicholas Kilmer" in Frederick Carl Frieseke: The Evolution of an American Impressionist"published on the occasion of an exhibition of Frieseke's work.) 

 

Frederick Carl Frieseke: Outside Interests

"Frances" by Frederick Carl Frieseke

"In Paris the Friesekes kept up their social schedule. Fred painted in the morning, played billiards in the afternoon. They had luncheon, tea, or dinner with friends, and attended musical and theatrical offerings. Sadie, being far more gregarious than Fred, was more likely to take part in the salons at Gertrude Stein's than he. He preferred to lunch quietly with his good friend the Irish painter Roderic O'Conor, a neighbor on the rue du Cherche Midi and once Gauguin's painting companion, or he might play billiards with the painter Charles Thorndike, visit exhibitions, or browse the book stalls.

In Normandy Fred painted or fished. If the caged bird - for him the symbol of contented domesticity - had a natural rival it was the wild trout of the Touques or the Risele. Sadie became an active participant in the life of the town where their farm was situated. At the Normandy house, called La Beauvairie, and commemorated in the artist's 'My Home in Normandy.'

There had never been a time when Frieseke did not turn serious attention to landscape. His protracted study of the Luxembourg Gardens in the spring of 1901 had led directly to the Brittany landscapes of that summer. In Giverny he had done 'pure' landscapes without figure) representing that specific countryside, but Macbeth could do nothing with them and tended not to show them.  

Whether outdoors or in his studio the painter was entranced by the change of light and atmosphere in Normandy. Unlike the sunny, dry Giverny climate that reveals brilliant and distinct colors, the Normandy microclimate is moist, unpredictable, and frequently wild, with brilliant sun often eclipsed by wind and rain. The fertile landscape presents a bewildering range of absorbent greens, with only the most subtle color shifts. This landscape fascinated Frieseke. He was also intrigued, no doubt, by his new position as proprietor of a working farm. During the 1920s he returned to it frequently, working either in the orchards and pastures below his home or in the extensive gardens Sadie designed and supervised above it."

To be continued

(Excerpts from "Frederick Carl Frieseke: A Biography by Nicholas Kilmer" in Frederick Carl Frieseke: The Evolution of an American Impressionist"published on the occasion of an exhibition of Frieseke's work.) 

 

 

Frederick Carl Frieseke: Normandy and Frances

"The Artist's Daughter" by Frederick Carl Frieseke

"As his career progressed Frederick Carl Frieseke did not hesitate to follow his innate sense of how his craft must develop. His manner and approach would become progressively more meditative and deliberate, his production less. He wrote Macbeth:

'My present method of painting allows me to produce very few pictures as compared with that I turned out previously. You will have to explain to your customers that these pictures take five to six times as long to paint as previous ones, and I consider them far more complete as works of art.'

There were other changes at work as well. In 1919 the Friesekes decided to shift their summer quarters. They had become friendly with the Philadelphian George Biddle, who had painted with Fred in Giverny during the summers of 1915 and 1916. In September 1919 Fred wrote to George, 

'We have been trying to find a place in Normandy to buy. Hard to  find what we want and the troubled times here make us doubtful if it's wise to buy at all... Giverny has been quite gay this summer. Louis [Ritman] is installed in Miss Wheeler's house with his model [Gaby]. Waldo Pierce, with Jeanne Savoy, is living in the little house next to the farm...'

Though the Friesekes often said that their reason for taking a place in Normandy was the fishing, undoubtedly they had also concluded that Giverny was no place to bring up a little girl. Once they had purchased the Normandy property in 1919, Frieseke began the series of landscapes and the clothed figures - many of them portraits - that would occupy him for the remainder of his life. As Frances grew older, she became more and more his preferred subject.

From the very beginning the Friesekes had never been at ease about their daughter's health. Her birth followed a difficult pregnancy, and her infancy was threatened from the outset by her parents' unwitting use of a criminally adulterated baby formula to which formaldehyde had been added as a preservative. For much of her youth, and until her marriage in 1937, Frances was considered to be either an invalid or at grave risk. Though she occasionally attended schools for brief periods, as the Friesekes moved back and forth from Paris to Normandy, for the most part her education relied on tutors and governesses."

To be continued

(Excerpts from "Frederick Carl Frieseke: A Biography by Nicholas Kilmer" in Frederick Carl Frieseke: The Evolution of an American Impressionist"published on the occasion of an exhibition of Frieseke's work.) 

Frederick Carl Frieseke: "Peace"

"Peace" by Frederick Carl Frieseke

"The war progressed, and Fred and Sadie Frieseke continued the routines of life and work in Paris and Giverny, wintering in the south of France between October 1917 and the spring of 1918. Among the paintings sent to Macbeth in the fall of 1917 was one whose title, 'Peace,' given the context of the World War during which it was composed, suggests more than a passing consideration for the metaphorical significance of its subject. It represents what we read as a mother seated in the nursery, sewing, next to her child's cradle. It is as domestic a subject as may be imagined. The model is Louise, a native of Giverny who posed frequently for Frieseke at this time, and the cradle was that of Frieseke's daughter, who had long outgrown it. The message of the painting's title was not lost on its American audience when it was shown in 1918. One reporter observed:

 'Woman as the hope and consolation of the race is the basic thought of Frieseke's 'Peace'... Altogether, the picture is full of hope for a new generation that shall not be obsessed by frightfulness... Frieseke's picture evokes a vision of the time forecast in the words of the prophet Micah, 'And they shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift a sword against nation; neither shall they learn war any more.'

Very likely the painting's title was Sadie's contribution since she assisted when a shipment of paintings must be given titles. An earlier or preparatory version of the subject was called simply 'In the Nursery.' Whatever the painter's intention, and however the title came about, we can only applaud the happy coincidence of the painter's craft and the journalist's reading." 

To be continued

(Excerpts from "Frederick Carl Frieseke: A Biography by Nicholas Kilmer" in Frederick Carl Frieseke: The Evolution of an American Impressionist"published on the occasion of an exhibition of Frieseke's work.)