Archives of American Art Blog

Facial Hair of Note: Frédéric A. Bartholdi

Frederic Auguste Bartholdi, ca. 1880 / Napoleon Sarony, photographer. Charles Scribner's Sons Art Reference Dept. records, Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.

French sculptor, Frédéric Auguste Bartholdi (1834–1904) is best known for designing the Statue of Liberty. However, one can see a fantastic piece by Bartholdi near the US Capitol in Washington, DC. The Bartholdi Fountain and Park are on the grounds of the United States Botanic Garden, which is within walking distance of a number of the Smithsonian Museums. It’s a lovely “hidden” gem within the city!

Jennifer Snyder works with oral history interviews at the Archives American Art. When not sending interviews out for digitization, she is writing about extraordinary examples of facial hair for this blog.

Facial Hair of Note: Ramón Carulla

Ramón Carulla in a hat, 1980 / Carlos Alberto Camilla, photographer. Ramón Carulla papers, Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.

Ramón Carulla was born in Havana, Cuba, in 1938. Today, he lives and works in Miami making figurative art. This photo, taken in 1980, makes me want to put on my sandals and find a margarita so we can sit down and talk about how his latest dream has made its way into his work. Join us?

Explore more:

• Ramón Carulla papers, 1971–1996

Jennifer Snyder works with oral history interviews at the Archives American Art. When not sending interviews out for digitization, she is writing about extraordinary examples of facial hair for this blog.

From Kauai to Monhegan Island and Back Again

Reuben Tam on Haleakala Crater, before 1941 / unidentified photographer. Reuben Tam papers, Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.

Reuben Tam on Monhegan Island, 1946 / unidentified photographer. Reuben Tam papers, Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.

Notes on Monhegan Island, ca. 1946. Reuben Tam papers, Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.

Maine landscape sketch, 195-?. Reuben Tam papers, Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.

In a 1970 artist statement, Reuben Tam explained that his paintings are “about weather and geology, islands, tides, and light, and the very movement of the earth.” His personal papers, which were donated to the Archives of American Art in 2009, reveal Tam’s love for two very different island landscapes.

Tam was born into a large family in Kapaa Town, Kauai, Hawaii, in 1916. Inspired by the striking Hawaiian landscapes from a young age, his first oil painting was of Haupu Ridge, which he could see from his classroom at Kauai High School.

He received a degree from the University of Hawaii, studied at the California School of Fine Arts and, in 1941, settled in New York City. There he was represented by Downtown Gallery and taught at the Brooklyn Museum of Art School from 1946 to 1974.

Though immersed in the New York art scene, Tam regularly took summer trips to the coastal islands of Maine.  His papers include an album containing photographs of a 1946 sketching trip with fellow artists William Kienbusch, Carl Nesjar, and Hyde Solomon. In 1948 he and his wife Geraldine bought a house on Monhegan Island, Maine, and spent summers there until 1979.

Tam felt drawn to Monhegan Island, and in his notes stated that it was “as if the sea had organized some sort of fraternity” that had also inspired artists such as Rockwell Kent, Andrew Winter, and Morris Kantor.

His papers include seventeen large sketchbooks of the rocky landscapes and shorelines, and several photographs of him perched on the cliffs with a sketchbook. 

In 1979, after nearly forty years, Tam and his wife moved back to Kauai. Once again, he could study the landscapes that originally inspired him. In 1984 he had an exhibition of old and new works at the Honolulu Academy of Arts entitled “Two Islands: Paintings by Reuben Tam.”

Both island homes inspired Tam not only to paint, but to write poetry as well. His papers include many draft poems, some of which were posthumously published as The Wind–Honed Islands Rise in 1996.

Erin Kinhart is a processing archivist at the Archives of American Art.

I Struck it Rich in the Fan Mail File: Jackson Pollock and his littlest fan

Mrs. Helen K. Sellers fan letter to Jackson Pollock, with photo of her son Manning, 1948 Aug. 8. Jackson Pollock and Lee Krasner papers, Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.

When Archives of American Art acting director Liza Kirwin invited me to be the guest curator of a show celebrating Jackson Pollock’s centenary, I jumped at the chance to dive into the original documents. The digitized collection is a fantastic resource, but there’s nothing like the real thing to take you into the artist’s world. One drawback, however: I live on eastern Long Island, and the documents are in Washington, DC, quite a curatorial commute. But by traveling via the Internet to the material online, I was able to make a preliminary selection, so I knew what I was looking for when I got to the Archives and hit the boxes.

One file that caught my eye is labeled “Fan Mail to Pollock.” In it is a letter from a woman named Helen K. Sellers of Charleston, SC, written on August 8, 1949. That was the publication date of the now–famous Life magazine article on Pollock, headlined, “Is he the greatest living painter in the United States?” Mrs. Sellers wrote on behalf of her seven year–old son, Manning, who loved one of the paintings in the color spread, the long canvas identified as Number Nine. (It’s now called Summertime: Number 9A, 1948, and it’s in the Tate Modern in London.) Manning asked her to tell Pollock that he’d put it in his scrapbook, “the first painting that he has ever cut out,” and that he wanted Pollock to have his picture in exchange—not a painting, but a photograph of him with his cocker spaniel, Snafu. I’ll bet Pollock never had a more heartfelt and sincere tribute. He kept the letter and the photo, and there they were, 63 years later, in the Fan Mail file.

Mrs. Helen K. Sellers fan letter to Jackson Pollock, with photo of her son Manning, 1948 Aug. 8. Jackson Pollock and Lee Krasner papers, Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.

Well, Manning may have fallen in love with Number Nine, but I fell in love with Manning and Snafu. Not only did I want the documents in the show, but I thought that Manning would like to know about it. Again thanks to the Internet I was able to track him down in Florida. He was surprised to hear from me, and thrilled to learn that his fan letter has survived—although Snafu has long since gone to that great dog park in the sky.

“Memories Arrested in Space, a centennial tribute to Jackson Pollock from the Archives of American Art” will be on view from January 28–May 15 in the Lawrence A. Fleischman Gallery at the Donald W. Reynolds Center for American Art and Portraiture (8th and F Streets NW, Washington, D.C.). Admission is free.

Helen A. Harrison is the director of the Pollock-Krasner House and Study Center in East Hampton, New York

Sideburns of Note: Donald Grant Mitchell

Blogs across the Smithsonian will give an inside look at the Institution’s archival collections and practices during a month long blogathon in celebration of October’s American Archives Month. See additional posts from our other participating blogs, as well as related events and resources, on the Smithsonian’s Archives Month website.

Donald Grant Mitchell, 1883 / unidentified photographer. Charles Scribner's Sons Art Reference Dept. records, Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.

Readers know by now that I am fond of men’s facial hair. therefore, it should be no surprise that I am enthralled with Whisker Wars, the new reality show about facial hair competitions in the US. Contestants featured on the show have the ultimate goal of completing in the World Beard & Mustache Championships.

Using photographs at the Archives of American Art I have come up with some contestants for a facial hair competition of my own. For instance, surely Donald Grant Mitchell and his tremendous sideburns have potential to place highly in the Partial Beard or the Sideburns Freestyle categories. Maybe he could enter both! Perhaps Bill Mitchell (no relation to Donald), the 2011 Sideburns Freestyle winner at the World Beard and Mustache Championships, has some pointers for Donald Grant Mitchell?

Donald Grant Mitchell (1822-1908) was an American essayist, often writing under the nom de plume Ik Marvel. His most well–known book may be Reveries of a Bachelor [you can read several editions on Open Library]. Mitchell attended Yale and traveled Europe extensively in the mid–1800s, much of it on foot. A profile from The New York Times in 1893 claims he walked 600 miles in England alone! He was an agriculturalist and landscape architect, living on a 200 acre farm just outside of New Haven, CT known as Edgewood. The farm then became the subject of much of his writing.

Jennifer Snyder works with oral history interviews at the Archives American Art. When not sending interviews out for digitization, she is writing about extraordinary examples of facial hair for this blog.

Beards of Note: Louis Lang

I recently read about a new beard style that is taking the world of facial hair by storm: The Monkey Tail, A Beard. So I got to thinking, if this beard had existed in the 19th century, how many artists would have adopted the style?

Simulated 19th Century Monkey Tail beard, as modeled by the author of this blog post.

Louis Lang, ca. 1860. Miscellaneous photographs collection. Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.

Perhaps American painter Louis Lang (1814-1893) would have. After his death in 1893, The New York Times labeled Lang an eccentric in an article about his will. I can certainly picture him sporting The Monkey Tail—can you?

See several of Lang’s paintings on The Metropolitan Museum of Art’s website.

Jennifer Snyder works with oral history interviews at the Archives American Art. When not sending interviews out for digitization, she is writing about extraordinary examples of facial hair for this blog.

The Camera Does Lie

Fact and Fiction in a Famous Photo

Paul Cadmus, Jared French and George Tooker, 1948. ©George Platt Lynes II

On view in the exhibition Lost and Found: The Lesbian and Gay presence in the Archives of American Art is a photograph by George Platt Lynes taken between 1945-48 of the painters George Tooker, Paul Cadmus, and Jared French in a studio in Greenwich Village. In the foreground Cadmus is in the midst of painting What I Believe, an allegorical picture that, like Lynes’s photograph itself, conjures up an ideal artistic community.  (It is currently on view in the exhibition Hide/Seek at the National Portrait Gallery.)  Behind him, in the next room, is Tooker at his easel, and in the far distance is French. 

Lynes’s picture seems to reveal three kindred spirits harmoniously working in harmony.  The only problem with this utopic vision is that, as Tooker wrote me in a letter, the photograph was a fabrication; Tooker never made art in this studio which was shared by Cadmus and French.  And yet knowing the fictive nature of the picture does not so much negate its message of artistic community, as make it more complex.  Any concept of community has to encompass shared aspirations and disappointments, conflicts and compromises, intimacies and betrayals. 

Above all, Tooker’s disavowal of the picture makes us wonder about the precarious position he found himself in that day, consciously posed by Lynes between two older and more experienced artists as if he were a bridge or barrier between them.  In fact, Tooker was Cadmus’s current lover, but Cadmus had been lovers with French and, despite French’s recent marriage to the painter Margaret Hoening, Cadmus and French continued to be intimate (supposedly Cadmus once boasted “I had Jerry in the daytime and George at night.”) Apparently neither Tooker nor French were as enthusiastic about the arrangement as Cadmus later claimed to be.  Tooker remembered that French refused to shake his hand when they met for dinner in public. Yet, as Tooker himself admitted to me, French’s painting was as crucial as Cadmus’s in forging Tooker’s own personal style.

This story about Lynes’s photograph is a perfect example of why archival material such as artist’s letters are so crucial to the history of art.  Without Tooker’s recollection of the circumstance of the taking of the picture we would assume that Lynes’s photograph documented the actual working habits of the three painters.

Artist and art historian, Jonathan Weinberg is guest curator of Lost and Found. He plans to donate his letter from George Tooker to the Archives of American Art.

Halloween Costume Guide: Archives Style

S. Fullerton (Spencer Fullerton) Weaver invitation to Mary Fanton Roberts, 19--?. Mary Fanton Roberts papers, 1880-1956. Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.

Judging by its invitation, this costume party was an event not to be missed. Hosted by architect Spencer Fullerton Weaver, it was likely attended by a glamorous and bohemian crowd.

I certainly would not turn down a party promising a “crazy costume dance.” I would, however, hesitate on what to wear. With Halloween approaching, I looked to the Archives’ collections for costume inspiration.

L’Artiste

William Merritt Chase in his studio, ca. 1910. Harriet Blackstone, photographer. Harriet Blackstone papers, 1864-1984. Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.

For starters, why not go as an artist?

In this photograph, William Merrit Chase dons the accoutrement of an academic painter. Chase was well regarded for his impressionist paintings, but his career as an art instructor also impacted generations of young, aspiring artists.

In 1898, he founded the Chase School of Art, now known as Parsons The New School of Design (yes, the Parsons of fashion fame).

To transform yourself into an acclaimed artiste, you’ll need a white smock, palette and brushes, and pince-nez.

Make it work!

The Victorians

Charles Sheeler and Marsden Hartley studied under Chase during the early 20^th century. Both artists were significant American modernists, although you wouldn’t be able to tell by these costumes!

Musya and Charles Sheeler arriving at a Victorian theme party, 1947 Oct. 16. Oliver Baker, photographer.  Charles Sheeler papers, circa 1840s-1966. Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.

Sheeler’s paintings and photographs conveyed modernity with stark and precise renderings of industry. In 1927, the Ford Motor Company hired him to photograph their cutting edge River Rouge factory in Dearborn, Michigan. But in this photograph, Sheeler ditches a Ford Model A and opts to take a horse and buggy to a Victorian-themed costume party.

Requirements for Victorian revelers: petticoats and corsets for the women; top hats and frock coats for men. Bonus points for arriving in a horse and buggy.

The Arabian Prince

Marsden Hartley in costume at the Society Arts Ball in Paris, June 1913. Unidentified photographer.  Rockwell Kent papers, circa 1840-1993. Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.

Marsden Hartley was a peregrinating painter who spent time in Maine, New Mexico and Western Europe. Although he never made it to the Middle East, he wore this Arabian Nights costume to a Society Arts Ball in Paris.

To resemble Sinbad the Sailor, you’ll need: beads, Hammer Pants, and a flair for the dramatic.

The Gunslinger

Jackson Pollock dressed as a cowboy, ca. 1927. Unidentified photographer. Jackson Pollock and Lee Krasner papers, circa 1905-1984. Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.

In this snapshot of painter Jackson Pollock harkens yet another time and place: the Wild West.

When this photo was taken, Wyoming-born Pollock was just a teenager, but his independent personality was evident.  By the late 1940s, he was notorious for both his poured paintings and his volatile personal life.

To become a lonesome cowboy, you’ll need a cowboy hat and boots, toy rifle, and rugged swagger.

The Glitterati

If you would like more glam than grit in your costume, look no further than two of the glitziest artists in our collections, The Rhinestone Cowboy and Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney.

Loy Bowlin, 1991.  Chuck Rosenak, photographer. Chuck and Jan Rosenak research material, ca. 1987-1998. Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.

Folk artist Loy Bowlin is best known as the Original Rhinestone Cowboy. This look was not a costume, but the outfit he would wear any day of the week. Boylin, standing on his porch in Mississippi, bejeweled his clothes, house, and even his Cadillac.

To pull this off, you’ll need to invest in a serious Bedazzler, but the efforts will pay off when you sparkle on the dance floor.

The Glamazon

Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney, ca. 1890. Unidentified photographer.  Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney papers, 1855-1975. Archives of American Art.

Artist and founder of the Whitney Museum of American Art, Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney embodies free-spirited glamour. A sculptor in her own right, she also patronized many of the leading and emerging American artists of the early 20^th century. She also had a talent for accessorizing beautiful dresses.

In order to achieve that artsy Vanderbilt look, you’ll need lots of flair: feathers, tiaras, broaches, and gems. A Bedazzler wouldn’t hurt for this one either.

Happy Halloween from the Archives of American Art!

Mary Savig is a curatorial assistant at the Archives of American Art.

Mustaches of Note - John White Alexander

John White Alexander, 1882 or 1883. Napoleon Sarony, photographer. John White Alexander papers, 1870-1942, Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.

This portrait of John White Alexander haunts my dreams. I think it must be his eyes. Or perhaps it is his mustache.

Alexander was best known for his portraiture work; these paintings can be found in museums all over the United States. I particularly like Portrait of Mrs. John White Alexander, 1902.

From 1905 until his death in 1915, he painted an amazing 69-piece mural, The Apotheosis of Pittsburgh, around the grand staircase at the Carnegie Museums. Read more about the mural here.

Jennifer Snyder works with oral history interviews at the Archives American Art. When not sending interviews out for digitization, she is writing about extraordinary examples of facial hair for this blog.

100th Digitized Collection Online!

The Hiram Powers papers have become the 100th fully digitized collection available to researchers online as part of the Terra Foundation for American Art Digitization Project.

Hiram Powers with sculpture bust of the Roman goddess Proserpine, ca. 1861. Hiram Powers Papers, 1819-1953, Hiram Powers papers, 1819-1953, Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.

Andrew Jackson letter to Hiram Powers, December 7, 1835, Hiram Powers Papers, 1819-1953, Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.

American sculptor Hiram Powers (1805-1873) was born in Woodstock, Vermont, and lived and worked briefly in Washington, D.C. and Boston, before settling permanently with his family in Florence, Italy.

Powers is known for his portrait busts of prominent American politicians, including Andrew Jackson, and his idealized neo-classical sculptures, most notably the Greek Slave. He and his family were active members of the intellectual community of American and English émigrés, and his studio was also a frequent stop on tourists’ visits to Florence.

This historically rich collection contains 10 linear feet of correspondence between Powers and family, friends, and business associates from 1819 to 1883.

Included are fragile but invaluable copies of Powers’ outgoing letters, which were created by a process of placing moistened paper in a press. Besides details of his studio work and business dealings, his letters often discuss his views on aesthetics, American politics, slavery, the Civil War, and Spiritualism.

Other treasures in this collection include Powers’ studio notebook documenting his work from 1841 to 1845; poetry written by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, John Quincy Adams, and others in praise of his sculpture; and 267 cartes de visite and cabinet card portraits of artists, performers, politicians, writers, scientists, and other public figures, many of whom were friends with the Powers family. Some of these photographs were taken by his son, Longworth Powers, who had a private photography studio in Florence.

Erin Corley is a processing archivist at the Archives of American Art.