FUFTIETH AVNYIVERSARY EXNIBITIOD OF The ART STUDENTS: LEAGUE of Dew ork | IAD -22nd-CO FEB 25d- oa THE ART STUDENTS’ LEAGUE OF NEW YORK Fiftieth Anniversary OF The Art Students’ League OF NEW YORK S 215 WEST 57TH STREET JANUARY 21st TO FEBRUARY 2ND pith ESS CONTENES e PROGRAM THe Art STUDENTS LEAGUE An Experiment in Democracy by Allen Tucker THe Earty YEARS OF THE LEAGUE 1875-1879 by James E. Kelly 1879-1881 by William Henry Bishop 1881-1884 by Ella Condie Lamb FRIENDS OF THE LEAGUE THE ACTIVE LEAGUE INstRucToRs 1875-1925 Boarps OF CONTROL 1875-1925 se THE GETTY CENTER' te/, a5 49 61 64 PROGRAM oF WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 21 Jubilee Dinner to Instructors and Boards of Control since 1875 THURSDAY, JANUARY 22 Opening Reception of 5oth Anniversary Exhibition Fripay, JANUARY 23 Pennell Etching Night Monpay, JANUARY 26 Fakir and Beaux Arts Night WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 28 George Luks Will Paint a Celebrity FriDAy, JANUARY 30 League Night LADY IN GOLD - Thomas Dewing ak, ak, ak, ak, ak, ak, ak, a y N > NW HN NH POH Y x ars tenn Leo LIDEN ES LEAGUE An Experiment in Democracy By ALLEN TUCKER IFTY years ago a small group of men and women did the only thing in the world that is worth while; they did the impossible. Without influence, with- out money, without a building they started the first independent art school in this country—The Art Students’ League of New York. They did not begin by begging or seeking help, they just went ahead themselves, taking what rooms they could afford and paying directly for the instruction. They made a school entirely independent, entirely free— free of control, of advice, of obligation; the sort of school they themselves wanted. They hired the teachers they thought well of. It was a school made by students, supported by students and managed by students. Truly an original idea, and an idea that if it had been submitted to business men or to educators would have been laughed at; but these people had faith. They had what must always exist previous to accomplishment, a belief in the thing before the proofs of the thing are possible. This belief has since been justified, for now after fifty years the school that they made is still going forward, is still governed as it was at the start, and is still a success. The League is composed of members, and any student in the school is eligible for membership after he or she has worked for three months in a life class. Every year these members elect a board of control, a president and officers. A certain number of the passing board holds over to ensure continuity of policy, but practically the board may be renewed every year by the mem- bers; and a majority of the board must be students actually working in the school. The board controls everything, policy, money, business matters of all kinds, hires the teachers and rules the student body. YVONNE BARRIERE - Exgene Speicher The best people in the League have always given their time (for they work without pay) to the board. There have always been plenty of unselfish men and women, or rather boys and girls, for many of them would be so considered, to do the work; and board after board has acted with the single-minded purpose of running the League as effectively as possible in the cause of art, and keeping it untrammeled by anything or anybody. Order is kept without rules and without visible authority by the good sense of the student body. It has always been possible to get able people to teach. There is a long list of artists, all of whom, past and present, felt I am sure that to be on that list was to be on a roll of honor. The teacher is allowed the same independence as the stu- dent; once hired, on a yearly contract, he is given a studio and in that studio is master without interference of any kind, free entirely as to his aims and his methods. The class elects its own monitor and administers its own discipline. The League runs its own lunch room for the students, and also a supply shop where they may obtain paints and materials. The charge for instruction has varied but little in spite of the increased expenses and higher prices of the past years, still there is a good balance on hand in cash, and they own the largest share of the Fine Arts Building, the other two holders being the Architectural League and the National Academy of Design. When one thinks of the vision and courage of that handful of workers anxious to get in this country, what until then could only be obtained in Europe, one is very proud of them and of the League which they founded. Several things that were deemed too difficult by many have been accomplished in the half century of work by the League. Artists have proved that they can handle affairs with entire capacity, that they can keep the power from getting into the hands of either cliques or of self-seeking individuals, and that they can maintain a calm and reasoned balance of mind, for one of the remarkable things has been the attitude shown by board after board. With the many movements of artistic style and the constant change of these so live and splendid years, the League 9 smopjag a340a) + AVANNS ATI has never lost its head. There have always been men as instruc- tors of different leanings, so that a student has been able to get the strictest so-called classic training and at the same time in other classes has been able to find teachers of different attitudes. Beside freeing themselves from outside influence, the found- ers freed themselves from the bondage of degrees. They just made a place where people could come and study. The student paid for a month or for a year, and then studied pretty much as he pleased. No attendance was required, no examinations were held, and he was given no certificate of proficiency, he was left to come and go, he was his own master, he had no nurse. The road to art was long and desperate, no one cared if he walked it or not, if he wanted to walk the League held out every pos- sible help, but it was entirely in the hands of the individual what use was made of that help. Therefore a body of students has grown up who really go to school for no other reason on earth than to learn, and they work as people nowhere else work, as men and women work for the sake of really knowing, with no certificate and for no reward. The League has never turned itself into a trade school, it has never catered to material advantage, it has dared to stand for the brightness of pure learning against the waves of vulgarity and greed. It has never found it advisable to keep athletic teams, it has seen no need in building stadiums to advertise, it does not turn out yearly crowds of graduates with a few thin initials to cover their essentially ignorant attitude toward the important things of life. The Art Students’ League has held fast to the ideal, it has chosen and pursued the difficult thing, it has refused the easiest way. Fifty years ago these people jumped the matter that later caused so much excitement in the outer world, by giving not only the vote but also places on the Board of Control to women. The League has avoided all the evils of the trustee system, has avoided being governed by a self-perpetuating group of men, sometimes well meaning, sometimes self seeking, often old or out of touch with the matters over which they hold control. The League is not governed from above, and there 1s nobody Il HEAD OF LINCOLN + Axgustus St. Gaudens partly outside to make rules for its mental, personal or spiritual well-being. Old people simply will not believe in the capacity of the young, and one of the accomplishments of the Art Students’ League is to prove to all men that the young if let alone can make, can finance and besides can create for themselves a school that has a quality that is not always found in other places. The League has at different times refused offers of endow- ments and so has maintained its independence. Many organiza- tions at their beginnings have got an endowment from some man seeking to perpetuate an unknown name, who for the money he gives is apt to hold some kind of a grip over the unfor- tunate institution, which begins with an endowment before there is anything to endow, and proceeds to erect buildings before there is anything to put in them. I first knew the League after I had graduated from a Univer- sity, when it was housed in East Twenty-third Street over a livery stable, and even now the smell of manure carries with ita certain odor of artistic sanctity. As I had never drawn I went into the preparatory, then under Twachtman, and for the first time in my life really worked with enthusiasm. The whole place was full of busy people coming and going as they pleased under no visible authority, but there was a relentless drive to the place that I had never before felt anywhere. For the first time it was put squarely up to me to learn, not to make the teacher think that I had learnt, not to pass an examination whether I knew anything about the subject or not. I was let alone without hav- ing attendance and deportment marked, without being spied upon, I was treated in short, with confidence and respect. The League was a place to work, and a great man came twice a week to help you with that work. It was, of course, good fortune beginning under Twachtman, for not only was he one of the great men of his time, but one of the best teachers that ever was, somehow instilling into people the idea of the greatness and nobility of the thing called art. I went through the school from the preparatory to the life classes, served for a while as an officer, and now have the honor to be an instructor, so that I really have seen the institution 5 from end to end; and, looking at it from either end or middle, it is an institution for which I havea high regard. The League seems to be a successful experiment in real democracy, and one must seek a reason for this success in the face of so many comparative failures of the democratic system in other efforts at government. In other trials of this system the advance seems to be made by individuals working in opposition to the mass; and valuable movements seem to be caused only by the higher and more intelligent units persuading the mass to think or to vote as they should, but in this case we have a success initiated and carried through by the mass itself. I think the reason must lie in the composition of the mass; other.democracies are just crowds of human beings, “‘mostly fools’ as Carlyle says, but in the League in the first place, the average intelligence 1s very high, and secondly all are working for the same purpose. They are single-minded, they are all moved by the desire to improve themselves in the calling they have chosen, and to further this desire it is the effort of all to have the school just as good as it can be. They are not working to advance themselves, there is no materialism, no possible reward. Art is a high spiritual endeavor. It is not an accomplish- ment, so much as it is an aspiration, and certainly while they are students, men and women work only from the purest and noblest motives, so that all interests are the same, and with the high development of the individual it becomes easy to see how, for once, democracy has created and achieved without waste and with success. Also, one must consider that in an art school the basic idea is creative, helping people develop their creative faculties, in distinction to schools of other kinds where the dominant note is acquisitive, where people go to be taught facts. In one place people go in order to learn how to give out; in the other they go simply to take in. In one they learn to do; in the other they learn what others have done. The attitude of the League that knowledge ts a real internal thing, and the class of student is responsible, I think, for the success here of what is pretty much of an elective system, where oo) elsewhere that system does not always produce the best results. Art is one of the few things the nation lives by, one of the few things that survive on earth, one of the few things we are now rightly judged by and by which our place among nations will eventually be reckoned. For fifty years the Art Students’ League has stood, secure in its liberty, doing a positive thing, a purely immaterial thing, helping people to improve themselves, help- ing them to learn the technical things necessary to the practice of their profession, and more than that, helping them to see the vision, to understand the power of that thing, that is so mys- terious, so magical, that thing called Art. 16 Y SOR Ww S RR SVR SR SOR SOR freee ny YEARS OF THE LEAGUE 1875 TO 1879 By James E. Ketty ROFESSOR WILMARTH, on the evening of May 24, 1875, while sitting 1n the third alcove of the Old Academy of Design, in 23rd Street, giving one of his genial talks, suggested that we organize a so- ciety for mutual help, by forming a sketch class— collecting costumes, buying books of reference, and such material as would help us in our art studies. He also suggested that we decide on a small sum for dues, but that if any member could not pay, his dues should be over- looked. His ideas and suggestions were received with enthusi- asm; various proposals were made by students, but nothing was decided upon, as so few were present. Professor Wilmarth proposed a committee to call an early meeting of the students, and meanwhile that the society be called ‘“The Art Students’ Union.”’ Glancing over our group, he named Carl Hirschberg, Theodore Robinson, then he hesitated and added, Kelly. Hirschberg then invited Robinson and myself to meet at his house in a couple of days. We called one sunny afternoon and discussed the proclama- tion, which Hirschberg wrote out. They hesitated about who should sign it first, so I took the pen and put down my black scrawl. Their signatures followed. We pasted it on the bulletin board of the Academy, and awaited results. The proclamation aroused such interest among the students that we had a large attendance the next afternoon, June 2nd, many of the girls being present. The name‘ Art Students’ Union’ was criticised as not being individual. Several other names were proposed and rejected, when Hirschberg called out—‘‘League’’—*‘Art Students’ League’’—this was approved by all. ue OOV SUYVAA ANOS ANOVAT AHL LV As I was no longer needed as ‘‘a whipper in’’ for the com- mittee, Professor Wilmarth substituted Charles Vanderhoff. He was an architectural draughtsman, careful and methodical, with a good business training. His qualities were a great asset for the League. The committee hired a small studio on the top floor of Weber's piano warerooms, on the south-west corner of 16th street and Fifth Avenue. It was formerly the operating room of Gurney, the famous photographer. The gallery was about thirty feet square, with a skylight running almost the full length. As our money was restricted, we hired only half the room, and divided it by a flimsy partition. As new members joined we soon had enough income to hire the other half of the room. Our action caused great indignation at the Academy. We were outlawed and they announced we should never get back without an ample apology. Many Academy students would not join. One, being asked, said, ‘I will wait until I see how you get along first.’’ Later, joining, he became a most notable member. Edwin A. Abbey and myself had a studio together at 35 Union Square. He naturally got interested in the new League, as many of the students called upon me to talk it over. I do not recall if he joined it, but I remember his being there and making sketches. | At that time Abbey was very young and very boyish look- ing. He worked extremely hard at illustrating for small prices from “‘Scribners,’’ with which he helped support his father’s family. Although I had no official position, I must have been pretty active at the League business, as I find among the letters pub- lished in the Life of Abbey that he writes to Lowe of the days he and I were together in 1875. ‘‘The truth ts, Jimmy Kelly was active about that time in getting up the Art Students’ League, and he and Joe Evans, and one or two more, would hold caucuses, business meetings, etc., in the corners in a whisper, which finally got a bit too thick.”’ As I look back I realize it must have got on his nerves, but I 19 OOV SUVAA AWOS ANOVAT AHL LV never suspected it till I saw it in his letter. He was one of the kindest, most considerate, generous fellows I ever met, and in all the time we were together we never had a wrangle or misunder- standing. I never saw him “‘petulant.”’ Shortly after the organization of the League, Theodore Robinson called at our studio to bid me goodbye, as he expected to sail for Europe next day and gave me his photograph. I took him on the roof, and we dangled our legs over the edge, while we watched the firemen’s annual manoeuvres before the review- ing stand on 17th Street. The spirited horses as they dashed up and down with their glittering engines flashing through the swirling clouds of black smoke, made a thrilling and dramatic scene. Robinson laughed, and rattled his heels on the coping. I do not recall who suc- ceeded him on the committee. The Board of Control by this time had hired the rest of the floor, and Professor Wilmarth started a portrait class, which he taught in his thorough, academic manner. His method can be judged from the fact that he generally made his criticisms, and punctuated his remarks, with the point of a small pearl-handled penknife, which he held between his forefinger and thumb. And yet he was broadminded, honest and just. I talked to Abbey about the new painting class. He asked, Poti soiicre promise to teach your “Yes, I replied. “Then go down and ask him to do it,’ he urged. Abbey then bought me a fine box of paints and other materials, and I went to Homer, and reminded him of his offer. ‘Oh, yes, ’ he said, “when do you want to begin?’ “‘Now,’’ I answered. ‘‘Oh, you do,”’ he laughed, and taking a fresh can- vas started to set his palette, explaining each stage, then wheel- ing round, he would level his black eyes upon me, and say, ‘Do you understand?’ “‘Yes,’’ I answered. ‘“Will you ever forget?”’ he asked. ‘‘No,”’ I replied. And so he went on painting and repeating his questions, and I my answer, till the painting was finished. Then with a final sharp look, and the question, “‘Do you understand?’’, and my answer, “‘Yes,’’ “‘Will you ever for- get?’’, and my answer, ‘‘No,’’ he added, ‘‘When you want any- thing more, come back.’’ aa OOV SUVAA ANOS ANOVAT AHL LV I thanked him and took my box of paints up to Wilmarth’s painting class, with my brain full of Homer's ideas, and my eyes full of the fresh, vigorous stroke of his crisp brush work. I then started to block in the portrait of the model. Professor Wilmarth came round, and looking at my start, said, ‘Kelly, your work is very affected.’’ At which some of the students laughed and called it “‘oilcloth.’’ But in my mind’s eye I only saw Homer at work. The next criticism day the Professor came round, looked at my work a long time, then turned and went off without a word—the students continued guying my work. The third time he came around, he looked at my study for some time, then earnestly said, ‘‘Kelly, if any one should ask you to change your style—don't do it.”’ Professor Wilmarth was the first President, with Edward Prescott as Vice-President. Prescott was, I believe, a business man and an amateur. He was a good looking fellow with whis- kers of the Dundreary pattern. He served one term, then returned to his home in Washington. He was gracious and capable. Mrs. Julia Baker as his Associate Vice-President, represented the lady members. She was large, handsome, rosy-cheeked; with an assettive nose, and a bustling manner which made her person- ality felt, and assured her popularity so much so that she was elected to her office for four terms. In fact I have heard her called the ‘‘Mother of the League.”’ Winslow Homer was the first one I recall to recognize us. One afternoon I saw him sitting in the rear line of students at the sketch class, making a study. I told him I had just seen his famous painting, “Prisoners from the Front.’’ He answered, ‘Tam sick of hearing about that picture.’ I now understand, as it was continually quoted at the expense of his other works. At the first meeting of the sketch class it was Miss Helen Abbe’s turn to pose. Her sweet, Priscilla-like face I recall as she stood with downcast eyes against the gray background of the partition. Miss Abbe used to come accompanied by her brother, Rob- ert, a slim, dark young man. One evening as I addressed him as “Mr. Abbe,’’ she said to me, smiling, “‘Heisa doctor now.” I = OOV SUVAA ANOS ANOVAT AHL LV congratulated him on what proved to be his first step to world- wide fame as a surgeon. W. W. Shelton was another conspicuous member—an artist as well as writer. His special appeal to me was that he had been an officer in the Civil War, and had retained a distinguished bearing. That he was a graceful horseman, was another attrac- tion. Jennie Brownscombe was also one of the founders. Miss Helen de Kay who became Mrs. Richard Watson Gilder, and Miss Maria Oakey, later Mrs. T. W. Dewing and Miss Miles, also wete interested in the classes, a Charlie Mente, who was a chum of mine at Harper's. Of course, Joe Evans was conspicuously zealous in the inter- ests of the League. The roofs were in bad condition. On rainy days the skylight leaked. Our only help from the agent was pails. During one severe storm the dropping water so annoyed the sketch class that Joe got up, carefully emptied the pails of water into the large cracks in the floor so that it ran down on the pianos stored below. The skylight was repaired immediately. ‘Thayer has painted my portrait,’’ said Joe in after years to me. ‘Asa likeness it is startling,’’ he added. I saw the portrait in the Metropolitan Museum. It was 1n- deed startling. It was Joe himself—but Joe, in his maturity. How I wished Thayer had painted Joe when I first knew him. He was then very young; less than four feet high, with soft golden hair, fine as a little child’s. His eyes were brown with a wistful expres- sion that pervaded his pure, refined, spiritual face. But this look came over it only 1n the company of his most intimate friends. To the world he was as bright, busy, and active as a humming bird; but when challenged or assailed by the would-be *‘smart- ies,’ his retorts were piercing, and made them feel like the Irishman who grabbed a bumble bee which he thought was a humming bird, and wailed, “What hot fate the little creature's ot. Iam glad to see that Ellen Terry has, in the goodness of her heart, endeavored to do what she could in her memoirs to em- balm the memory of dear little Joe. ae uvujqwny, *{ - YaWWNAS Joe had the delightful gift of being a hero worshipper, which was responded to in full by his heroes, as they all returned his affection. He had an eccentric way of entertaining his friends at his home in 36 East 31st Street, where he had a long studio on the top floor, as his parents humored him in everything. When I called one day after a long absence, he placed a pis- tol in my hand, then uncovered a target. I blazed away at it un- Mieiecmretica tice pistol. “That's fine, Joc,’ I said, “give me some more cartridges.’ ‘‘No,’’ he answered, “‘I never treat my friends to more than three shots.’’ These he gave them instead of cigarettes. In his work he was most delicate, like a pre- Raphaelite. In fact his sister told me he spent an entire summer painting one little tree. But under this mild exterior seethed a tragic soul. Maria Oakey, later Mrs. Thomas W. Dewing, was looked upon as a distinguished student on account of her work being exhibited in the Academy, and attracting so much attention for its broad, vigorous brush work, and rich, glowing color. She gave the impetus of her prestige to the new League. George Inness, Jr., joined us a little later, and was quite a power in the success of the League. Charles Melville Dewey had been an assistant teacher to Wilmarth at the Academy, and was one of the founders. I do not recall if he held office. Although I used to see Miss Jennie Brownscombe when she caine to Harper’s Art Department, and as a student at the Old Academy, I always visualize her sitting at her easel—working— working, ceaseless and untiring. The outcome was a series of paintings and etchings, showing the halcyon days in the home life of America. This same quiet, resolute quality, she continued in her work as a founder of the League. About this time several of the Munich men came back. Among them, Chase, Dielman and Shirlaw. They attended our receptions, and were received most enthusiastically. Arrangements were made with Chase to give us a talk. I recall his appearance distinctly, but not what he said. 27 HEAD OF GIRL - Jacob Epstein He was slim, quite pale; with a longish pointed beard; bristling pompadour hair. He talked with diffidence, but must have been convincing, as it was acclaimed by all present. The tide of his brilliant reputation rose rapidly, sweeping everything before it. He inspired great enthusiasm. Reynolds Beale told me that Chase's talks gave dignity to art; adding: ‘‘Before I heard him I looked on painting as [ would sewing. After hearing him I wanted to become a painter myself.”’ When we met he was very friendly—invited me to his stu- dio, and told me his ideals and hopes. He also showed me among his other works, a study of what he proposed to paint—‘“‘Col- umbus before the Council.”’ Later he took charge of the painting class, but I did not belong to the League at that time. Among all his works, I admire most his portrait of my dear little friend Alice Gerson, whom he afterward married. C. Y. Turner was a very earnest worker in the League's interest. He was quiet, low voiced and retiring and although very busy, he did not figure until later, when he taught the women’s life Class and in 1884 became President, succeeding St. John Harper. Walter Shirlaw took the painting class after Wilmarth. He was tall, dark and lean—a sort of sinuous Lincoln. His brush stokes were of the same character. His method of painting was of great benefit to some of the students, who put on their paint as the old woman buttered bread for her boarders. She began with a pound and ended with a pound and a half. He also taught how to lay on paint in a manner that insured its brilliancy. I. W. Taber, was also a member and brought in his cousin, Charlotte Ewer, daughter of the Rev. Doctor Ewer. She was bright, energetic and talented; and with Joe Evans did a large proportion of the work necessary to run the sketch class. While her chum Helen Hubbard, with her refined and glow- ing beauty, was not only a drawing card on her turn to pose, but a constant target for the students to aim at when they were supposed to be working from the one on the model stand. 29 MOTHER AND FATHER - Irving Wiles Dennis Bunker was a picturesque member. Very handsome, as well as extremely gifted. He died very young. His noble por- trait of his wife in the Metropolitan Museum is their enduring monument. Robert F. Bloodgood also served notably as Vice-President twice, and for some time as Secretary, with Bleecker N. Mitchell as Treasurer. Frank Waller was President in 1877, 1878 and 1885. He was a fine, big, blond bearded fellow, with a comfortable, good- natured voice. He attracted many friends, as was proven by his repeated elections as President. He was an architect as well as a painter. Added to this he had business training which finally led him to incorporate the League, on February 8, 1879, when he was Secretary, and wrote “A Report on Art Schools for the League.”’ F. S. Church was Vice-President of the League in 1878. He had just come from the West. He had served in the Army during the Civil War. He had a fine, noble brow, and bold, strong fea- tures; brown hair and moustache, was tall and broad shoul- dered; had small, delicate, shapely hands and talked with a slight western intonation. For some reason I was elected or appointed to an office in the League. I really forget what it was. Its duties did not weigh very heavily upon me; for one day while I was standing with a group of my friends in the portrait class, Church swaggered in with his hands in his pockets and drawled out ‘‘Kel-ly, you don’t want that office of yours, do you?’ ‘‘No,”’ I called back. “AU right,’’ he said, rolling away, “‘I’ll get somebody else.’ I was thus informally reduced to the ranks. J. Scott Hartley was President, 1879 and 1880. I cannot re- call anything relating to his administration, as we were such great friends, and I saw him so often, I never thought of him as an official. When I was an apprentice at wood engraving, I was sent to his studio. That was my first meeting with him. He was a handsome young fellow. Blonde, curly hair and beard; large blue eyes; red cheeks; delicately modeled features; a fine type of an Anglo-Saxon youth. Fred Juengling, the great wood engraver, joined the League, 31 UPSLOW HYYIYAL > SANTA DUNASMOIA and became a most fervid student. At the time, he lived in Mel- rose; and after a hard day of racking strain, he would ride down to the League, and put in an evening of intense study, as he al- ways worked under full steam. These were the days when the journeys had to be taken in the horse cars; when, in snow storms the car had left the track, the drivers would ask the men passengers to get out and boost it again; but nothing could dam- pen the enthusiasm of ‘‘F. J.”’ One afternoon a strange student attracted me, and we had quite a talk. He gave me his name as Wm. H. Bishop. Ina day or so he handed mea paper called the ‘‘Milwaukee Times,”’ say- ing: “I see they have published an article on your work in my paper,’ but added with a smile, ‘‘I am not responsible for this.”’ This led to our friendship. I learned that he was writing for the ‘Atlantic and Scribner’s.’’ Later he won the highest praise from Howells for his exquisite English in his many successful novels. He afterwards became United States Consul, at Genoa and Palermo, Italy. In the course of time I began to hark back to the Old Acad- emy to see the drawings of my friends who still worked there. I also met some of the younger students. Among them, Miss Laura Opper, Miss Fannie Lee, and Miss Ella Condie. Miss Condie joined the League about the time my connec- tion ceased. She there met, among the most active students, and later married, Charles R. Lamb, who has become noted for his ecclesiastical art work, and for his many contributions to mu- nicipal beautification. Mrs. Lamb distinguished herself as a painter, and in co-operation with her husband in mural work. 333 EXTRACTS FROM Aj» EE TIER ERG WILLIAM HENRY BISHOP My experience in the early days of the Art Students’ League —it was in the year 1877—remains always a very bright spot in my memory. The League was then housed in one of the fine, large brown-stone mansions typical of New York of that period. It was the corner of Fifth Avenue and 16th Street; still a part of the choice residence district of the city, and the Brevoort House, a little to the south, was the most select hotel of the town. Hence it was a pleasant quarter to which to turn one’s steps. i went to the Sketch Class daily at 5 P. M. The students used to take turns in posing for the class, generally getting themselves up in some easily arranged costume. Students, and young instructors, who were just emerging from the grade of students, were pretty well mixed together in the class. I remember especially the broad shoulders of F. S. Church at his drawing board in front of me, whose dreamy maidens and fantastic birds and beasts made mythology and fairy-land almost real. Wm. N. Chase who had just come back from abroad and had sold one of the best pictures he ever made, ‘Ready for a Ride,’ to the Union League Club. There comes back to my mind very distinctly Mrs. Richard Watson Gilder, wife of the noted poet and editor, who had a very high and serious ideal of her art, and was a leading influ- ence in the League. Only a certain few figures here emerge from the dimness of all those past years. There came and went in the class, Shirlaw, Dielman, Will H. Low, Abbey, Wyatt, Eaton, St. John Harper, Burns, the marine artist, W. H. Shelton and James E. Kelly, now the sculptor, then the illustrator, I mention him as an irrepressible part of the life of the League. His genial good humor by no means interfered with the startling power of his draftsmanship. These, or some of these, then beginning, became great names to conjure with, and rose to the most distinguished heights of their profession. 34 ak, ak, ak, a ak, ay, al, a ak 1881 TO 1884 By Exta Conpiz Lams ART Of the activities of the League were the monthly exhibitions of the work of students, members, and instructors, always opening with an evening recep- tion. To me, a young student from the Academy, it was very thrilling to attend these, to see the work, and perhaps meet some of the delightfully enthusi- astic and inspiring men and women who had started the school, the teachers, or guests. In the Fall of 1881 I followed the lure of the fresh, young art, and although the careful academic work at the old school was invaluable as a base, at the League I found freedom and enthusiasm which were also invaluable. The League was then housed in the two upper floors of a building on the southwest corner of 16th Street and Fifth Ave- nue; one floor for the antique, and the top floor for life and painting classes. The building was about thirty-five feet wide, and on the top floor were two large rooms, a smaller one, and the office, where one usually found either the Secretary, R. F. Blood- good, or the Treasurer, B. N. Mitchell, for there were no paid assistants, except Thomas, the faithful janitor. Pi The membership that year was 110; the number of students at work 325. Every one worked intensely and with a single pur- pose; to fit oneself for a life work. Many were earning money during a whole or part of the day, in order to study in one or two classes, perhaps only the night life. 7 In Mr. Wm. M. Chase’s class we were started at the skull, for construction, then the model, with soft charcoal as a pre- liminary to paint. Kneaded rubber was then unknown, so we used bread for erasing, and every morning I bought a loaf (gra- ham, with toothsome crusts, in anticipation of the three o'clock hunger.) The floors became covered with crumbs and pellets, and os) J. Alden Weir WOMAN KNITTING the moment the rooms were empty, before Thomas appeared with his round Irish face and his brown, large tame rats emerged from behind the stacked up stretchers for their evening meal. As an alternate with the model, Mr. Chase made still life artangements from his own collection of draperies, copper and brass. He introduced us to ‘“‘Hunt’s Talks on Art,’’ which we carried around like text books, and his own talks were equally stimulating. Always immaculate, with spats, and black rib- boned eye glasses, he would seize someone's palette and work for an hour, with the biggest brushes and great globs of paint (but never a dab upon himself), while we watched breathlessly. This “fine frenzy’’ of his, has been perpetuated in Sargent’s portrait. He made us acquainted with Millet, and the Dutch and Spanish masters, through photographs he brought to the class; Cl knew nothing about the ‘“‘primitives’’ until I got to Europe) for at that time we had almost nothing to look at in New York. A few pictures in the Lenox Library, a few in the Historical Society, (provided one could get cards from a member) some in the Metropolitan Museum, then occupying a small building in West 14th Street. There was an occasional good, modern picture at one of the two or three dealers, when we all flocked to see and study, and the annual shows of the Academy and the Water Color Society. There were also Chase's copies in the wonderful studio in toth Street, which we were invited to visit on Saturday after- noons,—the studio of many memorable portraits—the studio where Carmencita danced—with its white cockatoos and grey hound, as well as the smaller room for serzous work. J. Carol Beckwith had the antique and the men’s, or as it states in an old circular, the ‘‘gentle men’s’’ morning life class; Waiiaimesartain, the men's night life; and C. Y. Turner; the women’s life, in the afternoon. Less picturesque than either Chase or Beckwith, he was sturdy and sincere and gave us good sound instruction. The walls were hung with life drawings sent back from the foreign schools by Siddons Mowbray, Kenyon Cox, and others. At four o'clock came the sketch class, when we posed for each other in the life room, and mingled in delight- ful comradeship. sie THE WASTE OF WATERS IS THEIR FIELD - Albert T. Ryder ? There was little Clara Weaver, Clater Mrs. Parrish,) from Alabama, she managed to cover herself, as well as her canvas, with paint, but the result was strong and vigorous, and we knew she would win success. Wilhelmina Hawley made the first cos- tume owned by the League—it was of green velvet. Tall Rosalie Gill, who died too soon. Louise King, who became famous as Mrs. Kenyon Cox, and Adeline Allbright as Mrs. Wiegand. Edith Mitchell and Henry Prellwitz won their laurels together. Rose Clark hers in Buffalo. It is impossible to mention all. Perhaps the one best known and loved among the men was little Joe Evans. There was Dan Beard, famous now as the fore- most Scout,and writer of books on the ‘Great Outdoors,’’ Dick, Fred and Charles, the three Lamb boys, Frederick Juengling, the engraver, with his shaggy mane of hair, and dear Allen Red- wood, from Virginia, with his southern drawl, and his thrilling tales of his experiences in the Confederate army and Henry Snell from England. Theodore Butler, tall, slender and romantic, went to France and married Monet’s daughter; he returned later to New York, not quite so slender. George Traver, and Edward Dowdall, breezy and clever. Ed. Deming, from out of the west, destined to preserve the Indian Life in many pictures and decorations. “Bunny’’ Davis, now well known for his paintings under his real name of Warren B.; Rudolph Bunner and Philip Hale, and in the sketch class, Oliver Hertford; J. Sanford Saltus was then merely a rich amateur, but later known as a most generous art patron. There were also evening lectures. Thomas W. Dewing, just back from Paris, on composition; J. Scott Hartley, on anatomy; Frederick Dielman, on perspective, and three or four special and inspired talks from George Inness, Sr. From England came the great Hubert Herkomer, to paint portraits and gather in Ameri- can schools. Healso talked to us. Tall, his skin dead white, with black eyes and straight hair that hung, intensely black, over his forehead, compelling, hypnotic—until he aroused one’s antag- onism. We all felt a personal responsibility for the success of the school and became interested in its policies, and in the Board of Control, for then as now, it was run by students at work in the i) JOE EVANS - Alfred Q. Collins classes, who after three months in the Life Class, were eligible for membership. At that time Wm. St. John Harper was Presi- dent, and there were two parties, the conservative, represented by a few older men, and almost all the women; the radical, by all the rest of the men, and a few younger women; each mis- trusted the other, and the monthly meetings saw many a hot and strenuous battle of words, but as Joe Evans was usually present, hostilities were averted by his kindly spirit and sense of humor. In the summer of 1882 the League was obliged to move toa building in 14th Street, between 5th and 6th Avenues. It was filled with hairdressers, chiropodists, and all sorts of commercial businesses, but we had the much needed larger rooms and fine skylights, which the school built. The necessary building plans were contributed by the father of one of the girls, Leopold Eid- litz, the prominent architect, and carried out under the direction of the chairman of the building committee, Frederick Juengling, the wood engraver who gave his summer to it. Here Walter Shirlaw took the women’s life class, and taught us his theories of line and movement. And here we held the first costume party, in the winter of 1883-84, followed in the Spring by another far more ambitious. We did not call them dances, or do much dancing, because we spent most of our time admiring each other’s costumes—all either genuine or carefully copied from period or character examples which we made ourselves, even the boys constructing splendid ones. The walls were hung with borrowed rugs, tapes- tries, etc., and all this resulted in affairs of great beauty and dignity, also notable as the occasions when Chase did his re- markable “‘living portraits’ picking people from the crowd, and in a few moments posing them under a strong light behind a frame stretched with gauze. Lillian Bayard Taylor was a magnificent Brunhilde, Ernest Major resplendent as Siegfried (the ‘“‘Ring’’ had recently been given for the first time in New York.) Dick Lamb was a pirate, his brother Charles copied his costume from Howard Pyle’s “Robin Hood,’’ and was a beautiful foil in his green leather jerkin and long bow, to Lisa Stillman in a Juliette dress, pink 41 MAN IN SPANISH COSTUME - Frank Duveneck with flying ribbons, that had been Modjeska’s; she came with: Mrs. Richard Watson Gilder, who wore a French period cos- tume and powdered hair, while Mr. Gilder came as a Japanese warrior but the armor grew burdensome, so he discarded it, and retained only the helmet, from under the wings of which his thin, sensitive face peered incongruously. Joe Evans was a perfect Millet peasant, beret, sabots with straw, a blue blouse covering his back. There was a group of Tadema girls, another of Japanese Shirlaw, long and lithe, was a marvelous, idealized, Cooper Indian, a truly noble ‘‘red man,”’ but not realistic enough to please some of the western boys, who came in their cowboy suits. Turner was ‘“‘John Alden,’’ the plain, simple brown coat and white collar, exactly suiting his squate head and reddish beard. Then in the dark doorway appeared Chase, always effective, clad in a Dutch Burgermas- ters suit of silver grey plush, a big white ruff under his pointed beard, ruffles falling over his jeweled fingers, which rested on the head of his big grey hound. Harper was succeeded as President by C. Y. Turner. In 1886 came the election of Charles R. Lamb, the youngest President the League had had; he carried it through a financial crisis and moved it up to East 23rd St., remodeling an old piano factory there into large studios. Here he started a modeling class, and persuaded Augustus St. Gaudens to become its instructor. The League was steadily growing, and by this time was upon a firm footing. But I had bidden farewell to the school in 14th Street, and departed for London and Paris. 43 CARRIE - Wm. M. Chase Pesos OF THE LEAGUE Jor Evans A flower, by accident crushed to earth, battling upwards to the light and still giving forth its fragrance, is the thought that comes with the name of this frail, slight, beautiful personality. A conscientious artist, whose training and advice were at the aid of every new follower of the art he loved. To all who knew him, memory will not fail. To those of the younger generation who did not, we who loved him will pass on the word. ‘Death only comes when forgetfulness begins.”’ In the light of such statement the immortality of Joe Evans ts assured. SUGAR Hees Those of us whose student period came somewhere between 1900 and 1918 in Fifty-seventh Street feel that ours was the rare experience, and that to us was given the special boon of know- ing ‘Carrie.’ Mrs. Carrie Riebling came to the League origi- nally to preside over the Lunch Room, to cook. Before long her great genial expansive personality had enveloped the institution and she became Regent, never forsaking for a moment her duties before the hearth but at the same time acting as Counsellor, critic, matchmaker, adviser, politician and mother to all. One is told that marriages are made in heaven; there is no record of just how many were made under Carrie's watchful eyes in the League Lunch Room. 3 Never since have there been such meat and potatoes, such soups which magically contained a little of everything good, such golden crusted honey dripping baked apples. Upon food like this students went forth to conquer. Among the Immortals stands Carrie. To us she was, as the Spanish phrase goes—the very Mother of good, a real friend, a comforter, a great human. 45 PARC EN AVIGNON - Joseph Pennell Miss G1LLEN Miss Gillen, whose death last January followed two years of serious illness, came to the League in 1905. Starting work at the information desk, she later occupied the position formerly held by John Davern. Her fifteen years of faithful work at the League were appreciated by all who were connected with the school during that time, and her death following Carrie’s slightly more than a week was another loss of a tried friend. Muss MERSEREAU During the past year Miss Mersereau has retired, due to ill health. Coming to the League nearly twenty-five years ago, she began her career here as assistant to Miss Gunn. Following this she assisted William St. John Harper and Eugene Cramer who acted in the capacity of Director of the League. When the latter position was discontinued, she became Secretary, and as such was known to thousands of students of recent years. Her friendly nature kept her in touch with those who had gone out of the League as well as those who were in it and her office was always sought out by old students, hungry for news of former companions. She is affectionately remembered by all of us who have known the League during the last twenty-five years. ©. GSD 47 ASS Sd 2 EE pes S ‘ uo oe WSS Sine EN = ie Se e- sod | 1e% : 1 /ec(( OMS — aA = 20 he Peas | VWs (al) HN) Wale ~ Wy: ry é ‘o*eeD VNe ec aare Perr < Sree aCOV yy P, yA GeS \ ( A) _ e AS , & * : Rd « . See 2 = N ie . a Hy, 4 ¢ * , ve % ‘ e