’ , MASTERPIECES OF * AMERICAN PAINTING MASTERPIECES E OF AMERICAN PAINTING A SELECTION OF PHOTOGRAVURES w J AFTER PAINTINGS EXHIBITED AT - THE ROYAL ACADEMY OF ARTS BERLIN 1910 WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY CHRISTIAN BRINTON, M. A., ‘ AUTHOR OF “MODERN ARTISTS” NEW YORK BERLIN PHOTOGRAPHIC COMPANY FINE ART PUBLISHERS ianA-mr\;-,.T‘m .;,,- ,. J. THE EDITION .OF THIS WORK IS STRICTLY LIMITED AS ’FOLLOWS: FIFTY COPIES ON JAPANESE HANDMADE PAPER, NUMBERED 1 TO 50 AND TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY - COPIES ON DUTCH HANDMADE PAPER, NUMBERED 51 TO 300. BESIDES TEN COPIES FOR PRESENTATION ONLY- THIS COPY IS N2 SEE—“‘15: OF THE EDITION ON DUTCH HANDMADE PAPER V MAM . , .. ”I , . , _;A . .7». .n ,.,_...,5.;..:_ .415; 353*”. ' INTRODUCTION he day of intellectual and artistic reciprocity is manifestly at hand, and no two nations better illustrate this mo$t enlightened of modern cultural movements than do Germany and America. The recently established system of exchange pro- fessors is already producing admirable results, and there is every reason to hope that a similar situation may obtain in the sensitive and persuasive province of the fine :arts. In the field of the intellect the equilibrium between the two countries has been moderately well maintained. The majority of American college professors have studied and taken. theirdoctorates at various German universities, and Germany has in turn given the States a brilliant succession of high-minded thinkers as well as sterling patriots. In matters esthetic, however, the balance has by no means been so carefully adjusted. For numerous reasons Americans are more conversant with German art than are Germans with the American product. Many of America’s foremost painters have been trained either at Dusseldorf or Munich and have taken back with them Teutonic sympathies and certain scrupulous technical methods which have not been without influence upon the native school. There has furthermore been for generations a public eager to possess examples by the leading German masters of the day, and, in addition, the expositions at Chicago and St. Louis measurably advanced a knowledge of the subject. All this has nevertheless been in a sense circumstantial and even accidental. The first conscious and deliberate move toward establishing artistic reciprocity between these two great "nations, both so progressive, and so legitimately ambitious, was made last season when there was held at the Metropolitan Museum in New York, at Copley Hall, Boston, and at the Art Institute of Chicago a notable display of contemporary German art. It was this latter event which more, than anything increased current American interest in TeutOnic achievement, and which, in large measure was responsible for its logical sequel— the recent exhibition Of American painting in Berlin and Munich, so efficiently and so successfully organized by Mr. Hugo Reisinger of New York. ~During many arid and dubious years there was no such thing as American art, and later it was so tentative in quality, and so slender and widely scattered in quantity, [that its ,very existence was barely recognizable. The geographical isolation 'of the country, the stern problems of early conquest and self preservation in a new land, and the long period of enforced provincialism each rendered the evolution of esthetic expression both difficult and precarious. After painting in the Colonies may be said to have gained a footing, its leanings were naturally toward the English school, and subsequent influences save for a brief interlude have been almost exclusively French. It is impossible rightly to estimate the development of painting in the United States without some knowledge of the grim and hazardous early struggles which were its prologue. It is necessary first and last to remember that the country was, and still is, devoid of artistic formulae. There have never been in the States any fixed esthetic standards. There is no such‘ thing as indigenous native art, nor has the progress of painting in America followed a consistent, logical line of development. From the outset it has been an arduous battle. Conditions have been the reverse of propitious, and one circumstance after another has conspired to retard spontaneous racial expression. Fundamentally, Colonial painting was a transplanted product. The early limner took nothing from the Indian nor had the Indian of the North much to offer. The difficulty all along has been the total lack of a substratum of primitive esthetic tradition. America wasforced to begin at the top instead of starting from the bottom. Art had to be brought overseas in place of springing fresh,and strong from the fertile fancy, the deep rooted sympathies, and the deft, patient hands of simple folk. It arrived brand new and ready made from English or Continental atelier and academy rather than struggling upward through the ages from wayside cottage or hut among the hills. This has clearly been the chief obstacle toward the achievement of a personal, organic, style. Instead of relying upon her own resources American painting has constantly \ been forced to [seek assistance from without. And yet althOugh it has taken over a century to acquire a characteristic artistic physiognomy " there were always gleams of hope and promise. Behind this or that, foreign mask, beneath accent French or dialect Bavarian, could be discerned qualities which are to- -day counted as specific and individual. It is moreover obvious that matters could hardly have progressed much faster. Manifestly a social expression, American art, like that of Europe, or the Orient, could not attain national significance until the Ainerican himself had advanced toward more pronounced definition of type. The history of art» is in; separably interonen with the history of social evolution, and nowhere is this more apparent than in a new country such as the United States Whose entire esthetic programme covers but little over a century of activity and whose art has been so dependent upon external conditions. There are few things more absorbing than to note how, in the face of conflicting currents, with scarce a vestige of inherited basis, and without, even to this day, the slenderest modicum of official patronage, American painting has yet managed to achieve its present position. It is important to recall at the outset that the art of the dependent or Colonial period was entirely English. It was not among the thrifty Dutch traders of New York, nor the aristocratic cavalier settlers of the South, that painting secured her first foothold in the new land, but among the Puritans of New England and the sturdy Quakers of Pennsylvania. The early craftsmen were British by birth and training, the first of note to cross the water being John Smibert, a Scotchman, who had been a fellow student of Hogarth in London. It was a world of personal hardship and moral rigor which confronted these pioheers of the brush and palette, and they practised their profession with not a little of the forbidding asperity and lack of grace which characterized their surroundings. As Smibert, who left behind him a long succession of likenesses of the leading worthies and divines of the time was the first foreign painter of merit in the Colonies, ' so John Singleton Copley was the earliest native born artist to attain distinction. Copley was a portrait painter of no small power. His methods were simple, virile,_ and sincere, and his work, before he left Boston to make his home 1n London, forms the initial chapter, and a significant one it is, in the artistic annals of his country. 'Contemporary with Copley was Benjamin West, who was born in Pennsylvania, and whose life was so glorified by romance and crowned with honors and Success , . r . ._ 7 , r_*'7‘" ~ —‘ __ . H , an . . _-.I._A ”gram. ,_ _ ,1, . , _ . .__ “$5“ Jami. , 7‘37; gnu-9 .9; 1.. MJ.“ mu.mwy:‘,.a§w¥w Winnie-'4‘: J,.“ueg£&®&w’MZ/¢ *HWgfi—w’e “*1, £»-'; , > . V H ,_ , _ __ K , , . .. . __ ,,_, ._.-»»» m . gun... W ‘4‘: 7,, V .. . “a, .,. a. ‘4. 7 ~- that his example did more than that of any American of the day to turn the eyes of the young nation toward the appeals of art and the artistic career. Like Copley, West, too, settled in London, where he became the 'official historical painter to George III and one of the founders and first Presidents of the Royal Academy. Earnest and high minded as these men, together with their colleagues Matthew - Pratt and Charles VVillson Peale, unquestionably were, they cannot be considered painters of the first rank. One is bound to admit that their hard won triumphs belong rather to the domain of ethics than to that of esthetics. An unflinching fidelity to fact characterizes the spirit of COpley’s work, and an uncompromising resolve to teach some exalted moral lesson, or arouse some lofty sentiment, is equally manifest in the otherwise vacuous and antiquated canvases of West. They were both essentially English eighteenth century painters. Copley was a rigid and Puritan Gains: borough, and West an even more than ordinarily verbose and rhetorical Reynolds. The first artist worthy the name in the precarious progress /of American painting was Gilbert Stuart, and even to this day he has remained unsurpassed fOr charm and spontaniety of manner and freshness of coloring. There was nothing of the prig or preacher about Stuart. Art, not morality, was his chief preoccupation. He flitted through the world leaving behind him wherever he went a legacy of debt and fascination. He was a born painter; he laughed at the pedantic incapacity of West, and blithely evolved his own technique with its incomparable surety of stroke and delicately vivacious flesh tints. His art will ever wear the priceless bloom of youth. He had but one serious ambition, and that was to place upon living record the features of the Father of his Country, and in orderto accomplish this, he reacrossed the ocean, settled in Philadelphia, and painted Washington at first hand, thus forever placing the nation in his debt. Gilbert Stuart left no pupils of promise, and the secrets of his fresh and spirited palette were soon lost amid the conflicting tendencies which followed the Revolution and the subsequent decline of the British school. After the War, whose graphic historian was the irascible and painstaking Trumbull, _ American artists began to look further afield. Allston went to Rome and was '— forever tormented by the greatness of Raphael and the grandeur of Michelangelo, and Vanderlyn, the first and one of the foremost figure painters the country has ever produced, lived and studied for several years in Paris. Yet it was not until after the War of 1812 that American art finally outgrew the English influence, and even then its traditions persisted awhile longer in the work of such men as Sully, ' Harding, and Inman. VI ' Although the nation had previously received official baptism, its existence was more or less problematic until this second and decisive defeat of the British forces on land and sea. It was then that national consciousness became crystallized, and it was then, and not till then, that art began to free herself from subserviency and gather strength for future conquests. Throughout all channels of activity the dawn of a new era was felt to be at hand. Painters flocked homeward from foreign lands to enrich the cause with knowledge and taste gleaned abroad. Academies and schools were founded, and everyone looked forWard to a glorious period of esthetic as well as political, territorial, and material expansion. Yet as far as art is concerned, these high hopes were not to be realized. Cut off from the lingering grace and elegance of loyalist days, and receiving little encouragement from a society ‘ devoted to the sterner problems of eXistence, beauty became a pathetic exile in this new and aggressive community. . ,. ‘ ' , -; . dif'fifefirfi‘ .__,;‘ , __ ,. Mrflwrm; ~34 _ ,. . {.,.D‘?-nm,.;.“ur~~..; ,, «nu-b“ ‘ -“ ‘-’.‘ -' .2, e»_ a.» ~ -' name”... ,Lnr , .' The Colonial period was succeeded by a period of unredeemed provincialism. There was little or no systematic training to be had. Many of the best talents began as sign painters, and art was a vagrant craft practised by men who wandered afoot from town to town over vast stretches of unsettled country. The exalted dreams of Allston evaporated in the sterility of a New England studio; Vanderlyn died a bitter and disappointed seeker after that which he could never find, and Chester Harding remained to the last a crudely equipped backwoodsman., It was not through the portals of the. grand style, nor from. the gilt frame of portraiture, that the new manifestation was to emerge, but in a far humbler and more modest manner. Art cannot be forced, she must be coaxed, and it is precisely this which certain quiet spirits were already doing. The germ of progress lay not in ambitious projects whiCh through adequate technique were foredoomed to failure, but in the simple, reverent love of that which the eye could see and the mind grasp. It was in the field of landscape that the native painter revealed the first signs of independent \ vitality, and it is significant to note that landscape remains to-day the crowning glory of American art. ‘ Just as the early portrait and figure men had begun as house, coach, and sign painters, so the evolution; of landscape was brought about by men who had been in, their younger days journeymen engravers. The first in point of priority was Thomas Doughty; the one whose work displays the most truth and solidity was Asher B. Durand, and the one who best combined observation and allegory was Thomas Cole. -By the side of these worked Casilear, Kensett, the brothers Hart, and a host of others whose names have been beneficently relegated to the limbo of oblivion. The scenes of their literal and scrupulous transcriptions w‘ere chiefly the Hudson River, the Catskills, and the White Mountains. Possessing common aims and painting similar subjects they gradually [developed into a well defined school. A few went abroad and returned with faint echoes of the divine serenity of Claude, or the diluted romance of Lessing and Schirmer, but for the most part their work was wholly American in feeling and technique. The movement achieved its apogee in Church, Bierstadt, and Moran, who, fired by the midcentury rush toward the Pacific Coast, shifted the scene to the West and concocted vast panoramic and topographical compositions revealing the distant wonders of the Rocky Mountains, the Yosemite, and the Yellowstone. Judged by m'odern standards there was scarcely an artist among the entire group. Despite the huge dimensions of many of their canvases, their methods were myopic and constrained. Every detail of rock or foliage was minutely emphasized. There was no attempt at synthesis. The facts were there but the transfusing magic of the Spirit was sadly lacking. Cole and Church alone showed flashes of emotional penetration, but even they evinced more patience than passion. And yet the vogue of these men was incontestable. They appealed to vague sentiments of poetic grandeur and national pride. They found ready appreciation with a naive and uncritical public, and for the moment their prestige totally eclipsed other forms of artistic endeavor. Still, the fact cannot be overlooked that kindred branches of painting were being cultivated With no small degree of success. Historical panegyric found a worthy exponent in the German born Emmanuel Leutze, and native genre disclosed in Mount and Edmonds men whose canvases radiate rich, warm coloring and a wholesome, racy sense of observation and character. . Already there had been hints of further development, of a wider outlook for American art, and with the advent of Fuller, Hunt, Inness, and La Farge, was ushered in , d7 - W » ~ -»~ - -~-r_-'A :» . ”A m _.._.1, ‘-4...u._r,_...z.. .1... .«. . -_‘ s , '-» - ' "r . - » ., ~ : . “Mr“ - "w .7 ' " » . ' ,...._,, . . , .-,., . _ _ ‘1, _ _ - .._ . 4mm...m Feud—Wm ”WraraawzhInwvmflzrjtfii;‘b«=;‘.m2ryh ;:*—rmxa_’.'4 rgrmrh . what may be termed the transition period. Like all epochs of the kind it was marked by hesitation and uncertainty. Promise far outran performance, and yet these men stand as the heralds of the new movement, the precursors of that art which forms the basis of present day achievement. They were the true pathfinders. They all studied abroad, and from the ateliers of Paris and the brown fields of Barbizon there came,‘vthrough them, the impetus which was so completely to regenerate American painting and lift it from the narrow confines of an isolated and provincial product. It Was the Frechmen of 1830 with their profoundly moving fusion of romance and reality who thrilled. into being the first American art to merit the name. The eloquent afterglow of . Delacroix as it filtered through the studio of \ Couture, and the resolute draughtsmanship and homely sincerity of Jean-Francois Millet, acted like magic upon the awakening sympathies of these young men from overseas. The first and last of the group — Fuller and La Farge — were fated to fulfil special functions in the fostering of native taste, while to Hunt and Inness fell the lion's share in the work of revolution and reform. ’ If Durand and the early landscapists with their explicit and reverent nature worship suggest the poetry of Bryant, George Fuller is the Hawthorne of American figure painting. Fuller 1s assuredly one of the most subtly romantic and appealing apparitions -in the annals of his country’s art. His life was one of renunciation and of triumph long held in abeyance. Before he had‘ barely started he retired to live upon a Massachusetts hill farm only to emerge from sixteen years’ seclusion one of the few masters of form and sentiment his nation has produced. Although out of touch with his colleagues, he nevertheless kept pace with them and even surpassed them in the modernity of his caressing, spirit-born technique, and tender, psychic evocation. The career of William Morris Hunt was vastly difierent from that of the modest, solitary Fuller. Of commanding, magnetic, personality he was the chosen spokesman of the new gospel of artistic autonomy. He went abroad young, passing briefly through the sterilizing exactitude of the Dusseldorf manner and the coloristic romance of Couture, and reaching therfinal phase of his apprenticeship in his long association with the sober apostle of the Fontainebleau peasant. It was the spirit of Millet which he took back with him to New England, and, although he never produced anything of primary importance, he was a remarkable preceptor and a fruitful source Of inspiration in others. Hunt'was the first American to appreciate ease and suppleness of handling. He was the implacable enemy of the metallic touch of his predecessors, and under his assaults the shackles finally fell from the wrists of American art leaving her free to attempt whatever she saw fit. The work which Fuller and Hunt accomplished in the domain of figure painting was more than duplicated by George Inness in the province of pure landscape. Inness is the master emotionalist of American art. Into his views of mountain, hill or meadow, he breathed a poetic exaltation wholly new to his day and generation. He Was the initial exponent of mood in American landscape. Temperamentally he offers a curious combination of the logical and the lyrical He began a specialist in specific observation. He ended a supreme synthesist of nature’ 5 innermost meaning. There can be no question that Inness owes his artistic insight to the Barbizon masters. ' His work expresses their credo and perpetuates their traditions, yet it 'is not a mere transplantation, but something which in its higher manifestations becomes individual and inspirational. No consideration of Inness, however brief, would be complete WithOut reference to his successors in the field, Homer D. Martin and Alexander 2‘ i i4 3- .3 mas—mg“, n. m... ',..:4A«:1.-» m. LNsnr-J‘ac. ”Vii. . , _ mm... .W_._v,._.~....~ m... 1 ‘g ' l H‘. Wyant, each of whom carried still further the emancipation of American landscape _ from the rigid constriction of the past. Martin is the more powerful and elemental of the two, Wyant the more intimate, tender, and poignant. With his brOad simplicity of structure and draughtsmanship, and deep sense of nature’s solemn immensity, Martin stands as one of the enduring masters in the onward march of the landscape art of , his generation. In method, if not manner, he is also one of the early harbingers of impressionism. \ ‘ - The serious and austere style of Martin finds its complementirr the lyric quietude of Wyant whose story is one of constant hardship and suffering, and whose only surcease was found in his art, the practice of which he began late in life and whose secrets alternately baffled and inspired him to the end. Like Martin, his color range is restricted, but out of those yellow golds, soft, rich'browns, and silver greys, he evokes as few have ever done, the true spirit of place, the sense of a nature portrait at once permanent and personal. It is these men who raised landscape painting above all other forms of American art. They began timidly and clumsily, but they started on a sound and intelligent foundation. ‘Slavish exactitude as well as the panoramic viewpoint gave place with them to facts seen at close range yet subjectively. They no longer _ attempted to depict all nature but only such fragments of her as appealed to their ' several moods and temperaments. Together with their comrades abroad they established for once and all the principle of selection, the validity of individual choice, and in so doing paved‘the way for all subsequent progress. _ The last of what may be termed the initiators of the new movement, John La Farge, and the only one who is still living to-day, presents a decidedly more complicated case than do the others. Of pure French parentage he is not, ethnologically speaking, an American, though his life has been passed in New York and his work forms an intregal part of the cultural history of his country. It is important to note that these transitionists were thinkers and reasoners as well ‘as creators, just as certain ‘of the primitives, notably Fulton and Morse, were men of science and invention. Inness was an ardent theologian, Martin a remarkable talker, and La Farge indulges in fine spun speculation regarding the oneness of all esthetic expression. He professes to believe in the co-ordination of the various arts, and quite inevitably his practice of them has been marked by asingular and fascinating eclecticism. PossesSing wide and responsive sympathies, familiar with the work of all landsand all periods, harking now to the mystic murmur of the Orient and now to the mellow voice of the Renaissance, he has remained throughout his career an inspired experimentalist. There is in all he does an incertitude which is at once its chief charm and its chief defect. This master of many media is a subtle, tantalizing harmonist who stirs the soul with infinitely complicated strains but who never breaks into clear and ringing song. In the final analysis of all his efforts whether in mural decoration, stained. glass, water colors, or oils, he ranks primarily as a colorist. If Hunt gave the struggling artistic brotherhood of the day freedom of technique, and Inness and his followers the precious legacy of personal subjectivity, it remained for John La Farge to instil into their pallid beings the cult of color. It was not color in the ‘\ modern, chromatic sense of the term. It was decorative color, but, judging from that which was previously in favor, it was a sadly needed element. There is no further necessity for considering American art retrospectively. The bridge between past and present has been crossed. The contributions of the men just under discussion bring the story down to to-day, and the forces which now become operative 19 are linked with those which obtain throughout the art of the leading European countries. The period of provincialism has been passed with difficulty, but safely, and American painting herewith enters the broad avenue of so-called cosmopolitanism. There are, however, a few such men as Whistler, Winslow Homer, Albert P. Ryder, and Ralph A. Blakelock, who have remained outside the ordinary channels of development.» They are the independents, of American art, the solitary and questing individualists who are, at least, superficially, subject to none of the prevailing rules. It should be unnecessary to consider in detail the first of these. The persuasive and insinuating art of James Mc Neill Whistler attained maturity on the Continent, and, in its '— extemal aspects, is Wholly the fruit of European influences. Its creator flaunted internationalism inthe face of the public. He. promulgated the insidious theory that art has no country, yet all the While he was producing work which, psychologically at least, is the quintessence of the American yspirit. With Whistler painting becomes the reflex of a highly keyed intellectual organism. While his manner is almost steno— graphic in in its nervous brevity, at heart the man is a visionary and a transcendentalist. He rises above the material and m0ves in a dim and appealing kingdom of suggestion, a. world of half lights, of subtle hints and intimations of infinity. His faintly vibrant canvases seem actually to live; they are parts of that eternal mystery which pervades all things. Though the genius of Whistler has many sides and many different affiliations, when it attains its supreme expression, as in the portrait of his mother, it is undeniably American. _It has here the economy of statement, the Puritan restraint, and the spiritual significance which must be associated with the Emersonian cast of thought. Do not be deceived by the volatile exterior of the man’s personality and his incessant artistic experiments. Beneath the surface lie a continuity of structure which is scientific in its precision, and an incomparable esthetic sensitiveness. His art is an art of nerves and of mind. It is fastidious in its exclusiveness. It represents the principle of selection carried to an almost perilous extreme. The complete surrender to the spirit, the ultimate suppression of all the richer and more robust qualities which stamp the later work of Whistler finds its pronounced. antithesis in the rugged, home—bred genius of Winslow Homer. Just as one is an imperiOus assertion of‘the aristocracy of choice and treatment so the other is defiant in its democracy. If George Fuller suggests Hawthorne, Winslow Homer’s literary equivalent is surely Walt Whitman. There is in the work of Homer a racy Americanism, a wholesome, elemental force now rising to heights of positive grandeur which has no parallel in the entire range of his country's art. Homer is indigenous. He has never studied abroad, is wholly self taught, and has worked out his' salvation, alone and unaided. \Winslow Homer’s art must be studied in terms of his own personal character. Unlike so many of his fellow craftsmen he does not sentimentalize in paint. He is terse, often brutal in hisvutterance. Although he perhaps gives his farmer, his huntsman, and his sea faring folk something of the majestic simplicity of Millet, he is devoid of commiseration and social pity. His art is naturalistic. He recalls in many ways the bull-necked peasant of Omans. It is Courbet, not Millet, whom he most resembles. There is no such trenchant and vigorous page in the annals of American painting as that which has been furnished by the brush " of Winslow Homer. He is the slave of no school, he exults in his own strength and scorns that lyric effeminacy from which certain of those about him are by no means free. Although during a long and active career he has touched a wide variety of theme, it is in his marines that he reaches his climax. He here shows the bigness of vision, the breadth of handling, and the fundamental earnestness which make for really great art. Winslow Homer is to-day an embittered and laconic recluse living on the storm-lashed coast of Maine. He is one with sky, and wind, and sea — with those elements which he knows so well and depicts with such masterful power and certitude. . ' It is a decidedly more remote and fantastic world into which the spirit-haunted vision of Ryder, and the sumptuous, heavy-toned harmonies of Blakelock lure us. . In certain respects they are the most pronounced individualists of the group, yet they each failed to achieve distinguished expression through an insufficient grasp of technique. They differ as much from one another as from their associates. Ryder glories in imaginative themes and richness of surface; Blakelock places Monticelli— like figures under the massive, autumn tinged oaks of Rousseau. Yet such work, despite its fitful magic, belongs to the by-paths of art, not to those bread channels of normal development which must ever be kept in mind. , We are now familiar with the chief protagonists of American 'painting during its transitional stage, though it is necessary, in passing, not to neglect the work of Eastman Johnson in the field of domestic genre and that of Thomas Eakins in the domain of the realistic likeness. The landscape art of to-day which spreads. its beauty and sensibility before the eye in such seeming complexity, divides itself upon analysis into two distinct phases. It is either tonal or impressionistic in its proclivities. It is the continuation, on one hand, of the Barbizon tradition, which had its origin in the English art of the beginning of the last century and the Dutch school of the seventeenth, and on the other it owes allegiance to the modern disciples of prismatic color -— to Monet, Pissarro, Renoir, and Sisley. In the province of the portrait, matters are less complicated, for the leading contemporary American artists in this line practise the method triumphantly inaugurated by Carolus-Duran, and ' to-day so brilliantly exemplified by'John Sargent and his pendants. The latest tendencies of American painting, the most significant of which has been the gradual ascendency of technique, were not, as may well be inferred, the gift of a day. American art of the present owes its position largely to the unprecedented social, material, and intellectual advancement of the country at large. Following the Civil War came the second great quickening of the national consciousness along all lines‘ of activity. The Union had been preserved, prosperity became almost universal throughout the land, and the mind instinctively turned to higher things. ' The Philadelphia Centennial Exposition of 1876 and the founding of the Society of American Artists in New York the following year are the important events of the period in the chronology of American art. With the increase in wealth and the improvement in the facilities of transportation, bands of enthusiastic young men now began to go abroad and storm the foreign ateliers and schools demanding instruction. The vanguard went to Munich, a few scattered individuals to Antwerp, Dusseldorf, or London, and another and far larger contingent chose Paris. They were younger than their predecessors of earlier days and thus more responsive to the formative influences about them. A few elected to live and paint abroad. Marr settled in the Bavarian capital, Melchers and Hitchcock in Holland, Shannon in England, and Dannat, Harrison, and others in France, but . for the most part they returned after longer orshorter periods to take up the struggle amid the unpropitious atmosphere of their native country. For a time the Munich men headed by Chase and Duveneck held the balance of power and exerted the widest influence. They' were free, brilliant draughtsmen and affected the warm, dark, tones so beloved by the Bavarians of the day. Although Chase remained for over a generation the militant figure in American art, the direct influence of the Munich men was only temporary. It was not long before the Paris trained talents asserted their supremacy, and from this date onward the gracious stepmother of American painting has continued to be the city by the Seine. , Despite technical and temperamental affiliations with French art, the growth of a national spirit has year by year gathered strength and decision. At the Paris Exposition of 1889 it wasthe Americans living and painting abroad who won chief honors and the larger measure of critical approval. The Exposition of' 1900 witnessed a reversal of- this situation, for not only did France but the general public recognize the superior vigor and integrity of native effort. Flattered by their early successes and not insensible to the leisured ease and charm of their surroundings, the expatriates have in certain cases proved a disappointment. That they have done excellent work cannot be denied, but they have lacked the wholesome stimulus of adverse conditions. It is the men who, after serving their apprenticeship in foreign atelier and academy, turned homeward to face opposition and hostility who have shaped the destiny of contemporary American art. . 7 In the field of landscape the oldest of these, including Minor, Tryon, Ranger, Dewey, Davis, and Murphy, together with certain of younger men such as Crane, Ochtman, Foster, Dearth, and Dessar group themselves logically among the tonalists. Their art is a frank appeal to sentiment. It continues, with inevitable variations, the broad tradition of American landscape which originated with Doughty and Durand, which was given emotional unity by the Barbizon masters, and which has taken only enough freshness from the modern palette to save it from anachronism. There is nothing violent or decisive in the work of these men. It is pacific enough to satisfy the most shrinking soul. . More elegiaic than lyrical, it celebrates in softly modulated accents a stretch of autumn wood, the setting of the sun behind a dark rim of hills, a moist moonrise over' a lonesome bit of moorland, or the purple stillness of a, twilight snow scene. It is a reverent tribute to the past, this art. It is an attempt to revive and to keep alive states of consciousness which have long been forgotten and outgrown. Psychologically it represents a protest against the increasing materialism of the day, a desire to escape from, rather than boldly to face, the noisy glare and , ceaseless hurry of contemporary life, and this is perhaps why it enjoys such vogue. It cannot be denied that these men, though so reminiscent and reposeful, are true and sincere nature poets. They know and love the themes they so persistently repeat, and this soothing iteration finally ends in complacent acceptance. A logical pendant to this group, though specifically belonging to the category of figure painters, is Horatio Walker, who chooses the primitive appeal of life among the French-Canadian peasantry. An earnest, self-taught man and a warm, mellow colorist, Walker, in his scenes of farm and field, continues that pastoral strain which has long enriched art with its directness of purpose and large, deliberate passivity. There are echoes of Millet, of Troyon, and of Israels in the work of Walker. His art is assimilative rather than ' creative, but it tells its story with a sincere and determined nobility of statement. The work of the foregoing men assuredly lacks the vitalizing magic of direct, outdoor observation. Most of them‘ paint in their studios instead of being surrounded by the stimulating sparkle of sun and sky. The temptation to overpoetize has not always been resisted, and in place of wholesome reality they areprone to give us an emotional 1:21;» ‘fmzz;_‘-w;”r~ "v.5. A an... Vflsv‘nnfl...» _. 4..— W.-NW.~._ -M--,<_¢, ,- 0 ' pap—r 1 l I . »l i l “a...“w,’ . WM... up.-. , .. and pictorial convention. The palette constantly needs cleaning, sentiment must have its corrective, and this has happily been accomplished by those apostles of impressionism who studied in Paris during the late seventies and early eighties and returned home to risk malcomprehension and ridicule in its practice. The first American impressionist, and in many respects its boldest and most concise disciple, was Theodore Robinson, whose all too limited contribution remains one of the glories of the new movement. It is, however, the society known as the Ten American Painters which has' done most for the cause, and whose members have forced at least a partial acceptance of their theories upon a none too receptive public. Yet it must not be assumed that American impressionism is identical with French impressionism. The American painter has accepted the facts, not the form of statement. He has adapted the prismatic analysis to local conditions of color, light, and atmosphere, and gradually evolved an independent technique. Only one American artist, Hassam, has gone as far as Monet, and he is to-day the complete arbiter of his own beautiful and vibrant color . appositions. In addition to Hassam the leading exponents of this new and invigorating gospel of light and air are Weir, an older man who has passed with distinction through many transitions, Metcalf, the exquisite lyrist of the group, Reid, who has brilliantly applied the principle to decorative figure composition, and the late John Twachtman, to whose delicate pink, mauve, and violet improvisations has been added something of the subtleabstractness of the Japanese manner. Associated with these men in the general ’aim of giving truth and vitality to the modern palette, and members of the same society, are the BostOn painters, Tarbell, Benson, and De Camp. It is to the lamp and firelight reflections and broad outdoor effects of Besnard that they attach themselves rather than to the tremulous atmospheric triumphs of the master of Giverny. They are adept, facile workmen, and display a wide variety of choice. Tarbell gives to his New England interiors something of the pellucid luminosity of Vermeer, and to his portraits singular verity and freedom of observation and handling. Benson’ 5 white frocked young folk bathed 1n full sunlight have that moral inviolability and fresh, physical attraction which is so appropriately American, and De Camp pauses midway between the‘ solidity of the Munich manner and the dexterity of the later Frenchmen. That they display, on the whole, more craftsmanship than conviction, is not a matter entirely to be deplored, for they have done more than any set of men toward revealing to the public the possibilities of modern technique and in proving the necessity for real, painterlike qualities in every branch of their art. To these names must be added another, that of a woman - Miss Mary Cassatt — who is to-day the most distinguished American impressionist. Long a resident of Paris, and a former pupil of Degas, Miss Cassatt composes boldly in broad, flat color spaces and draws with splendid power and purity of outline. Her art celebrates but one theme, the endearing beauty and intimacy of motherhood, and 18 unique in its surety, its sincerity, and its strength. Although the true distinctions in painting are those of manner and method rather than subject, yet subject exerts its own particular claims upon manner, and thus the figure painter belongs in a certain sense to a class apart. It must be confessed at the outset that the figure, as understood 1n art, has never been thoroughly acclimatized in America. The nude has always been more or less of an outcast, for the essential distinction between nudity and nakedness has never been recognized. It' is true that Vanderlyn’ s“Ariadne" andFitz’s“Reflections" were admirable nudes, but the persistence ‘of' Puritanism, and its logical corollary, the general self consciousness of the. public: in the presence of the undraped human farm, have prevented this phase of painting- - from securing an even reasonable footing in the States. The fault has not been with the artists. They have nearly all learned to draw the nude, and some to draw it superbly, in their student days abroad. The blame for this feeble and abortive page in the history of American painting rests entirely with the public. They accept the academic abstractions of Kenyon Cox and the adolescent pruriency of Sargent Kendall, but further than this' they decline to go. ' Despite such limitations there are, nevertheless, figure painters of distinction in America, among those of established reputation being Abbott H. Thayer, George de Forest Brush, Thomas Dewing, and John W. Alexander. The first two were pupils of Gérome, and not a little of the smooth cOmpetence of their master has clung to their work. Thayer is the official painter of feminine purity enthroned. He has made a positive cult of chastity, the frank, wide-eyed innocence of young womanhood being his perpetual theme. .Now she sits in, marble passivity upon a blue and gold dias, and now wonderingly faces the great world holding by the hand / two lesser counterparts of herself. There is no equivocation here. The painter is reverently and devoutly single minded. This is not demi—virginity, it is virginity victrix. Just as it is maidenhood that claims the full brush and fine draughtsmanship of Thayer, so it is motherhood which has enlisted the closer, more constrained technique of Brush. Brush began by depicting the American Indian with no little imaginative insight and power. He has to-day left the Wigwam for the domestic intimacy and serene, elevated spirituality of the family fireside. The work of Thomas W. Dewing, the third member of the quartette, is the essence of all that is reserved and supersensitive. In these highly finished, opalescent little panels has been immured a vastly more complex type of feminity than, the art of either Thayer or Brush exemplifies. These women are not lacking in aristocratic sophistication. Generations of culture and of consequent anemia physical and mental are expressed in their every attitude and the atmosphere they exhale. Dewing’s work is a subtle mosaicof motives Whistlerian, Japanese, and innately individual. It manifestly suffers from over refinement. It is exquisite in its mute appeal, but comes perilously near being esthetic transubstantiation. The delicacy and artistic diffidence of Dewing takes a broad, decorative sweep in the hands of John W. Alexander whose beautiful, mundane canvases reveal the magic of modern effectiveness and a superlative mastery of lihe and tone. Alexander’s work is one of the most personal and distinguished contributions to contemporary art. It is full of spirited, nervous pictorialism. It is slender in substance yet supreme in craftsmanship. While restricted, in the sphere of figure painting, American art in other branches shows a wholesome diversity of aim. Portraiture is represented by Chase, Beckwith, Seymour Thomas, Wiles, and Miss Beaux, who more or less closely follow the dictatorship of Sargent, by Lockwood who remains faithful to his master, La Farge, and by numerous younger men of more individual temperament such as Robert Henri and BenaAli Haggin, the former of whom lingers under the spell of Spain, the latter of whom is working out his own salvation with no little vigor and confidence. There are also a number of non-resident portrait painters who are in the habit of visiting the States with more or less frequency. At their head stands John Sargent, whose masterly brushwork and acute, if summary analysis are familiar on both sides of the water. More regular in his visits and more popular with the ,xw—m »——.«... ,_.,.. -- _ m ”m—w— “a. fir. 11—;— a.....»,.“ . . .mg—r‘yfi‘)‘w~ _~«.. {I 3 l , l i x i: . l ‘i ) i z ,. I , l. i . public is J. J. Shannon, who also lives in London,’ and who bears with him across the sea the gracious tradition of English eighteenth century portraiture modernized by dashes of Velazquez and also by a personal equation which is always free, supple, and elegant. . Of the two leading American painters residing in Germany, Professor Melchers and Professor Marr, the former has kept in closer accord with the spirit of his native land, and through his breadth of vision, his power of direct handling, and his clear and resonant purity of coloring ranks as one of the dominant personalities of the day. Professor Melchers has passed through many phases. He has painted in Brittany, in Holland, and in America; he has depicted peasant and the President of a great ‘1 Republic, and has everywhere evinced an assured mastery of his medium which never fails to command respect and admiration. It is unfortunate that Professor Marr‘ exhibits so seldom in his native land, for there is need of art such as his, need of its soundness, its sanity, and its rich and varied c'olor scale. 'As we have already seen, the Paris men maintain a more intimate relationship with the mother country than do the American artists who have settled elsewhere. It is true that Dannat, Harrison, and Hitchcock exhibit only at intervals and with diminishing frequency, though the younger men such as Gay, McCameron, McEwen, Walden, Hubbell, and Browne, and the two brilliant and attractive newcomers, Miller and Frieseke, are more regularly represented. Living abroad as these men do, the themes which they choose are almost exclusively foreign, and their work, though characte- ristically flexible and adaptable, is European in flavor. Admirable as such training is, it is not, however, through cultivating cosmopolitan sympathies, but through an ever increasing nationalism of subject and treatment, that American art can achieve ultimate salvation. No'better exponents of this growing tendency are to be found than Redfield, Schofield, and Dougherty. Redfield clearly stands at the head of broad, sturdy, American decorative landscape. Schofield is only a shade less native in his inspiration, and in Daugherty marine painting possesses a man who should someday rank' beside Winslow Homer. Massive of physique and positive in their opinions, these men are the young Titans of American art, rejoicing in their new found strength and triumphantly blazing the pathway of the future. Yet they by no means furnish the only signs of advancement. There are various other foci of activity. Dabo aEects impalpable though structurally severe abstracts of local landscape. Burroughs and Davies cultivate the poetic and symbolical. Sterner, Glackens, SIOan, and Shinn‘ are apostles of graphic freedom. Bellows paints river scenes with a mixture of youthful gusto and real artistic sensitiveness, and Luks' seeks to intensify the picturesque ugliness of street life in the slums. The aim of certain of these latter men is to offset sentiment by frankly explicit statement. Their particular deities are Manet, Degas, and after them the shabby Olympians of Mont- martre. They show undeniable talent but they are inclined to look at American types and scenes through the spectrum of Paris studio and café days. There are others who paint now in‘ one manner, now in another, and there are also hints that, under the aegis of Stieglitz and Steichen, the chromatic and linear experiments of Henri Matisse may shortly find place. Such are the main .lines of development which American painting has followed during the past century, and such are the aims and achievements of certain of its leading exemplars. There is no denying the cleverness, the ready eclecticism, and the general excellence of work produced as it has been under conditions always difficult and N-.. -:‘;- vz-r ,. _,._,.;.__:__':,,;~'; z._;-«;,;: -v -1 5.: .~';:;:*:.':—::*:;.;_..‘: ‘ .' 7 '....'..:'.':_.12 » '::;..:-.z:u,;_-J man . new a». - ,. . . . , a. H . . . , M - , , . . .. - . , v" ,2 v warv ~v v—w- «7«v—vmaquW—‘mw-rsz.flaws»... .zfiwvrnww v..- often disheartening. There is no disputing the fact that American painting has finally won place beside that of older and more richly endowed races. It only remains to be seen whether this Outwardly brilliant and sensitive art expresses the fundamental significance of American life, scene, and character —- whether, in short, it is national in the same degree that German art and French art, for example, may be called national. , The American is popularly supposed to be, and to all, appearances is, a vigorous, progressive type. The country is vast in size and rich in native resources. There is in America every variety of climate and every kind of scenery from the granite-bound, pinegdotted mountains of Vermont, to the waving palms of Florida, and from the b leafy glades and rolling hills of Pennsylvania to the luxuriant sub—tropical vegetation ' and azure skies of Southern California. The population is singularly varied and diverse. There are gigantic forces social and material in constant fermentation .before the eye, and there is in certain centers a dynamic intensity of life which cannot be paralleled anywhEre in the world. Nor is the country all new, crude, and unpoetic. It is not difficult to find spots full of rare and beseeching natural beauty. The quiescence of years clusters about the white porticoed houses of Colonial New England, the substantial homes of the Middle State Quaker, and the spacious mansions of the Virginia landed gentry, and in the daily lives of these families there remains not a’little old time grace and distinction. American society is to-day reasonably well crystallized; the American already has his historical background, his . physical characteristics, and his own personal psychology. In short, those great, formative influences which at first produced only confusion have worked themselves out along definite and easily distinguishable lines. There is no question that America possesses the raw material of art, that it reveals inabundance the facts from which beauty is fashioned and about which the flame of fancy may play at—will. One has thus simply to inquire how deeply these elements have entered into the esthetic consciousness of the people at large, and of the painter in particular. , The specific point at issue is whether American art as a whole conveys a satisfying _ - or even approximate sense of the above conditions, whether or not it translates into ' its own enduring language of form and color, simple and significant truths which are the common heritage of all. Does American landscape for instance give an _ adequate impression of the intimacy of the East or the majestic spaces of the West. Are these portraits faithful likenesses of the American woman, and do those represent the iron-willed captains of industry of which we hear so much. In fine, can one glean from American art an idea of what American scene and society really are, and is this .art an accurate and convincing, a consistently decorative, or an imaginatively eloquent interpretation of actuality. These are serious questions; but they are questions which .should cross the mind of anyone on viewing a representative collection of paintings. They are, in the present circumstances, questions which may confidently be left to the intuitionsof those who turn the pages of this publication. Christian Brinton. ., V. r.‘$..._r-*:’;‘:f ’1‘?’j~;:--’*'a r'v axe—w...,..~.. can—u» -;..«,.. m was .y hm .. . .r ., , . 1.”. (VV, ._._.-» waves.“ w, ..c,_,.,._.- ...-...:.w.. ,- '-v=v7r«...\;;.ikl.1an? at; wail!!!) . 35...! 5; .ll-, 1&0... . .. lift... 1 , . ....‘ a . ‘ .. V V .y . . ‘ . z , _ Y. z . . V . , , ‘ . ‘ i x , I , l a fi. 1 . .u \ . l x \ 4 5’1 :3 x1 , (.5?! t 2. ,\v7 \xa. » rt 1; I p v, .51 I 112! iv\ :1 x ‘v hit-Illtulv Iv ‘ a (.1 14, .u‘ .. . J:1,J...J..1!§T £0. ‘ . . . .....‘4,.? in}. w . } .;\‘.:;_ J ‘ , ‘41! I I, In, 1 \ .v) . 111413. 1 t‘ll‘l, 1 l \ _ a , I 1‘11}; x', ; f / ‘ 41‘ vitiuézt a?! llrc ! » x a a Owned by the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts, Phila: delphia, Pa. T. ALEXANDER HARRISON Marine 21. :v 41»: “Ir ' {‘,»._.a~;.ugs _ m. w _‘~_ yum . 1 Jill‘: . . » JI . wi§Iufi...§ft .. .r 1‘3 ,. .1 .15: 1,. $1.. 4 , ..,I5::x.\l0.¢»airi . u . I ..|\»IA.I..|.1 ‘ , ; , y ‘ . :7 It: \1 0.: .1 q ; .ixvslliuil lilting: .. 89. 5 .. x \11 . . 1 V . _ W . n ‘ ,. e _ , v w , V M a _ H K x A . , . s w S e d . I A N m H __ H ., _. E m . , _ D m . L G I m \ . H be , . , C T . ,. . _ \ 7m . ,\ 2 z .b x . s \, .. ,. ».\ \ \ ,_ \,. w /_ . C ., O w m c .m ‘ H .m , H m a E u m m . 0 e E h G T. 3. 2 Aw .. w [7,0 1'4 121 Ber/1.11 Pizza rap/2M w 4/ 0/5/47» z t}:.\ I ‘ 2,", .Slllpil 1....» £115.... . kr . O Y w e N La, . 7 A N f o I m . u w ' u ‘ M n A R m E w wmm . d H mM , fie ‘ W Sm ; 0 NY a mg ,. N em .. 1W1 hw by To ..,.. 24. 31.3‘: it: v .. x . . . s . . ,1 Lilli—v“!!! 2.0,: Winn“! k; sill..- xlltzxn\ 4? . ilk! 1.}; Rita. ,_ J I. . , . . .-W Owned by the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, Mass. WINSLOW HOMER All’s Well .1 2 ."T *3 11! €5.15 .4: .11}Julhnrr ‘ . . :. ‘ , ‘ . . . . , a. . ‘. . ‘ ‘ , r .uui ..1.§J.i»25.§5341 .1x .rxixwa’ki . . ‘1 ISA-it», .3, 4:21.133: 1%? 20:}... I9 :1 1‘1 , . 7 _ . . . . ~ ‘ . . o . c . ‘ . Owned by the Estate of Wm. Morris Hunt 26. WILLIAM MORRIS HUNT Girl with Cap E ”hwy.m,.u~- , _. ‘ .. . _l 1’...“ , .11 . 1:5. .yS‘isstJusI , I; . :1 (3-4 x“ .3 i. h 1 I - 4 ; £310.le f. (451191}! i a. ,, , I, )I. 1 L , ‘ .l. .IV:.IPI,Lv!:y l),si,3.it.§,3id.x -1333 ‘ £5355? 1.3 $0» 1 A r, \ . .‘ ‘ u: . .«o .xé. Owned by the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York S S E N N m M, I a V E O o G n A R m H O m E u M G A o 7. . 2 . i 1 ; -4" . .3. Mn nus“; I -~ ~ can... ”.0 .1 A...“ - .1)ng . . YYIIII:I..I,A:.,.|5 ‘ E ‘ , l'.ifiapikvfl.$i’illll 411.- .l,‘ ,. S .. , . , £i5\l&l¢u:i¥f A . i... X . - ‘Sliiéiiaififi .. :5? W. 1.9... i Kg»; ‘ ‘ N. . K r, m ~ u n .. O . M » s, n a V .mE . $w1 Elm. NCW Nd. I nMr E my m .mb Ohsw GSO . 0a . 2 AYJKr . Ella... 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Liflnilf1‘ii _. 1. . . .. h 11 .l. - 11.1Q1 1 1..1!. .4 . 1. 1 . .. . 1.1.1.1! -. . 1111.15.13 4! .1. . 1r 1 H01. 1 .1951: .1 . 1 1 . 1 .) «W475... .. 41!. 1.1%... ,. . v . 4. . 11‘ . 11 . .11‘. . 1.. 1 . . 1 . 1 ..1uwsflviaélpfsnw.§wh 7,. .H r . ..LL‘L... .HLI1‘ 11.4111111Wh. .. . . . 1.-. ROBERT MAC CAMERON 30. Portrait of President Taft ’5 P u. 7» fl,uu¢& .11 Jig)? Nut. 11‘... k .I , ‘ A ii.) )(I.37}$l|l..,. 11 I.) t : I t , .1“ :1 ,1, X» 1 u .«H 4‘ V. . s , . .. , ‘ . «C‘Olik: \ «ailfl, i1. .113? l.1l.t.‘llllr1dr.uy ,, . t: (41.1. , a .1 ‘, 1:1 ta ‘ ‘1 .flfih. . 2 . t x , . . I . . . . . vii-v! VEH: I: y xxx“. . . 3.11: \IVWf.-I L ,.. , .thuf‘ iwfigw,!.uflmu A-IOQ .5 , .ulirf‘. I?! ‘ g. .. \_ I .._ m. w w M C W A ‘H M M t H 8.. m m m T . L 3 L .. & “/. g . .1 . “.ng «Mp-A ;.. 7,;ng . A .« ‘A . "My-«.1. . , . ..«~-4 32. HOMER D. MARTIN Owned by the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York View of the Seine Valley ‘m...~:;m~...wn- ’ ~ “T- W~ 1 ~ T‘ “u... m .. .- ‘4 7-9-4“ w- » 94.3“ A , Mr “”7... “.wa 49v.“ ,1" W er ‘» ‘_..._..-... ..i.|r}£tsi\lllluxsf‘. . z I! .IIL‘IIIS\LJ\ . V . , ‘ ‘ . . , ,‘ ‘ all‘r . . . $0.? L ‘ ‘ I . . . , . ‘ : . , _ 4 . \| .ai¢.{fl31:.,. hawk”? ‘ . ‘ it tr! Sari. It SJ vii...) €3.11“? lkfiyli , GARI MELCHERS Madonna 33. .§~fi§. ik‘ll‘f : \ , . _, .1. , . w 2 4 .. y . 1 :1...” ‘quii! .. , , ‘ {x i y 1 3&3..th I a ‘ . , I A. {.r .. . ,.:Y\ . 31$! . :1“er A {Titiau 7 ‘5‘ ‘ ,,.. ,, ,1 ., . , to. a! a I. Fri! \ a . 5|)! .vuVI..vt...tl§nul. C“lvlfh?..ll.}3?161y, l ‘ Viz?! ,f J ‘ . ., . ,2; i. ., ,hqwnmfigf.1§. .. , . 3.3.x»: i. 1;‘.~w:rrhi.4uuifflu«‘n ”nubilhflnfluhxi 1... Z.:, . via. 7 Illa!!!) v‘utc'lo. I it... birth . 1 . 4‘11113 .V.-n1~, LII. 1 -.-I.1I-r41 r.‘ 1 u I 3‘. $6 111' I. E. 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R Mo & 3 . &.., ,.. . .. 82,... fif.f.\wfi&:fiiz lad): 14x , ., ‘ gaging?! ‘ ,3!" 4 THEODORE ROBINSON 39. Day Dreams Owned by Mr. Wm. T. Evans, Montclair, NJ. :nv 1.. as :9 we... «15 .. aha-fir}; vy .\ ). ._EII.1-9lit,”~lv.?a; ‘ . 1:. , , i , |.v\, Irv . ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ |BI rill; q. Lbndon . m . w . . mm « fl . . w ‘ .mh. _ m o o . M, RR . . w... v m “Wm M . . E , M . G me. M R ..W _ , . . , A W n V S O Y tb t N .md . w H um . W . ©1th _ L ; m 4. . .. w ‘ . .V / 5 ‘ , W. _ ._ . ., . . . .W ,.H.,,., .. W 37"}? alligéziiw; (.0 a , 33:1,? ‘ ,“M V1... 5 l hfgil)-x¢fiirtif it! . is}. §.v§|§g}« \ ILEIIID: 4, ,2! . SARCENT t of Edward Rob Owned by Mr. JOHNS. . 42 Esq. New York inson inson, Edward Rob i Portra “an ‘4 ,A ¢ 7 [1,: gum! "v 43. HENRY O. TANNER Two Disciples at the Tomb Owned by the Art Institute, Chicago, Ill. ._—r.3 “ A... up... ..t\.ll.l\:..r!v 19921:. f 3]. . v. #1\vJ\ . . ‘ {any}! ‘ A», luAlll/«u Jillnndiluiaxjkvllllli M n, m _,, um ,, m L .m a F , R cm m m . u C M ge D .mm m mm M Rd l m s! m m w o , Mn. N x ., n. . . 4 :;(’&;1..... I. '7‘, . . . >1 4 1 AFN..- l. in}: #6...-” . .1 13111393.!er . . i3... Li). I - .\ 731$ 1.. , air} a :f. . [Jivqowfilkwt ,. , Qwi, x”4..2, . 313.3%, 1 \5?‘ run! '53. 1511:: i: .11.; K é... c\ ‘ i) L 9 En... .V. “11.5). n .5. ...Hit.&0.1_ V.u...!f.¢.: .n v .1, . .v 4. y 1. x. I . , _ . . V . . . . . .. x .5 . . . . . . .. , . ., . 3......1..;.dfi,y.u.w. . y. l 1”.” ..,/¥Aart4 , v. {flaw} iii 11.95,? .4 , . , . . . . a , , , , ‘. r . , . . z , ,. . .. it!!!" y .. .::kl..vis.aa.\l .i. ., . x: ...,....W -ww m , a». ,mu. ”Hmwh. ”— II. n 17)} .1. .| .9li‘1 ( . ER ABBOTT H. THAY o 45 Robert Louis Stevenson Memorial Owned by Mr. J. J. Albright, Buffalo, N.Y. mr‘. x .»—, ‘ )ar-c- hr Ca r: it 5min; Wkly/agar [79 :4: TRYON The Farm — October Night DWIGHT W. 46. any-,zmarn Owned by Col. Frank J Hecker, Detroit, Mich. wayrn ‘Ju‘ ‘5». an . "1 a ,«—;.....—.«V» , w‘h «‘9» .....‘_-Mm a; A 'I I [l \ x ‘ > ‘ W‘w‘ «er. a...— 4;. Owned by Mr. Hugo Reisinger, New York Landscape in Spring 47. JOHN H. TWACHTMAN ['13. 1 .\‘.il\4 7 .. tlJiL ,1 3 . .xq 4.1.3:.n1114xgg‘1 A 7 H v . .. ‘ _ . m A : ,19‘10‘5 I... it!» :1, z. , ‘ 21-?) ;‘l€.l‘.i||ll{»l 2\I\ ? In q “V‘UXfiIiJwH‘E‘Ws . y N E D M W L E N m L ca 4 Summer Evening ‘77,:sz , . 3‘" “H at v-“"-" ‘ ~..._,r‘ ‘ % \ I \ \ I | k > I ‘r 7 , a " e - F . . ' z 9 i I ‘ I ; $31.39;}: at! .ff‘ko... V ., , llkfr‘M,,«.\aav! gli?:.41lluvwliltlll’n\1\in\ :, 1;. .‘ i”..|;.x. illrxk hula. ‘J.\Iv‘ Owned by Mrs. A. T. Sanden, New York 49. HORATIO WALKER The Thresher ‘c‘. “ ,Jo , ‘ ,.‘ . «n 1.- wflgm..ezgga.:;m\ ’\ / 1 . 2 A é /1.'/ m ‘5. a" ,/, L Mn; , L 9?; _ . .(uu&§~§§.§.§m§1££§w§r§.§fi A iiéfigizé JFK, 9.3%....2 x ..). « , , _ V V «Elr?.é§2:s€§l|l! .. J u , ‘ t‘ ,. .a .V J, . , . . . . . . \ Y4 .\. . . . ‘ ‘ y .\.I . 1% :I 1 l 3 lillilléT. -3130... k3. , It‘llfw\.!:k;: \\ ‘11,!“ ‘. , I w . K 3 ‘r \nif -.\.. /i2!. I‘l‘qv’lar/ 3.1.11.5U41‘ '{j{0§l 1.11:. . ‘1‘ a A . » l » { (If; 91;)» ./...Li] Iv." «, ; ‘chnil 1: ..,.. .- ex: . I l ‘ . L. 1 I v : . Ploughing for Buckwheat 50. J. ALDEN WEIR ,flp. .-_ _. _ v-tf‘k. .2.... {VI 151. .1), if: 2--........ .3.- .. .. n...unu...-.Mm....,..-..-..W§M.uk ... .. . . .;-.31.§nyv2\$¥222 TIN-nu? 3n 461.1. ti. .u 4... ‘ ,. ; gtix.'§..r1KIl/. N “ ¥ ...._ h x R .w, w w » T N m a. H m W .m e L R L o w H w, N .u H c G n M a M s cm w E d .w M w m M H o L 5 M. W m 52. JAMES M“ NEILL WHISTLER Nocturne — Blue Silver, The Lagoon Owned by Mr. Richard A. ‘Canfield, New York A»“»WIA - M-.-- .... 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