Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
random artist's birthday: william dyce
Born today in Aberdeen was 19th century Scottish painter William Dyce (September 19, 1806 - 1864). Dyce studied at the Royal Academy and then in Rome for nine months, and he would become highly influential in arts education later in his career. Many of his works involve religious subject matter and Pre-Raphaelite inclinations, but his scenes of daily life are also quite distinctive. Said to be "as keen in speech as in visage," Dyce died while in the midst of an exhaustive project of frescoes at Westminster Palace. The series involved the Legend of King Arthur and was never finished.
Pictured: The Garden of Gethsemane -- William Dyce, 1860 (National Museums Liverpool) and Welsh Landscape with Two Women Knitting -- William Dyce, 1864 (National Museum Cardiff)
Pictured: The Garden of Gethsemane -- William Dyce, 1860 (National Museums Liverpool) and Welsh Landscape with Two Women Knitting -- William Dyce, 1864 (National Museum Cardiff)
Friday, August 31, 2012
painting of the month
Still Life with Buddha, Lobsters and Oysters -- Lovis Corinth, 1916 (Galerie G. Paffrath, Germany/www.the-athenaeum.org)
Sunday, August 19, 2012
164 years of caillebotte

Gustave Caillebotte was born today in 1848 in Paris; his family was well-to-do and socially established, and before fully focusing on art, Caillebotte studied engineering and law. He was part of the French Impressionist circle and not only bankrolled exhibits of their work but helped keep some of his comrades afloat -- particularly Monet. Still, Caillebotte's paintings aren't really as impressionistic as those of the others and have more of a defined and often distinct perspective. Caillebotte's 1877 Paris Street, Rainy Day is perhaps his best-known effort and now a focal point of the Chicago Art Institute's collection, but there are many other great Caillebotte paintings, a few of which are pictured here. Caillebotte died far too young from pulmonary problems at the age of 45, and his far-sighted generosity continued on after his death with the placement of his fellow Impressionists' works at the Luxembourg and The Barnes Foundation.
Pictured Caillebotte paintings: On the Pont de l'Europe, circa 1877 (Kimbell Art Museum); Sunflowers on the Banks of the Seine, 1886 (the-athenaeum.org); Fruit Displayed on a Stand, circa 1881 (Museum of Fine Arts, Boston)
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Sunday, July 1, 2012
georgia and lake george
In 1916, photographer Alfred Stieglitz was asked to look at some drawings done by then-unknown art teacher Georgia O’Keeffe. Stieglitz was immediately fascinated by O’Keeffe, and even though Stieglitz was nearly a generation older, O’Keeffe was attracted to his wisdom and influence — and to his growing passion toward her as an artist and a woman.
From that point forward, O’Keeffe and Stieglitz would become creatively linked, with an eventual marriage that lasted until Stieglitz’s death in 1946. Georgia's relationship with Alfred naturally made her part of the Stieglitz lifestyle, which included a longstanding connection to the upstate New York region known as Lake George.
Stieglitz’s family owned a large home by the beautiful Adirondack lake, and Stieglitz himself enjoyed visiting the house and getting away from Manhattan, especially in warmer weather. O’Keeffe had been raised on a farm and had no problem acclimating to country life, but unfortunately the Stieglitz summer landscape was generally full of noisy visitors. Beyond Stieglitz’s various relatives, other artists or writers were also invited to stay. Stieglitz ran the influential 291 gallery and had edited the magazine Camera Work, and through both ventures he had developed a busy social circle.
For O’Keeffe, managing the Stieglitz entourage was something of an aggravated obligation. Stieglitz was so tireless in promoting her art and always hoping to keep her happy that at first she put up with the lack of space and peace needed for her to truly create. Still, when Stieglitz sold his family’s expansive home and opted for a smaller farmhouse, O’Keeffe began to experience feelings of entrapment. Stieglitz’s strong personality and work methods also clashed with O’Keeffe’s more internalized process, so that even once the guests had left, she continued to feel boxed-in.
The Shanty
Luckily, not long after the move to smaller quarters, O’Keeffe noticed what had once been a spot for local dances. The place was called the Shanty and was on the Stieglitz property, and despite the fact that it was rundown and in need of much renovation, Georgia decided to make the Shanty her creative refuge.
Stieglitz objected that the cost of repairs to the building might be too high, but Georgia found friends and family to do the work instead — and she also picked up her own tools and got busy herself. Through these collective resources, O’Keeffe’s resurrected Shanty came into being in late August of 1922.
O’Keeffe was not as prolific as she had hoped to be in her shanty space, and her first months of semi-freedom did not result in as much as she had hoped. Perhaps out of guilt — or perhaps to just free her mind from the whole situation — she ended that summer by canning fruits and vegetables, preparing delicious meals and otherwise making Stieglitz happy with her more domestic talents.
My Shanty
O’Keeffe did manage to paint a portrait of her new Lake George studio in 1922, a study in deep tones with a small, pure white window frame. Rather than being an obvious symbol of liberation, the Shanty looks dark and closed-off under a thickly clouded blue-gray sky. O’Keeffe reportedly chose these colors in response to the comments of some of Stieglitz’s male artist comrades, including Arthur Dove and Marsden Hartley, who claimed that O’Keeffe’s palette was too bright.
While O’Keeffe’s painting may appear to be a concession, upon closer examination My Shanty, Lake George is most likely anything but deferential. Firstly, O’Keeffe’s choice to paint a building which she had discovered and worked personally on the renovation of is a statement in itself. Secondly, O’Keeffe almost seemed to take the darker colors favored by "the men" — as she often called Stieglitz’s male artist friends — and create a defensive aura around a place she had claimed as her own.
Heading Southwest
Even with her Shanty, O’Keeffe ultimately found various aspects of life with Stieglitz to be too overwhelming and headed west to find more open views and spaces. By 1940 she was spending most of her time in New Mexico, where she would produce her iconic desert paintings. Alfred Stieglitz remained in New York; the couple stayed married and corresponded frequently, but actual visits grew farther apart.
After Stieglitz died in Manhattan in July of 1946, Georgia made their final trip together to Lake George to scatter her husband’s ashes on the property. She understood why Stieglitz would want to be there in spirit, since the place had meant so much to him for so long. When O‘Keeffe died in 1986, however, her ashes were scattered over her New Mexico Ghost Ranch, which had provided her ultimate refuge and which had become her own sacred space.
(originally published @ Suite101.com)
Sources
O’Keeffe and Stieglitz: An American Romance -- Benita Eisler (Doubleday, 1991)
The Phillips Collection -- Georgia O'Keeffe, My Shanty, Lake George, 1922 (pictured)
From that point forward, O’Keeffe and Stieglitz would become creatively linked, with an eventual marriage that lasted until Stieglitz’s death in 1946. Georgia's relationship with Alfred naturally made her part of the Stieglitz lifestyle, which included a longstanding connection to the upstate New York region known as Lake George.
Stieglitz’s family owned a large home by the beautiful Adirondack lake, and Stieglitz himself enjoyed visiting the house and getting away from Manhattan, especially in warmer weather. O’Keeffe had been raised on a farm and had no problem acclimating to country life, but unfortunately the Stieglitz summer landscape was generally full of noisy visitors. Beyond Stieglitz’s various relatives, other artists or writers were also invited to stay. Stieglitz ran the influential 291 gallery and had edited the magazine Camera Work, and through both ventures he had developed a busy social circle.
For O’Keeffe, managing the Stieglitz entourage was something of an aggravated obligation. Stieglitz was so tireless in promoting her art and always hoping to keep her happy that at first she put up with the lack of space and peace needed for her to truly create. Still, when Stieglitz sold his family’s expansive home and opted for a smaller farmhouse, O’Keeffe began to experience feelings of entrapment. Stieglitz’s strong personality and work methods also clashed with O’Keeffe’s more internalized process, so that even once the guests had left, she continued to feel boxed-in.
The Shanty
Luckily, not long after the move to smaller quarters, O’Keeffe noticed what had once been a spot for local dances. The place was called the Shanty and was on the Stieglitz property, and despite the fact that it was rundown and in need of much renovation, Georgia decided to make the Shanty her creative refuge.
Stieglitz objected that the cost of repairs to the building might be too high, but Georgia found friends and family to do the work instead — and she also picked up her own tools and got busy herself. Through these collective resources, O’Keeffe’s resurrected Shanty came into being in late August of 1922.
O’Keeffe was not as prolific as she had hoped to be in her shanty space, and her first months of semi-freedom did not result in as much as she had hoped. Perhaps out of guilt — or perhaps to just free her mind from the whole situation — she ended that summer by canning fruits and vegetables, preparing delicious meals and otherwise making Stieglitz happy with her more domestic talents.
My Shanty
O’Keeffe did manage to paint a portrait of her new Lake George studio in 1922, a study in deep tones with a small, pure white window frame. Rather than being an obvious symbol of liberation, the Shanty looks dark and closed-off under a thickly clouded blue-gray sky. O’Keeffe reportedly chose these colors in response to the comments of some of Stieglitz’s male artist comrades, including Arthur Dove and Marsden Hartley, who claimed that O’Keeffe’s palette was too bright.
While O’Keeffe’s painting may appear to be a concession, upon closer examination My Shanty, Lake George is most likely anything but deferential. Firstly, O’Keeffe’s choice to paint a building which she had discovered and worked personally on the renovation of is a statement in itself. Secondly, O’Keeffe almost seemed to take the darker colors favored by "the men" — as she often called Stieglitz’s male artist friends — and create a defensive aura around a place she had claimed as her own.
Heading Southwest
Even with her Shanty, O’Keeffe ultimately found various aspects of life with Stieglitz to be too overwhelming and headed west to find more open views and spaces. By 1940 she was spending most of her time in New Mexico, where she would produce her iconic desert paintings. Alfred Stieglitz remained in New York; the couple stayed married and corresponded frequently, but actual visits grew farther apart.
After Stieglitz died in Manhattan in July of 1946, Georgia made their final trip together to Lake George to scatter her husband’s ashes on the property. She understood why Stieglitz would want to be there in spirit, since the place had meant so much to him for so long. When O‘Keeffe died in 1986, however, her ashes were scattered over her New Mexico Ghost Ranch, which had provided her ultimate refuge and which had become her own sacred space.
(originally published @ Suite101.com)
Sources
O’Keeffe and Stieglitz: An American Romance -- Benita Eisler (Doubleday, 1991)
The Phillips Collection -- Georgia O'Keeffe, My Shanty, Lake George, 1922 (pictured)
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
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