Seth Eastman (born 1808) was a West Point graduate who worked as an illustrator and mapmaker in the army. His first assignment to Fort Snelling – one of the army’s most important posts on what was then the edge of the frontier – marked the start of a life-long journey that resulted in an outstanding pictorial record of the Dakota people.

Eastman’s tours at Fort Snelling gave him a special advantage as an artist. Working as an embedded journalist with the army, he served as a military liaison with the Dakota (or Santee), learning their language and customs, and staying with them for extended periods, giving him valuable experience that he channeled into hundreds of sketches and small paintings.

During his first stay, he married Wakanin ajin win (“Stands Sacred”) the daughter of a Santee chief, and had a daughter named Winona. According to the custom of the day, however, such a marriage was not legally binding for an American male – and when he was reassigned nearly two years later, this “unofficial union” was dissolved. From then on he had no further association with his Indian family.

(His daughter Winona later took the name Mary Nancy Eastman and was the mother of another famous Eastman, Ohiyesa – also known as Charles Eastman. A writer, teacher, and advocate, he became the first Native American medical doctor.)

When Eastman later married into a prominent Virginia family, his wife Mary accompanied him to various military posts – including a second tour at Fort Snelling that lasted seven years – and wrote stories about Dakota life for which Eastman provided illustrations.

In 1847, Congress commissioned Henry Rowe Schoolcraft’s series Indian Tribes of the United States, a large-scale illustrated series similar to the landmark
McKenney-Hall & King work of a generation earlier. Eastman immediately petitioned for the job of illustrating the work, but was at first denied. Eventually, through the influence of his wife and friends, he won a furlough to concentrate on the artwork. The project was five years in the making and ultimately consisted of 6 volumes and nearly 300 detailed illustrations.

The success of the work led to other government commissions, many of which now hang in the nation’s capitol. While his paintings have long been recognized for their historic value, they were not always accepted without controversy, because they were so objective in portraying Dakota people and their customs at a time dominated by a strong negative bias, even open hostility against them. For the most part he portrayed the traditional village life of Minnesota’s farming communities, and not the more familiar – and more romanticized – nomadic horse culture of the Plains. Eastman’s documentary accuracy, and his thorough and detailed precision, make his portfolio such a monumental achievement.

Before his death in 1875, Eastman would have been witness to the wars and forced removals that opened Minnesota to American expansion and systematically dismantled the Dakota lifestyle he had spent so many years documenting. Ironically, his own grandson Charles was among the community of relocated Dakota who fled first to Canada, then to North Dakota; there he attended mission schools, later to graduate from the best colleges in the East. Like his grandfather, Charles also married an accomplished woman with a deep interest in making a written record of Native American cultures. As a certified medical doctor, he was assigned to the Pine Ridge reservation where he was a first responder following Wounded Knee.

It is a paradox that these two men, despite their close relation and their individual influence in giving the world a glimpse of Dakota culture, were alienated by convention on two opposing sides.

More on the Eastman family:

Seth Eastman: Painting the Dakota – companion website for the PBS docudrama (excellent resource!)

Wikipedia: Seth and Mary Eastman

PBS “History Detectives” Episode: Investigating Eastman’s pieces A researcher determines an uncovered Eastman painting to be a forgery – but in the process explores some of the ironies about Eastman’s career and relationship to the Dakota. He also meets with a descendent of Eastman’s Dakota marriage.

Historic Fort Snelling – Seth Eastman

Minnesota Historical Society: Seth Eastman Exhibit

See also:

“Ohiyesa” – Charles Eastman

This Day in History: Charles Bird King

Hogarth was born to a lower-class London family. At the beginning of his art career, he started out as an engraver’s apprentice, but became more independent as the demand for his prints rose. This enabled him to marry his art teacher’s daughter and live comfortably, honing his skills as a painter and satirist and becoming well-established as a portrait painter by the 1730′s. His portrait of the actor David Garrick in his role as Richard III sold for the highest price of any English portrait up to that time.

Below: My favorite Hogarth pieces are the serious, sensitive portraits such as the “Servants” above and the tantalizing, enigmatic Shrimp Girl.

Most of Hogarth’s work reveals his voice as a social commentator. He is best known for his “morality serials” depicting the vices and social ills plaguing populous urban England, and the sham of upper-class manners. Series such as “The Rake’s Progress,” “The Harlot’s Progress,” and “Marriage a la Mode” were published in installments and quickly became wildly popular. The rampant pirating of his pieces, and similar experiences of his colleagues, prompted him to lobby Parliament for the creation of the Engraver’s Copyright Act, which was passed in 1735.

Left: Another portrait of Garrick, this time in a more informal setting with his wife.

Hogarth’s drastic rise in social status never seemed to hamper the strong sense of ethics and civic responsibility reflected in his art. He used his means to found an art school, which was a precursor to famous Royal Academy. And he and his wife, unable to have a family of their own, fostered foundling children. His popularity, and the respect he enjoyed from his peers and his public, is portrayed in the epitaph Garrick wrote upon Hogarth’s death in 1764:

“Farewell great Painter of Mankind
Who reach’d the noblest point of Art
Whose pictur’d Morals charm the Mind
And through the Eye correct the Heart.

If Genius fire thee, Reader, stay,
If Nature touch thee, drop a Tear:
If neither move thee, turn away,
For Hogarth’s honour’d dust lies here.”

Wikipedia: William Hogarth

WikiGallery: Online Collection of Hogarth’s Prints and Paintings

Above: “Father Prays”

Terpning is one of the outstanding and preeminent artists of Western and Native American culture. His style is recognizably masterful and effortless – a true gift to art, accounting for the almost endless list of awards and recognitions he has received over the years.

Terpning was born and raised in the Midwest. He pursued art early on but did not study professionally until returning from military service. He worked as an apprentice illustrator and eventually became a freelance artist, illustrating for major publications like Time Magazine & Reader’s Digest, and producing iconic movie posters.

Left: One of my favorites – “Three Generations”

In the 70′s he decided to pursue a passion for Western history & culture that was sparked during his early travels in the West. The depiction of Plains Indian life, and the culture of the West, has become the real signature of his work, making him one of today’s most collected Western artists. It is remarkable to have such a legend still among us. Happy birthday Howard!

Wikipedia: Howard Terpning

Howard Terpning Western Art at the Greenwich Workshop

Portfolio Slideshow – Nearly a hundred of Terpning’s best-known pieces

For an art lover and a history buff, it’s a bit tantalizing to see such a diversity of pieces flash before your eyes: medieval miniatures; pompous, dignified Renaissance busts; a hazy profile study by Da Vinci; a brusque Revolution-era portrait by David. A clay head sculpture of an important man, found in an ancient Persian burial vault, stares back at us large as life, looking for all the world as if he was still observing life from beyond the grave. The unusual Elamite style strikes us with its prominent Oriental features and stylized curly beard and hair.

The first portrait to draw me further in is that of a young woman from Roman Egypt. She reminds me of the mosaic portraits of ancient Italy, with her smooth classical features and huge, dark lustrous eyes.

The incredible detail is achieved on cedar panel by encaustic painting, an unusual method that combines the pigments with beeswax or other resins to adhere to the wood. Apparently this technique was a signature of late Egyptian funerary artwork; the finished portrait would then be placed over the face of the mummy. One would imagine that the ancient artist had to work quickly with the melted wax. Or was his palette held in a container over a flame, to keep the pigment liquid? A quick google reveals that encaustic painting is widely used by artists today.

The exhibit description explains how the fine lines of the eyelashes are created by scratching through the encaustic layers to expose the black base coat beneath – a method not unlike the one I use in pastel on suede. Judging by the adornments in this portrait, the young woman was apparently of noble rank, and her family must have spared no means in her burial or in commemorating her by commissioning this exquisite likeness.

The Fayum portraits would be a great topic for a later post. It seems to me this level of depth and realism was not approached again until the Renaissance.

A little less remote in time and place is Chardin’s Self Portrait, 1771, pastel on paper (a medium he adopted only in the latter part of his career). The strong diagonal grain often seen in pastel pieces always makes me think of a driving rain!

I always loved the frank, unassuming personality of Chardin’s portrait. His decision to portray himself in such a low-key, mediocre way is unprepossessing, yet remarkably self-assured. The masterful loose strokes have a futuristic nuance that reminds me of some of Hogarth’s pieces from a generation earlier (the collage of his servants’ faces, perhaps, which is a favorite of mine – or even the Shrimp Girl?)

That’s all for this quick glance – but as usual I leave the exhibit with something to mull over for next time. Isn’t it ironic that it’s impossible to leave a museum – full of old things and old ideas – without taking away something new?

The ancient Stone Age artists used abalone shells and quartzite grinders to produce pigments with ochres and charcoal, using animal oils as binders. It’s not clear how these ‘pigment pastes’ were being used – for tableau painting on smooth rock faces, body painting, or other ritual practices. Earlier finds suggested that blocks of pigment may have been used almost like pastels, like those responsible for Europe’s famous Stone Age cave paintings. But these artifacts predate those by tens of thousands of years, making them among the oldest evidence of conceptual thinking ever discovered.

Just imagine sweeping out the windblown sand to uncover the intact workshop of a prehistoric artist, complete with supplies and paints. Makes you think how little some things have changed over the ages. This artist even favored an ocean-front studio, like some modern artists I know…

BBC News: Ancient ‘paint factory’ unearthed

She was born in 1871 and grew up during a time of great turmoil and upheaval for Native people. She attended the Hampton Institute, one of the era’s famous Indian boarding schools, where like many other Indian children she faced the twin hardships of separation from family and the systematic indoctrination of a deeply racist policy.

Her remarkable academic and artistic achievements earned her a ticket to advanced art training in Philadelphia and Boston under some of the country’s most renowned instructors. She absorbed multiple styles and incorporated them into a unique illustrating signature.

Right: Illustration from the book “The Middle Five” (Image: AngelDeCora.com)

Angel was reluctant to part with her heritage and stood out by making her skills a catalyst for expressing her people’s culture and experience in a modern context. By being such a “media maverick” she defied common stereotypes about Indians (and about women) and became a trend-setter in the field of Native American art. She was a conundrum to a public eager to categorize Indians into two classes: the backward, recalcitrant outsiders who needed to be assimilated into white society, or the romanticized “children of nature,” the noble savages of a lost age.

She illustrated her own stories as well as books by Zitkala Sa and Elaine Goodale Eastman. Her husband William ‘Lone Star’ Dietz, a Hampton alumnus, was also an artist and together they collaborated on many projects.

Some of her most important contributions were made during her appointment as an art teacher at the Carlisle Indian School, where she often pushed the boundaries of traditional teaching methods, using art to help her students rediscover rather than suppress their roots.

Left: DeCora and her husband William Dietz (Image: AngelDeCora.com)

She acted as a kind of cultural liaison with several government agencies and was constantly bombarded by the prejudice and incompetence of the cumbersome bureaucracy. She often traveled to Indian communities throughout the Midwest gathering ethnographic information, not only to reinforce her teaching skills but to contribute to a permanent artistic record of Indian cultures. In this role she was a major force in bringing Native arts and crafts into the public spotlight.

She died in 1919 at the age of 47. Few of her original works survive, but reproductions in books and magazines such as the popular Harper’s offer a rich glimpse of her versatile techniques, from the intricate realist detail of her early pieces, to the strong tonal style of her late works.

Left: Illustration from the novel “Yellow Star” (Image: Wikimedia Commons)

Angel DeCora: American Artist and Educator – Sarah McAnulty (a very good biography of DeCora)

Wikipedia: Angel de Cora

David was born to a privileged family of Parisian architects during the height of France’s ancien regime. He was expected to follow this profession, but his early education quickly revealed a strong proclivity for art and a heady temperament – both of which would define the course of his adult life.

His first art teacher was an old-school artist of the Rococo style who recognized David’s strong Classical sympathies and sent him to a colleague, Joseph-Marie Vien, who became David’s long-time mentor. Under his tutelage, David attended the Royal Academy (part of what is today the Louvre). In 1774, after several failed attempts, he won the prestigious Prix de Rome, and later traveled to Italy with Vien where he immersed himself in Classical art forms and early Renaissance painting.

Upon returning to Paris five years later, he was finally admitted membership to Royal Academy, and was also granted residence at the Louvre by royal appointment. Despite all these honors he was impatient for greater recognition and frustrated by what he felt was discrimination against his age. His problematic attitude did not endear him to his superiors and his brash, ardent and sometimes narcissistic nature meant inevitable collisions with his peers and his patrons. But his position offered him both means and security and the 1780s found him a man in his forties with a family, a comfortable living, an expanding student roll, and a growing reputation.

Left: Portrait of Antoine-Laurent Lavoisier and his Wife (1788)

Lavoisier was a brilliant French scientist who was executed during the Reign of Terror on minor charges, partly through the influence of Marat (the same Marat whose death David later portrayed so iconically). Fellow scientist Lagrange said, “It took them only an instant to cut off his head, but France may not produce another such head in a century.”

David’s appetite for the heroic and grandiose, however, was about to be filled, and he was soon swept up in the radical changes erupting throughout France. His quest for the Neoclassical ideal – austere, noble, self-sacrificing – found a new outlet on the stage of the French Revolution.

David and other Neoclassicists felt they could elevate the artistic plane of their society by reviving the order and refinement of Greco-Roman civilization, uplifting humanity to a new level of honor, nobility, and reason. They saw the Revolution as the opportunity, and art as the catalyst.

This worldview is exemplified by paintings of the period, such as The Oath of the Horatii (1784) and The Death of Socrates (1787), which glorify their Classical subjects and project their values and virtues onto the revolutionary cause. But they also illustrate how easily the line between public expression and propaganda can become blurred.

True to his impetuous nature, David became embroiled in politics – as a member of the Jacobin Club and a friend of Robespierre, voting for the king’s execution in 1792 and even turning his influence against the Royal Academy (possibly out of frustration in not receiving all the benefits he felt he deserved). He organized public spectacles: festivals, processions, and carefully orchestrated unveilings of politically charged paintings, intended to stir or sway popular sentiment.

The limelight was intense but short-lived. As revolutionary fervor escalated out of control and the Reign of Terror began, internal power struggles undermined Jacobin leadership and David himself only narrowly escaped being executed alongside Robespierre. He landed in prison where he painted his famous self-portrait. This brush with danger was enough to satisfy even David’s thirst for the heroic.

“This is Civilisation” presented by art critic Matthew Collings – This excerpt gives a visual tour of The Oath of the Horatii – austere, paternalistic, typically Roman. The episode examines the careers of both David and Spanish painter Goya to contrast their evaluation of human nature.

As the Age of Reason ushered in an intellectual quantum leap in Europe, an era of revolution followed hard on its heels, unleashing ages’ worth of emotional and ideological constraints. David’s portrayal of man in this brave new world emphasized the idealistic and noble – while Goya’s art portended its darker side. David’s sweeping generalizations of humanity and the glorified image of his Classical models resulted in works of art that are psychologically involved to a perilous degree.

Ironically, there is possibly no better illustration of Goya’s message than David’s own French Revolution, and even David’s career itself. The noble aspirations of ‘the people’ led to the overthrow of a despotic regime, only to descend into a brutal, hedonistic bloodbath afterwards. And likewise David’s own thirst for change, justice, and individuality spiraled into radical acts driven by manipulation and revenge that he later came to regret.

This section examines David’s masterpiece Death of Marat:

Maybe it was the encounter with his own mortality, or maturity brought on with age, or the shock of such extreme social upheavals – or maybe all of the above. Whatever the cause, from this phase on David seems to have re-evaluated his own motives and actions and even contemplated the crushing irony and contradiction of the movement he supported so strongly.

The revolution detested the despotism of the French kings but craved the rigid, stoic sense of structure and discipline they admired in the Greeks and Romans. They detested the softness and lavishness of their society, but omitted to notice how the corruption of the civilizations they idolized degraded into the same kind of opulent depravity. The Neoclassicists, and the Revolutionaries in particular, were eager to exchange their society’s outdated version of the ancient past for one that better suited their ends. But by idealizing it they made the same error in failing to learn from its mistakes. In their quest for a new reality, they would have done well to take into account Goya’s prophetic observations of human nature’s darker potential.

In any case it was a changed David who was released to a changed France, under a new regime with the ascent of Napoleon. France’s self-appointed new leader recognized both the skill and the political potential of David’s work, and promptly made him the official artist of the empire. Consequently, many of David’s grandest and most famous pieces portray Napoleon or his family members.

The Coronation of Napoleon (1807)
Louvre Interactive: A Closer Look at “The Consecration of Napoleon”

After the Bourbon restoration in 1814, the king offered him amnesty but David left the country and set up his studio in Belgium, where he worked until his death in a street accident in 1825. The extensive span of his career left an immediate and permanent mark on both French and Belgian art, especially through the influence of pupils such as Ingres. While the Neoclassical movement was soon swept aside in the current of the Romantic Age, the pristine idealism of David’s works vividly represents one of the most crucial turning points of Western culture, and still looms as large as ever.

Portrait of Emmanuel Joseph Sieyes (1817) – A beautifully realistic and very down-to-earth examples from David’s later works

Images: Wikimedia Commons

Wikipedia: Jacques Louis David

“The Legacy of Jacques-Louis David” Thematic Essay from the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History

Jacques-Louis David: Empire to Exile (WEB EXHIBIT)

“This is Civilisation” Episode Guide and complete online video from YouTube

Out of the list of thematic mini-sites I’ve chosen “Rembrandt the Draftsman”. Of the three areas in which Rembrandt made his mark (no pun intended) – painting, etching, and drawing – this exhibit highlights the last. And with pencil and paper being my first love I could hardly resist.

France, it seems, has had a long history of Rembrandt appreciation, and French collectors of his drawings go way back. The Louvre alone possesses 64 of them, and many of these were acquired in the early 18th century.

Rembrandt’s drawings, to a greater extent than those of other artists, are like strobe photos of an artist’s mind in action – like a flip-book of creative ideas taking shape in his head. He sketched prolifically and copied works of his mentors to explore their method and many of these sketches are still extant.

Interior with Saskia in Bed – a scene from Rembrandt’s own home. This one I found unique in its masses of heavy rich shading that give structure to the composition. A very warm and domestic example of his genre painting.

Most of his drawings are done with chalk or ink wash or a combination of both. With his distinctive blunt, rapid, scrambled style, they are spontaneous enough to capture the essence of the subject with very little premeditation and an added sense of lightness and motion (especially so in his narrative scenes).

Cornelis Claesz – This was one of the most articulate and sensitive in the exhibit. It uses not only ink and wash but chalk and gouache, and is much more elaborate and self-sufficient than most of his drawings. The subject was a prominent Dutch Mennonite.

Below, completely different in tone and subject, is the sketch Shah Jahan on Horseback, with a Falcon on his Left Wrist. It shows Rembrandt’s uncanny readiness to assimilate other styles. He must have been fascinated with the line and texture of Oriental painting. He made this copy of the Mughal ruler’s portrait from a miniature, probably a piece in his own eclectic collection. His widely multifarious interests qualify him as something of a Renaissance man, notwithstanding the Netherlands’ cosmopolitan society.

The most interesting section (I think) was ‘Rembrandt the Narrator.’ He was certainly at his best as a storyteller – his exuberant curiosity and attention to detail made the combination of human dynamics with an eloquent (and sometimes flamboyant) presentation a no-brainer. I think they reveal his character the most. They exploit his favorite subjects – the expressiveness of the elderly face, the body language of individuals in states of strong emotion, and the intrigue of exotic settings and dress.

The counterpoint between his subjects is strong but not forced, because there is a real sense of innocence in Rembrandt’s characters. I think part of this quality stems from the way he explored lesser-known subjects: for instance, rather than painting many dozens of Madonnas over and over, he looked for the dramatic potential in obscure Old Testament scenes, such as Jacob’s sons returning from Egypt, or in the pages of the Apocrypha.

The Parable of the Talents – To the right is a close-up of the hired man: his face downcast, and his posture suggesting even more strongly his embarrassment and despondency.

Something remarkable about Rembrandt’s sketches is that no matter how spontaneous or cursory they appear, the faces are always given equal treatment. Even with just a few marks he makes sure that they convey the suggestion of expression that carries the symbolic weight of the narrative.

And finally, landscapes first appeared in his portfolio around 1640, done mostly from plein-air sketches. These have become fixtures of his portfolio representing the Dutch style (of course how could the mention of Rembrandt fail to conjure a vision of those iconic ink-wash windmills?)

River with Wooded Banks – one of Rembrandt’s later pieces. It illustrates how drastically his style softened over time. It is strikingly atmospheric and harks to a much later style of painting – perhaps to Turner or even the Impressionists?

The Old Masters: Rembrandt van Rijn This Day in History

Well, not literally; but I have discovered its excellent and fascinating website. Spending time in it is like spending time in the Louvre itself. It is really exhaustive, as you might expect, with a slew of things to tempt the artist, the history buff, or the merely curious mind (all three of which apply to me!)

The material ranges from student-friendly to quite technical. The interactive “Workshop” gives an amusing guided tour of museum highlights fit (I think) for all ages:

The most significant attraction for me is the series of “In-Depth” studies of great paintings. On my first visit I explored the feature for Delatour’s pastel portrait of Madame de Pompadour (yes, that is a pastel!) This video, for instance, discusses the composition of the painting, the biography of both artist and subject, and the evolution of pastel technique. Like a 15-minute all-in-one art class.

There are features classed also by era or special exhibition – all very attractively presented – I will definitely be going back for more. Which brings me to the introduction of my new blog series…

As I explore the Louvre (digitally at least) I’ll post on the most interesting pages and give my best picks. It should make for some good conversation, n’cest pas?

What is it we see in such pieces that moves us to make such comparisons?

The composer Robert Schumann said that a comparison is explanation by detour. Sometimes art provokes reactions in us that we can only express indirectly.

We compare paintings to photos because of their quality, when they are life-like in detail and accuracy – in doing so we pay tribute to the skill of the artist. But the other way around is a bit trickier to explain; what motive would a photographer have in attempting to “imitate” paint on canvas?

In this case it isn’t the visual texture we refer to but something less tangible. After all it is no challenge for a camera to achieve perfect photo-realism. Do we really mean that the composition is outstanding – and that the photographer has successfully assumed a more painterly style in presenting its subject?

What does this say about our perception of photography as an art form – do we think less of it compared with other fine arts because a photo involves newer technology, and takes only an instant to create? Or by comparing it with painting, which has an illustrious history tracing back through works of some of the world’s greatest creative minds – are we giving it the highest praise?

What do we really see in a photograph that calls to mind a painting? And how has the technology of the camera influenced our perceptions of art in general? I’d love for you to weigh in with your own thoughts on the subject.

You can also search for artist/period by name.

Have a Closer Look – Identify paintings by details

Identify the Artist: Self-Portraits

More Self Portraits

Masters – Great Paintings Quiz

Can you identify 15 of the most famous paintings?

Famous People by Famous Artists (This one is especially tricky since you have to match BOTH the artist and the subject: good luck!)

“Painting is but another word for feeling” – John Constable

Constable found himself wedged between two artistic worlds – the formal, elaborate Classical style that relished the ancient and remote; and the new Romantic school that sought to sublimate nature into something at once mystical and intimately personal. Both groups found Constable’s work hopelessly domestic and mundane. While Constable’s paintings betray his admiration for the technique and skill of the old masters, they also showed a definite Impressionistic flair; but the provincial flavor of his work did not endear him to the Romantics either, who expected a more idealized approach.

Somewhere between the two camps was forged a fusion of tradition and innovation that made Constable perhaps Britain’s greatest landscape artist.

In fact it was not in England but in France that his work had both the best reception and the strongest influence – a ironic twist considering that Constable never traveled outside of England. His professional career suffered because his accomplishments were so slow to gain recognition in his own country. But the impact he had on early French Romanticism, and the later Impressionist movement, is obvious in the works of Millet and other painters of the Barbizon school, who successfully combined naturalism with realism.

Left: Self-Portrait (1804) courtesy of the National Portrait Gallery (Source: Britannica Online)

Constable was born the son of a merchant in Suffolk, England, and later credited the beautiful countryside of southern England where he was raised as his main artistic impetus. Like many great artists, he was originally intended to follow his father’s trade, but his first exposure to fine art led him to pursue serious study – and fortunately his family consented.

The Hay Wain (1821) is easily one of the most recognizable English paintings. But when it was first exhibited at the Royal Academy, no one would buy it. At the pivotal Paris Salon Exhibition in 1824, it won ardent acclaim – and a gold medal from the French king!

The oil on canvas (originally titled Landscape: Noon) is one of the so-called “six-footers,” and depicts a mill belonging to Constable’s father and the cottage of a local farmer. It illustrates the artist’s need to incorporate the human elements of his environment.

Early on he made a small income through portrait commissions, but his marked inclination as a landscape painter quickly became clear. He spent countless hours painting plein air and studying the seasonal subtleties of the English meadowlands, waterways, and landmarks. He thrived on the hustle and bustle of the small farming communities that became the life-blood of his paintings. Many of the sketches he created during this early period became the groundwork for later paintings in watercolor and oil.

Above: A cloud study in oil from one of Constable’s “skying” excursions; below, a portrait of an elm.

His marriage in 1816 provided some financial security and also great happiness, both demonstrated by the dramatic surge of emotional depth in his artwork. But these joys were short-lived – his wife died young, leaving the distraught artist alone to raise their large family. These troubles were compounded by money problems, brought on by unwise business ventures. An unsuccessful investment into an engraving collection left him on the verge of bankruptcy.

Following the writer’s adage, “Write what you know,” Constable concentrated all his efforts into portraying the environs of rural England as he knew and loved it. Golding Constable’s Flower Garden shows a tranquil scene from his childhood home.

For the rest of his life Constable struggled to gain professional recognition and remained largely dependent on patronage. In 1829 he was elected to the Royal Academy, where for several years he became influential as a lecturer. He emphasized to his students the importance of a scientific approach to landscape painting. He held his position at the Academy for only a few years until his death in 1837 at the age of 60.

Malvern Hall (1809)

Images: Wikipedia Commons

Wikipedia: John Constable

Metropolitan Museum of Art – John Constable

John Constable: The Complete Works

This era was a melting pot of cultures and heritages – Indians, frontiersmen, European colonists, traders, and soldiers – making it fertile ground for historical artists. While on the topic, I’ve selected a few of my favorite artists who specialize in period depictions of early America.

David Wright: Artist of the American Frontier

Wright was born and raised in the heart of American frontier country, but trained internationally. He has an impressive portfolio of historical paintings centering on portraits of Native Americans, pioneers and Civil War characters. He also works as a historical consultant for television.

Above: Huron – based on Wes Studi’s role as the Magua in “Last of the Mohicans” (Wright also participated in the production). Interesting to compare with James Bama’s renditions of Studi from this and other movie roles (here for example).

Preparing for the Dance, 20×24 oil on canvas.
Below: Long Way From Home, 9×12 oil on panel. This is one of my favorite portraits – such attentive detail and gripping expressiveness.

John Buxton: Artist of Our Heritage

Focuses on 18th century American life. His earlier career as an illustrator included collaborations with the National Geographic Society.

Kinsman of the Shawnee, 16×26; a beautiful example of the extraordinarily detailed approach taken by this artist. I remember first seeing this piece in a magazine and being able to gaze on it for literally hours – a quality not often reached by modern artists.

Robert Griffing

Robert Griffing at Lord Nelson’s Gallery; also on Paramount Press

Like the above artists, Griffing also was born and raised in the eastern US surrounded by frontier heritage. His particular specialty is portrayals of the Woodland Indians of the early American period. A motive of his work which I find especially compelling is to try to bring life to a period that is often overshadowed by the glamorized image of the West. He achieves this brilliantly.

Above: He Speaks of the Old Ways; below, The Delicate Balance of Honesty – without a pretty large image file it’s hard to do this amazing painting justice. What an amazing composition!

There are many excellent artists such as these who specialize in historical pieces of this period – in fact too many to make an easy selection for a single blog post! I genuinely admire their talent and in particular their keen curiosity and commitment to accuracy that separate them from the artistic crowd.

It happens when you sit down to work, facing a stark white, hopelessly blank page, looming larger and more intimidating by the minute. It can scare the life out of you (not to mention costing valuable work time).

Whether you’re in need of some last-minute inspiration, or just trying to muster some creative juices, there’s no sure-fire way to overcome the blank page jitters. But why not make it a little easier on yourself? Try starting up with a colored page (or canvas) – anything but white. Better yet, go with something that already has a pattern or texture. Seeing a little activity on the page from the get-go is a good jump start to your creativity.

Audubon could aptly be called the “Bird Man of the Early American Frontier.” Born in Haiti, raised in France, and devoted to his adopted American homeland, he became a world-famous icon of the wilderness. His natural sketches comprise perhaps the world’s greatest illustrated volume.

Audubon was born Jean Rabin, the illegitimate son of a naval officer and plantation owner in the French Caribbean. He was reared in France from his early years after his father took him to live with his stepmother in Nantes. When she formally adopted the elder Audubon’s children in 1794, young Jean received the name Jean Jaques Fougere Audubon (which he later anglicized upon coming to the US).

As a young man he was charming, inquisitive, athletic, with strong interests both in the arts and the natural world. His father encouraged these pursuits but also intended him to become a sailor. Young Audubon was prone to seasickness and had little aptitude for math or navigation; and when faced with the military draft upon the outbreak of the Napoleonic Wars, his father helped him immigrate to the US covertly, where he had arranged a joint venture in the hopes of launching his son’s business career.

John James Audubon, as he was now known, aged 18, settled in Pennsylvania and promptly fell in love with the American wilderness. The place held many attractions for him: the vigorous frontier life appealed to his sense of adventure; he formed many important relationships, including that with his future wife; and above all he was overwhelmed by the lush natural beauty of his new home, prompting his childhood fascination with birds and other animals to grow into a naturalist’s passion.

He made painstaking observations of the region’s bird life and carried out detailed studies to learn about their behaviors. Among these experiments were some of the earliest documented uses of bird-banding. He became an expert in taxidermy and amassed a huge collection of specimens.

On a trip to Philadelphia, he visited Charles Willson Peale’s museum of natural history and determined to make a visual record of his own natural studies.

After a series of business enterprises and partnerships came to naught, he finally moved to the Kentucky frontier with his new wife, more determined than ever to procure a living through his wildlife art. He thrived on the rugged life of a woodsman and the new-found kinship he shared with the frontier settlers, and particularly the region’s Native Americans. Immersed in the same world that produced the larger-than-life personas of Daniel Boone and Johnny Appleseed, with a rigorous regime of traveling, hunting, and painting, his character and his work began to assume an identity that was uniquely reflective of his environment.

In 1812 he traveled to Philadelphia and finally acquired American citizenship, only to return home to find years’ worth of drawings destroyed by scavenging rodents. His work was further hampered by the financial depression that rocked the early American republic in the Panic of 1819, which left him and his young family virtually bankrupt and landed him in debtor’s jail. Barely able to eke out a living, he set off as an itinerant artist on a tour through the Deep South; during these difficult times his wife became the main breadwinner by teaching on plantations.

By the early 1820s Audubon had been able to reconstruct his lost collection of bird paintings to an even higher standard, and his natural studies in the South had offered a wealth of inspiration for his new volume. Another trip to Philadelphia in 1824 led to promising contacts – lessons from artist Thomas Sully and recommendations from Charles Bonaparte. Within two years he traveled to England, where he exhibited over 300 of his original works. He became an overnight sensation with his European audience, and immediately set out to start publishing his collection.

With production costs around the modern equivalent of $2 million, the first release of Birds of America was to feature copper plate engravings and hand-colored, life-sized prints produced by a specially employed team of artists and craftsmen. Among its subscribers were many members of the royalty and nobility of England and France.

Audubon’s celebrity status as buckskin-clad hunter and frontiersman did not overshadow his considerable artistic skills, or his scientific prowess – neither of which was lost on his European peers. He was made an honorary member of the Royal Society of London (only the second American so named after Ben Franklin); the Royal Society of Edinburgh; and the Linnaean Society (named for Linnaeus, the famous taxonomist). He was widely invited to lecture on natural science and gave demonstrations on his taxidermy methods which employed wire frames to recreate more life-like poses. One of these events was attended by a fascinated Charles Darwin, then a young student in Edinburgh.

After an extended stay, Audubon finally returned to his family in the US in 1829. Over the following years he continued to make business trips abroad, as well as natural expeditions through vast stretches of North America.

Right: An 1826 oil portrait of Audubon by artist John Syme; it now hangs in the White House

In 1842 he published a new & expanded edition of Birds of America (after having issues with the previous publication & the quality of the copyists’ workmanship). He also embarked on a new project, a work on mammals entitled The Viviparous Quadrupeds of North America, which was left unfinished and later completed by his sons and a close associate. He died in 1851 on the estate he bought for his family near New York’s Hudson River, today the location of the Audubon Park.

Although he had hoped to leave his family materially secure, all but 80 of the copper plates used for the printing of Birds of America were later sold by Audubon’s struggling widow and melted down for scrap. The 435 original watercolor studies she sold to the New York Historical Society.

Wikipedia: John James Audubon

Wikipedia: Audubon’s Birds of America

Audubon Society “John James Audubon – The American Woodsman: Our Namesake and Inspiration;” plus Audubon’s Birds of America online

University of Pittsburgh: Audubon’s Birds of America – complete digitized collection

PBS American Masters: John James Audubon – essay, gallery & timeline

BrainyQuote.com – Audubon quotations

Landseer’s life

Landseer was born in London to a family who encouraged their children’s early artistic talents and cultivated a deep appreciation for nature. Edwin was the youngest of seven surviving children, all of whom became artists. His prodigious abilities won him praise very early on and marked him for a career in painting and illustration, earning him a place in the Royal Academy.

As a young man, he contradicted the popular image of the artist as a troubled, taciturn individual; he was an engaging, charming socialite with a gracious manner and an eager mind.

Most of all he was beloved for the careful and sensitive portrayals of domestic animals and wildlife that established him as the Victorian era’s pre-eminent animal painter. He was intimately acquainted with the anatomies of the animals he painted and with their natural surroundings; from specialty dog breeds favored by the nobility, to the majestic wildlife of the Scottish Highlands, to lowly livestock – all of his subjects received equal treatment.
Landseer, Self-Portrait (c.1840)

All this won him the admiration of the public, his fellow artists, and even royalty – he was a frequent guest & tutor in the home of Queen Victoria (who knighted him in 1850).

Ironically, Landseer’s best-known works are not paintings at all; the four giant bronze lions at the base of Nelson’s Column in Trafalgar Square in London were one of his final great accomplishments, and evidence of his equal talents as a sculptor.

Sadly, as his health gradually declined later in adulthood, increasing substance abuse caused irreparable damage both to his career and to his mind. His death in 1873 marked the passing of a national icon; he was mourned throughout the country and buried with honors in St. Paul’s Cathedral.

Above: “Monarch of the Glen” (1851);
Below: “Heads of Sheep and Cattle”

“Sleeping Bloodhound” (1835)

Influence and style

“If people only knew as much about painting as I do, they would never buy my pictures.”
(Sir Edwin Henry Landseer)

Landseer is certainly the best known artist of the 19th century’s animalier movement. Because his abilities were widely recognized during his lifetime, and his popularity transcended the boundaries of class and rank, his fame has continued to the present day.

Fortunately, Landseer was also a prolific artist, so there are an enormous number of beautiful and moving paintings to enjoy.

“Saved” (original 1856 – this is one of several widely-circulated engravings)

One of the hallmarks of his paintings is the tendency to portray his animal subjects with highly anthropomorphic qualities, often in sentimental terms that suited Victorian sensibilities. His depictions of dogs, for instance, as loyal companions and guileless defenders of children and the innocent, emphasized the virtues of nature over its harshness and unpredictability. But beyond the Romantic idealism, his powerful grasp of animal anatomy and the sensitive, respectful treatment of their character endowed them with a dignity usually reserved only for human subjects.

“A Distinguished Member of the Humane Society” (1831) Landseer substituted a model for his depiction of a London legend – a stray Newfoundland called Bob who made at least 23 recorded water rescues.

Today, it is his paintings of dogs on which his fame primarily rests. He championed the role of the heroic rescue dog and in particular the black and white Newfoundlands that now bear his name.

Few breeds could have been better suited to personify Landseer’s quintessential ideal of the gentle, devoted canine. In fact it was a Landseer belonging to the English poet Lord Byron who inspired the legendary encomium that has come to describe the best of a dog’s character:

“Near this Spot
are deposited the Remains of one
who possessed Beauty without Vanity,
Strength without Insolence,
Courage without Ferocity,
and all the Virtues of Man without his Vices.”

(Epitaph to a Dog)

Incidentally, the Newfoundland Club of America has a very good page on Byron and his beloved Boatswain, and also an excellent section on Landseer and his work, including the stories behind many of his animal paintings:

NCA: Sir Edwin Henry Landseer and his Gallery of Animal Paintings

“Prince George’s Favorites” (1835)

See also:

Wikipedia: Sir Edwin Henry Landseer

Wikipedia: Thomas Landseer (Edwin’s eldest brother)

Left: The Girl with the Pearl Earring, originally called Girl Wearing a Turban – thought to be Vermeer’s eldest daughter.

Vermeer was born in 1632 in Delft, Netherlands. He has been dubbed the “Sphinx of Delft” for his confounding obscurity. Unlike many of the Old Masters, there is little documentation of his life, his training, or his work. He produced relatively few paintings during his lifetime; never traveled far beyond his hometown; left behind no drawings or studies to show his method; and worked with a guild but never had students to pass on his techniques.

Most of his paintings portray the industry and accomplishment of the privileged Dutch middle class, despite the fact that he worked during a period of war and economic depression. In fact many of his original works were sold off after his death in 1675 to relieve his widow and children of debts he had accrued in trying to support his large family. While he did not lead a lavish lifestyle, he must have been dependent to a large extent on wealthy patrons.

Although little is known of his painting process, an apparent signature of his work is the underpainting technique which he used to imitate the subtleties of refracted and diffused light. His portrayals of undertones, shadows and reflections are considered the most accurate and precise of all the great artists.

Above: Young Woman with a Water Pitcher – quintessential Vermeer, depicting a tranquil domestic scene. Notice again the blue-yellow color combination.

Another Vermeer signature is the consistently cool color palette and the particular combination of complementary yellows and blues. This is a prominent feature in his most famous works, and appears in some form in nearly all of his paintings. He especially favored blue midtones such as cornflower and made unparalleled use of the rare and expensive lapis lazuli pigment with striking effect.

The Geographer and The Astronomer. I love the way the geographer gazes out of the window – very typical of Vermeer. Another artist might have chosen to depict this scholar immersed in his charts; but here Vermeer captures the soul of imagination and exploration.

See a critical comparison of the two here and here.

VERMEER AND REMBRANDT: A comparison

Vermeer’s caliber ranks him in a class with another great Dutch painter, Rembrandt, whose careers slightly overlapped (Rembrandt lived 1606-1679). Like Rembrandt, his style depends on strong chiaroscuro effects and solid, detailed composition. But there are several notable features separating the two great artists.

Rembrandt favored warm, heavy tones; Vermeer worked in cool colors with a marked preference for blues. His style of underpainting helped him to achieve remarkable crispness and transparency.

Among Rembrandt’s favorite subjects were biblical scenes, while Vermeer painted almost exclusively in genre and avoided the common religious and mythological themes.

Rembrandt’s pieces have a strong sense of motion and and a flair for the ostentatious and exotic (although this tone changed decidedly in his later works). Vermeer’s subjects are pensive, tranquil – almost existential in quality. It’s worth noting how many paintings out of Vermeer’s entire output show individuals gazing out of windows. This is a distinctive characteristic that crops up repeatedly in his work.

Contrast this with a strong trend in Rembrandt’s paintings: his penchant for self-depiction. Vermeer is not known to have painted a single self-portrait.

Girl Interrupted at her Music: An especially beautiful example of Vermeer’s careful and candid treatment of faces

Further reading:

Virtual Vermeer – very good site dedicated to exploring Vermeer’s work, his life and times

The Essential Vermeer website

Biography and resources from Artble.com

National Gallery of Art: Virtual Exhibit – Vermeer’s “Woman Holding a Balance”

If you tend to be a perfectionist (like me), it can be hard not to get hung up with the tiny details and lose focus. I usually face this toward the finish of a painting, when last-ditch efforts to “get it just right” leave me with a potentially never-ending project. This is the point where I tell myself, “It’s almost done – just focus on the essentials and only fix what’s needed in order to have it ready for framing.” Sometimes it’s helpful to set yourself a deadline in order to avoid this kind of dilemma.

As artists, it’s our nature to keep challenging ourselves to do even better things, yet we also have to learn to work within self-imposed limits and move on, or we’ll never truly accomplish anything. It’s a hard line to straddle, but a lesson well worth the learning.