Showing posts with label art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label art. Show all posts

Thursday, February 3, 2011

The Children of Elizabeth DePeyster and Charles Willson Peale

The Peale Family, c. 1773, Charles Willson Peale*

Professor Ulrich spoke briefly about the family of Charles Willson Peale in a lecture this week. Here is a list of the 17 children born to Charles Willson Peale and Elizabeth DePeyster Peale:
  1. Margaret Jane, b. 1763 (they start out tame)
  2. James Willson, b. 1765
  3. Eleanor, b. 1770 (names for Charles' mother)
  4. Margaret Van Bordley, b. 1772 (ideas?)
  5. Raphaelle, b. 1774 (named for Raphael)
  6. Angelica Kauffmann, b.1775 (named for Angelica Kauffmann, painter)
  7. Rembrandt, b. 1778 (named for Rembrandt van Rijn, painter)
  8. Titian Ramsay, b. 1780 (named for Titian and [maybe?] Allan Ramsay, painters)
  9. Rubens, b. 1784 (named for Peter Paul Rubens, painter)
  10. Sophonisba Augusciola, b. 1786 (named for Sophonisba Augusciola, painter)
  11. Rosalba Carriera, b. 1788 (named for Rosalba Carriera, painter)
  12. Vandyke, b. 1792 (named for Anthony van Dyke, painter)
  13. Charles Linnaeus, b. 1794 (named for Carl Linnaeus, naturalist)
  14. Benjamin Franklin, b. 1795 (Franklin merits inclusion among the great scientists and artists)
  15. Sybilla Miriam, b. 1797 (named for Maria Sibylla Merian, illustrator and naturalist)
  16. Titian Ramsay, b. 1799 (the older brother of the same name died in 1798)
  17. Elizabeth DePeyster, b. 1802 (Elizabeth DePeyster Peale died soon after the birth of her youngest daughter).

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Gravestone of the Day: Elizabeth Reed

Elizabeth Reed, 1803, Phipps Street, Charlestown, MA
 Sacred to the Memory
of Elizabeth Reed
Daut of Mr JOSEPH
& Miss ELIZABETH REED
died Septr 1st 1803

I love this tree. These carvings are usually so rigid, but this one has a sense of movement. It truly looks like the tree is mourning. The Farber Collection attributes a similar stone dedicated to another Reed daughter to the Lamson shop, though it does not differentiate between the work of Joseph, Caleb, and David Lamson.  Other carvings may be more precise, but this one is special.

Monday, May 3, 2010

Annushka's Hat

Annushka, 1767, by Ivan Argunov

I found this little lady and her dainty hat over at The Dutchess of Devonshire's Gossip Guide to the 18th Century. Her name is Annushka and she was a Kalmyk serf in Russia. The artist, Ivan Argunov, was also a serf belonging to the same noble family.

Friday, November 13, 2009

Bostonian Society Exhibit


Earlier in the week, Boston 1775 linked to a nice little online exhibit put on by the Bostonian Society (the people who run the Old State House). The exhibit features material objects that belonged to or were created by 18th-century women and girls. The interface is not obvious (click on numbers on the watch face to access different objects), but the pictures are lovely.

I especially enjoyed the mourning ring (pictured above) and the 1821 coffin plate. If I remember correctly, there is a character in one of Lucy Maud Montgomery's later Anne novels who collects coffin plates. As I child, I thought that that sounded like an interesting hobby, though, now that I think about it, I wonder how she got her hands on them.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Field Trip!



Today, Professor Lepore and I took the undergrads into Boston to spend the day exploring the 18th-century city. They are beginning to write their papers for our American Revolution seminar, so it was important for them to kickstart their historical imaginations. It was a beautiful day and a very successful trip.

We started the morning on the Common, talking about the occupation and Bostonians' reactions to the presence of the soldiers. Then, it was on to the Granary Burying Ground and Kings Chapel, where Prof. Lepore generously allowed me to say a few words about gravestones and memorialization. In King's Chapel, I had a chance to sit in Ame and Elizabeth Cuming's pew (#36), which was a real treat. They had a window seat just a few boxes back from Governor Hutchinson.

Friday, October 16, 2009

John Brown

My parents are collectors. Every inch of wall and shelf space in their house is covered with knick knacks, paintings, framed textiles, antique tools, interesting bits of pottery, children's drawings, postcards, and every other type of object you could imagine.

Prominent among their decorations is their collection of Civil War antiques and memorabilia. They have several modern prints (mostly of the 28th Massachusetts), but the bulk of their collection is made up of antiques: cases of framed GAR medals, souvenirs from the 50th anniversary encampment at Gettysburg, a framed newspaper from the day after the Lincoln assassination, old tins and placards using Civil War images to sell whiskey and soap, framed covers of Harper's Weekly from the war years, and on and on. There are also books, movies, and music, but it's the walls that you notice first.

One of the objects that always drew my eye — and still does — is a black and white print of Thomas Hovenden's The Last Moments of John Brown (1884) that hangs in the living room.

I have probably spent a full week of my life contemplating this image over the years, but I still don't know what I think of John Brown. If I accept that the Civil War was ultimately righteous because of what it accomplished, how can I condemn Brown for his savagery? On the other hand, if I believe that domestic terrorism is repugnant, how can I celebrate him?

Thursday, February 26, 2009

On Art and Criticism

It's been quite a day here at VPI. I usually get fewer than 50 hits per day, mostly from people looking for gravestones or Puritan names, but yesterday, more than 3,000 people visited the site.

It seems that Internet Personality Jason Kottke linked to my old Pixar post, thus sending quite a flood of readers and commenters my way. Thanks, Jason — I appreciate the attention!

Many of the people who have commented on or linked to that post have engaged meaningfully with my central arument: Pixar movies generally present a male=neutral, female=particular understanding of gender. I appreciate the feedback and the constructive criticisms offered in good faith. Some good points from commenters/friends/linking sites include:
  • WALL-E has the potential to be gender subversive. 
  • The Incredibles might deserve more than 5/10. (This is a perfectly valid argument that hinges on criteria — I was thinking that 5/10 indicated balance and was a perfectly respectable score.)
  • Reading these movies through other categories of analysis might also be fruitful.
I'm happy to take a break from reading a foot-thick biography of Charles II to talk about gender in some of my favorite movies. It's like vacation.

Yet, there is one criticism I just can't wrap my head around. Several commenters (especially at sites that have linked to this one) have argued that Pixar movies are not appropriate texts for serious analysis. This generally takes the form of They're just kids' movies!!!! or Movies are just for entertainment!!!!, etc. These commenters usually accuse me of over-analyzing the films and/or projecting "gender issues" onto them. Occasionally, they accuse me of wanting to censor Pixar or enforce some sort of animation affirmative action policy.

These people are not arguing that my analysis is wrong, they are dismissing it on the grounds that Pixar movies can bear no serious analysis.

Really?

I firmly belive that cultural productions (movies, novels, art, clothing, furniture, architecture, etc.) embody cultural values and are appropriate texts for analysis. The idea that a movie is "just entertainment" makes no sense to me. A film's primary purpose can be to entertain or to make money for a studio, but it is also a rich cultural text.

Do these commenters go into museums and limit their comments on Monet to, "Ooh, pretty?" Do they read Longfellow and say, "Yay, it rhymes!" I know that my definition of "text" is fairly broad — as a material culture person, I believe that anything from hairstyles to bones in a trash pit can be read for cultural meaning — but surely we can all agree that fine art, books, and films can bear critical analysis, can't we?

By treating Pixar movies as serious texts, I mean them no disrespect —in fact, I would argue that I am showing them more respect than people who seem to think that they are mere baubles for distracting children (I also have a healthy respect for children and their capacity to look beyond "shiny"). Maybe people heard "criticism" and thought "hate" rather than "a meaningful engagement with the ideas presented in this piece of art."

What do you think? Are all artifacts fair game for cultural analysis? Or is a talking fish just a talking fish?

Saturday, December 13, 2008

Rubbings and Preservation

I have never done a gravestone rubbing and generally consider myself to be opposed to the practice. Perhaps this is because I got my start in gravestone studies in Northeastern Connecticut, where many of the gravestones are made of delicate red sandstone and rubbing is absolutely forbidden due to their fragility.

Yet, I must concede that a good gravestone rubbing is a thing of tremendous beauty. I once saw a rubbing of the Charles Bardin stone that nearly took my breath away — the technique made the image of God seem to be bathed in light rather than surrounded by monotone slate.

I was poking through the Farber Gravestone Collection yesterday and came across some stunning rubbings. Just look how a well-done rubbing illuminates the details on the Jonathan Wyatt stone (1775) in Newport:
They're lovely, but also useful. This rubbing of the Cuffe Gibbs stone (1768) preserves some details of the stone that no longer survive (ex: "40" no longer legible):
Of course, the very act of rubbing may be partially responsible for the current state of the stone, which is why I do not advocate taking rubbings. On the other hand, if it is done professionally, it can be a useful preservation tool. The Farber Collection does not say when their photos/rubbings were taken (one of the many annoyances of using that collection), but the introductory essay mentions that some of their images are Forbes' work, and it wouldn't surprise me if most of the rubbings were hers.

I can appreciate these beautiful reproductions, but I'm not sure that the good outweighs the possibility for harm. For now, I'll stick to photographs.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Mourning Under the Willows

 
In the years following George Washington's death in 1799, popular mourning art was all the rage. One trendy motif was an elaboration on the urn-and-willow design, featuring a mourner leaning on a memorial obelisk under a willow tree. Sometimes, the obelisk will have the name of the deceased or a short epitaph painted/engraved/embroidered on it.

This motif can be found in British mourning jewelry from the last quarter of the 18th century. The English bracelet at right was made to memorialize Ann Read, who died on March 8, 1789. By the way, I am a big fan of the Art of Mourning website — they have lots of great jewelry and other mourning art and, what's even better, great pictures of it.

While the mourner is typically a woman (or group of women), male mourners appear on jewelry and gravestones commemorating the deaths of young women. The English mourning ring at left is a man's ring. Its inscription is dedicated to Elizabeth Legrew (d. 4 July 1791 at age 34). Similarly, the gravestone at the top of this post memorializes Sally Gardner of Harvard, MA (d. 18 February 1818 at age 21). Presumably, the man leaning on her obelisk represents her husband, Jerome Gardner. This is a beautiful stone — I love the delicate vines and the hat.

This design was rendered in all sorts of media during the early 19th century. In addition to gravestones and jewelry, it shows up in lithographs, watercolors, and needlework. One influential lithograph entitled "America Lamenting Her Loss" (at right, click to enlarge) was reproduced by the thousands, popularizing the motif across the United States. For more on popular representations of Washington following his death, see "Reading Portrait Prints: New Ways of Seeing Old Faces" by Wendy Wick Reaves over at Common-Place.


While it is not possible to draw a direct line from any particular lithograph to the watercolors of Eunice Griswold Holcombe Pinney or the needlework of young girls like Sarah Sabin, it is easy to see how so-called "folk" artists borrowed designs from commercially-produced images.

I don't mean to knock folk art, but I do mean to undermine the romanticized idea that "folk" art is produced by people who are isolated from popular culture and the market. At the American Folk Art Museum in New York, the material manifestations of 19th-century popular culture are exhibited in the same space as the works of Henry Darger and other "outsider" artists. This annoys me because the organization of the museum puts popular culture from an earlier era on the same footing as weird modern stuff, implying that both are out of the mainstream because they are unfamiliar to the modern viewer. I think that this fallacious equation gives people the wrong idea about 19th-century culture by calling to mind a naive and pastoral people who toiled away in simple honesty, close to the land, uncorrupted by the evils of modernity. Also, I object to applying the term "folk" to Henry Darger because "folk" implies a tradition maintained over a period of time by, you know, some folk, and Darger is a solitary loon.


The mourner-with-obelisk motif is an example of a design that originated with high-end European artisans (jewelers, in this case), was popularized through the commercial press, and was eventually adopted by obscure artists whose work is now regarded as "folk." I have nothing against early American "folk" art — I love the aesthetic and think that popular art opens a window into the lives of early American women.  Still, we shouldn't fetishize vernacular expressions of popular motifs. The Mary Frances Stoddard stone (1818, Providence, RI) is charming, but it is also material evidence of a far-reaching network of popular and commercial culture that stretched from elite English parlors to the humble artisans of New England.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Wordle = Love

This is just about the best thing ever. I made a bunch of "word clouds" and posted them over on American Creation (I hope they don't mind). Here are some more:

My thesis, Sally Jackson's Wedding Dress: Women’s Consumption and the Nonimportation Movement in Boston:
 
Connecticut Charter (1662): 
 
The Code of Hammurabi as translated by L.W. King:
 
Mississippi's Declaration of Secession:


I could do this all day.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Statistics

Last semester, I was working on a project that involved some demographic statistics from seventeenth-century Windsor, Connecticut. I soon realized that I did not know enough about statistics to make sense of them. Thus, this semester finds me taking an intro-level statistics course. Although it is sometimes difficult to hear the lecturer over the inane babble of the undergrads who refuse to stop chattering just because class has begun, I am learning quite a lot and enjoying it.

Today, I came across this art installation:



Who says statistics and humanities don't mix?
Bravo, Icaro Doria.