American Artist Interview with the Painter Jacob Collins

Male Figure by Jacob Collins (Graphite and white chalk on paper, 2001) From Jacob Collins’ website.

If there is one living painter who combines talent, practiced craft, and high intellect, it’s Jacob Collins. Based in New York City, he is one of a small group of contemporary painters looking back at the tradition of Academic painting.

Thinking Man by Jacob Collins (Oil on canvas, 30 X 20 in., 2004). From Jacob Collins’ website.

Last year, I had the opportunity to spend a weekend with Jacob. His passion is electrifying. With it, he has opened three schools for the training of new artists in traditional academic techiniques, such as rigorous draftsmanship, first from plaster casts and, then, nude models. He is uncompromising in his approach to his own work and instills the same in his own students. The results can be seen in his own work.

Fire Island Sunset by Jacob Collins (Oil, 2004, 24 X 38 in.) Private Collection. Illustrated on the American Artist Magazine website.

Allison Malifronte of American Artist Magazine recently talked with Jacob. The interview pincipally focuses on his latest school, The Hudson River School for Landscape, based on the group of artists from the nineteenth century by the same name. Here is an excerpt from Malifronte’s conversation. (Note “AA” refers to American Artist Magazine, not a twelve-step program.):

AA: If you could offer an aspiring landscape painter one piece of advice, what would it be?

JC: Last year I read Asher B. Durand’s “Letters on Landscape Painting,” and I was struck by the advice he gave to aspiring landscape artists to draw the individual pieces of the landscape for as long as it takes to understand them before putting it all together. He recommended perhaps even years of drawing branches of trees and rocks, outcroppings, and clusters of trees with a sharp pencil, seeing them as the alphabet of the landscape. I was impressed with his analogy that trying to paint a landscape without learning this alphabet was like trying to write a novel without learning the letters and words of language.

(For the full article, click here.)

As lover of art, I appreciate this kind coverage of Jacob Collins. It shows that there is a greater diversity in current art production than glossy magazines and blockbuster contemporary exhibitions would lead many to believe. And, Malifronte’s interview focuses on the craftsmanship of Jacob’s work. Her questions do a wonderful job of capturing what drives his passion on ground level, not just a 10,000-foot view of his work. This is an approach that makes American Artist Magazine such a valuable resource for not only artists, but for art historians, dealers, and collectors of art. (No, they did not pay me to write that.)

As an art historian, it allows me to understand what is happening in the mind of an artist looking back at the nineteenth century that doesn’t survive in remaining nineteenth century journals. I have read Eugene Delacroix’s journals (and others’), and I do not feel that he wrote much of his working method down in a context that we can easily piece it together. This could be because he lived in a culture where much of his approach was ubiquitous and mundane. The shortening of Jacob’s name in the article to “JC” may be most appropriate because he is resurrecting not just the art, but the understanding–and, therefore, the appreciation–of it.

For more paintings by Jacob Collins, I highly suggest visiting his website here. It has a large collection of images of his work. (My only complaint is that there is not more recent work available on it.)

Masters & Pupils: The Artistic Succession from Perugino to Manet (1480-1880)

Masters & Pupils by Gert Rudolf Flick

Cover of the book by Gert-Rudolf Flick

Many would be surprised to learn that Manet, considered by many to be the first artist of the modern period, was the last in a long line of teachers going back to Perugino. In his book Masters& Pupils: The Artistic Succession from Perugino to Manet 1480 to 1880, Gert-Rudolf Flick traces the artistic genealogy of Manet connecting him to Carracci, Raphael and many of the greatest artists in Western history.

From the inside flap:

The line of descent that connects Perugino with Manet is made up of just eighteen artists. Some are household names such as Raphael and David. Others, for example, Horace Le Blanc and Louis Boullogne, have fallen into obscurity. All are connected by a common bond: the belief that art could be taught and learned, and that skill and knowledge would be passed on from an older artist to a younger. With Manet, the succession came to a halt, marking the end of a great tradition but also the beginning of the modern art wold, in which the desirability of teaching art has been thrown into question.

Flick traces the genealogy with an in-depth exploration of each artist in the line–eighteen in all–together with examples of each artist’s work.

These days, we do not talk much about the dynastic traditions carried down from one artist to another. For example, we talk of philosophical connections between Warhol and Banksy, but not where they studied. The idea of training an artist seems counter to the freedom inherent in our conception of “artistic expression.” How can an artist be trained by someone and, then, be expected to create something worthwhile?

The idea that tradition and training stifles an artist’s god-given talent may have begun with Manet. Together with other artists of his day, he had an antagonistic relationship with the art establishment in Paris.
In the last half of the nineteenth century, the annual Paris Salons were the premiere showcase for painters. Over 20,000 people would visit the Salon daily. Artists whose work appeared in the show were much more likely to be commercially successful. For every painting shown in the Salon ten were rejected.

A group of elite people, a mix of government appointees and past winners judged the Salon and accepted or rejected paintings. These judges were often teachers in the Ecole des Beaux-Arts and would reward their own students. It was a system that had tremendous stakes for artists who felt artistic merit was often subject to nepotism and rigid decisions. (For a very entertaining and accurate description of this struggle in the last quarter of the nineteenth century, I suggest reading Ross King’s The Judgment of Paris: The Revolutionary Decade that Gave the World Impressionism.)

It was, I believe, this institutional favoritism–teacher favoring student–in the academic system that led to the ultimate downfall of the master and pupil system. It bred a resentment in Manet’s generation, ultimately resulting a series of artistic movements (e.g. Impressionism, Divisionism, Futurism, etc.) that opposed academic training. By rejecting the system and encouraging others to do the same, Manet laid the foundation for its destruction.

Flick remains even-handed in his approach to the topic; not casting doubt on the idea that artists are born not trained. Reading the book, it is difficult to not come to the conclusion that the system should have been reformed rather than lost.

While it is true that there are many talented artists today, few of them can participate in a system that allows them to instill that talent in another generation. As a result, each generation discovers painting for themselves. This leads to a lot of fresh ideas, but severs them and us from the experience that leads to deeper understanding.

If Newton “stood on the shoulders of Giants,” where do the artists from Manet to today place their feet? That is the question that haunts this book and one that we need to have a serious debate about.

BADA London 2008

The cover of the official guide to BADA

Right on the heels of TEFAF in Maastricht (See previous post), I visited the British Antique Dealers’ Association (BADA) Annual Fair in London. It runs from March 5 to 11. I wish it would have lasted longer.

The Fair gathers Fine and Decorative Art dealers from all over Great Britain. Somewhat naively, I had assumed that all the major art dealers would be located in London. I was wrong. For those interested in meeting knowledgeable dealers of a wide variety of affordable and high-end works of art, this is a great place to start.

Front entrance to BADA, held in a large tent in York Square, London (SW3).

Having just come back from TEFAF in Maastricht, it was hard not to draw comparisons between the two. BADA was much more personal. There was less pretense.

Picture taken in the first of three large rooms at the Fair.
I immediately had conversations with dealers that I didn’t in Maastricht, and their works came in a wider range of prices.

As expected, there were many paintings–my particular interest–from Great Britain, but I found dealers with strong networks in Continental nineteenth-century painting as well. I would post images of these paintings, but dealers were concerned about distributing sold works online. I did, however, get the seller Henry Poole & Co. to allow me to post a suit made for Winston Churchill for sale at BADA.

How British.

A suit made for Winston Churchill by Henry Poole & Co. on sale at BADA.

TEFAF Maastricht 2008

Cover from the guide to TEFAF

Friday, I took the train from London’s St. Pancras International to Maastricht. It was the opening weekend of The European Fine Art Foundation (TEFAF) held in Maastricht in the Netherlands from March 7 to 16, 2008.
Unlike museums with limited budgets, dealers at TEFAF have the cash and motivation to restore paintings. Nearly every painting had a new coat of shiny, barely-dried varnish. On one hand, paintings looked nearly new. On the other hand, some paintings had been through so many iterations of cleaning and varnishing that paint had become dangerously thin, obscuring brushwork and coloring. I often felt I was looking at them through an unfocused lens.

One of the many booths dedicated to Old Masters paintings

It was overwhelming to see so many Old Masters works under one roof. I was especially impressed by Richard L. Feigen & Co. (New York) and Whitfield Fine Art Ltd. (London). I could name a dozen others dealers in the Old Masters paintings wing. I wish I could say the same for nineteenth-century art.

There were myriad Monets and a plethora of Pissaros, but where were the academic painters?! I saw a Gerome, a L’Hermitte, and a Breton, but their colleagues from the Ecole des Beaux-Arts were poorly represented. Those that I saw were overpriced by 50 percent or more compared to my previous experience buying at auctions and from dealers in France and Belgium.

As a buyer who deals principally in nineteenth-century paintings, this was not the best venue. It might have been different if I were looking for Old Masters and Modern works.

Many of the dealers I know and have visited in London were there (e.g. Richard Green with his sons Mathew and Jonathan, The Fine Art Society, Whitford Fine Art.) They had saved their best work for the event. By the time I arrived on Saturday, the Exhibition had already been open for two days and several of the best paintings were already sold. (The early bird gets the worm . . . or Bruegel, Monet, Rembrant, van Huysum, etc.)

Also, TEFAF seems to be more for people who want to see and be seen than for those hunting for a deal. Those of us who have sold art before know that there are some people who buy something if they like it, regardless of price. This has both negative and positive consequences. Inflated prices make current stock more valuable, but they also lead to unrealistic expectations by buyers and sellers

I was surprised to learn from conversations with a few–to remain nameless–dealers that some 30 to 40 percent of their annual revenue comes from sales at Maastricht. So, either I’m missing something or there is a huge advantage to celebrity-level art events.

As a city, Maastricht is beautiful. It was too early in the year for tulips, but the town square, restaurants and entertainment overpowered any disappointment from the cold weather. A bit of advice: Book dinner reservations in advance, otherwise you will be eating at the bar.

Picture of the “old bridge” downtown Maastricht.

Spanish nineteenth-century exhibition at the Prado Museum

Mariano Fortuny,

Mariano Fortuny (1838-1873), Viejo desnudo al sol (1871), from the Prado Museum.

The Prado Museum in Madrid is showing selections from its collection of nineteenth-century Spanish paintings and sculpture. The exhibition, titled El Siglo XIX en el Prado (The 19th Century in the Prado), will be on view until April 2008.

According to the Museum, works from theperiod make up its largest and most unexamined collection. (Paintings in the exhibition have not been on display since 1993, when only a selection was on view.)

Spain had a vibrant painting culture in the nineteenth century. Unfortunately, it has been largely forgotten by Spain and ignored by the rest of Europe. Most art historians, Spanish or otherwise, can’t name a Spanish artist working between the death of Francisco de Goya (1828) and the career of Pablo Picasso in the last quarter of the century.

In my opinion, the artists and their work are anything but forgettable.

Manuel Dominguez,

Manuel Domínguez (1840-1906), Seneca after cutting his viens . . . (1871), from the Prado Museum.

Javier Barón, the Head of the Nineteenth Century Painting at the Prado, has largely the force behind the exhibition. Together with José Luis Díez, also of the Prado, he has written an excellent book introducing the collection. (Unfortunately, so far, it has only been published in Spanish.) At 518 pages (an nearly 10 lbs.), it is a major contribution to a under-published field.

Carlos de Haes, La canal de Mancorbo en los Picos de Europa, 1874

Carlos de Haes (1826-1898), La Canal de Mancorbo en los Picos de Europa (1874), from the Prado Museum.

The works on view are evidence of how profoundly Spanish artists were affected by their own past masters (e.g. Velásquez, Ribera, Goya, Murillo), Italian Masters (e.g. Titian, Veronese, Michelangelo, Raphael), and contemporary moverments (e.g. Romanticism, Claccisism, Nazarene painters, Realism, etc.).
Since the opening of the Exhibition, I have had the honor of meeting with Javier Barón and other Spanish scholars. It seems that this exhibition is only the beginning of a new understanding, if not appreciation, of a forgotten century of painters and sculptors.

Ecole des Beaux-Arts: Faded Glory

I just came back from Paris, where I was doing research on nineteenth nentury painters who studied at the highly admired Ecole des Beaux-Arts in Paris.

The Ecole was the most important and influential school for painting in the nineteenth century. Arguably, it is the most influential institution in the history of painting, having lead trends during the majority of the nineteenth century, when there were more than 300,000. Founded in 1648, it trained artists for more than 350 years. Some of the artists include David, Ingres, Gerome, Delacroix, and Bouguereau to name very, very few. (For a longer history of the Ecole online visit the Wikipedia entry or for more, in-depth reading see Albert Biome’s book The Academy and French Painting in the Nineteenth Century.)

While in Paris, I decided to stop by the Ecole. I wanted to see the great institution that produced great works that hang in great museums around the world. I was surprised at what I found.

(Main bathroom through the front hall of the Ecole)

(View of the Mulberry Tree Courtyard at the Ecole, with students eating lunch)

(Another shot of the courtyard with a statue and graffiti)


(A hall along the courtyard. Pay attention to the pealing paint on the ceiling.)

(Another statue with graffiti in the main courtyard)

The building is in decay at best and a victim of blatant neglect at worst. While Ingres paintings have rooms dedicate to their viewing in the Louvre, the institution Ingres dedicated his life to is rotting.

It is now a school that specializes in modern architecture. I asked several of the students and two people who worked in the main office if they could tell me where I could find the former studios of Gerome, Bouguereau, and Ingres. No one recognized the first two names, and they had no idea where I could find Ingres well-respected workshop.

It was a sad experience.

Can anything be done about it?
Should anything be done?

Prix de Rome: One of the world’s most prestigious awards remembered

David

(The Sabine Women Enforcing Peace by Running Between the Combatants
detail by Jacques Louis David-Winner of the 1774 Prix de Rome)

In 1663, the French government, under the direction of the King, instituted the Prix de Rome. Its purpose was to send the nation’s most promising artists, architects, and composers to Rome to learn to work classical styles of the masters. A list of the winners, originally compiled on wikipedia, is found below.
Winners of the Prix de Rome became key figures in shaping art and culture when they returned home. They were instructors in the Ecole des Beaux-Arts in Paris and judges of the Paris Salon and composers for European opera houses.
They were seen as guardians of classical ideals and virtue in the arts by one generation. By another generation, beginning with the French Impressionists, they were sometime seen as too restrictive in their classical views.

After 320 years, the Prix de Rome was ended during the 1968 student revolts in France. There have been attempts to reignite the Prix de Rome. The most recent is in the Netherlands.


(You can read more about the Prix de Rome and its history at the
official website half-heartedly maintained by the French government.)

Prix de Rome Winners:

The Architecture Category

The Painting Category

The Sculpture Category

The Engraving Category

The engravery prize was created in 1804 and suppressed in 1968 by André Malraux, the minister of the Culture.

The Musical Composition Category

“Neo-classicist” Graydon Parrish

NPR recently did a story on the artist Graydon Parrish. (Click here to listen to the story.) The story centers around his painting memorializing the fall of the Trade Center Towers.

The Cycle of Terror by Graydon Parrish (8′ x 18′)

The painting relies heavily on symbolism and comes with a four-page pamphlet describing the contents of the painting (e.g. a burning US Constitution, a faded Statue of Liberty).  It begs the question: In a world where symbolism is not readily understood, can we return to the style of painting of the Old Masters?

Deaccessioning: When Museums Trade Old for New

Artemis and Stag

de-ac-ces-sion (v. t.)

To remove and sell (a work of art) from a museum’s collection, especially in order to purchase other works of art.

Webster’s Dictionary

Recently, the Albright-Knox Art Gallery, the principal museum of Buffalo, New York, decided to sell a number of important art works in its permanent collection with the intent of “acquiring and exhibiting art of the present.”

Among the works that will be “traded up” are:

1. Artemis and Stage, a greco-roman statue

2. An ancient Chinese Bronze (there are only a handful in the world)

3 A life-size, Tenth-century statue of the god Shiva, that a Sotheby’s specialist told the Associated Press is “the most important Indian sculpture ever to appear on the market.”

In addition, many paintings by old masters will be auctioned off.

Tom L. Freudenheim, a former Museum Director and a current member of the Association of Art Museum Directors (AAMD), grew up in Buffalo. He wrote an article published in the Wall Street Journal condemning the move by the Art Gallery to sell its collection:

Museums are devoting more and more resources to acquiring large amounts of contemporary art, work about which the judgment of history — supposedly what museums are all about — is far from settled. Such acquisition policies may be acceptable, but not when done by getting rid of masterpieces whose importance has been validated by time and critical opinion and that provide a context for the work of the present. Ironically, this plan is driven by perceptions about the notably erratic and currently inflated contemporary art market, rather than by any dire financial crisis.

He continues:

The message is, once again, that those entrusted with the sacred task of safeguarding our public patrimony have become as irresponsible as the money-grubbing executives who have given corporate America such a bad name. The works of art in the Albright-Knox Art Gallery don’t belong to the directors or curators, who move in and out of communities as job opportunities present themselves. Nor are they the property of the trustees, who are meant to hold them in trust for the people of Buffalo, but who now show that they cannot be trusted.

It’s hard not to agree with Mr. Freudenheim; however, I took a few minutes to visit the Albright-Knox website for their side of the story, and, while they did not offer any information on the upcoming deaccessioning auction, they did have a mission statement that seemed to support their actions:

The Albright-Knox Art Gallery, one of the nation’s oldest public arts organizations, has a clear and compelling mission to acquire, exhibit, and preserve both modern and contemporary art. It focuses especially on contemporary art, with an active commitment to taking a global and multidisciplinary approach to the presentation, interpretation, and collection of the artistic expressions of our times. In an enriching, dynamic, and vibrant environment that embraces diverse cultures and traditions, the Gallery seeks to serve a broad and far-reaching audience.

To validate that this has always been their policy, I used Archive.org’s Way Back Maching to find out whether or not this is a recent mission statement or long-stated goal. Sure enough, this has always been their statement.

The question then becomes, not “why are they selling these priceless items?” but, with an emphasis on contemporary art, “why did they ever acquire these old, priceless pieces in the first place?”

“Combat Art” in Iraq: US Marine Michael Fay

Things That Go Boom by US Marine Michael Fay
from his blog, http://mdfay.blogspot.com/

In today’s Wall Street Journal, Daniel Grant talk about US Marine “combat artists” currently working in Iraq. From the article:

“The military uses artists in a variety of roles. Most create recruiting posters, maps and diagrams, and animation for interactive military-training software, but some also produce combat art. Those soldiers will go into the field with a platoon, drawing and painting scenes of military life.”

From “This Military Basic Training Is in Art” by Daniel Grant (Wall Stret Journal | October 18, 2006)

A quick search on the Google took me to the blog of Michael Fay, who describes himself as “one of three combat artists for the United States Marine Corps.” His blog (http://mdfay.blogspot.com/) features work, in various stages, that he has done in the field.

Monday’s Marine by US Marine Michael Fay
from his blog, http://mdfay.blogspot.com/
Wounded Warrior by US Marine Michael Fay
from his blog, http://mdfay.blogspot.com/

His paintings evoke for me the kind of 19-century painting done by the French artists accompanying Napoleon on the Nile. (There is currently an exhibition on this French art at the Dahesh Museum in New York.) It’s a wonderful surprise to know that the Military is supporting this kind of reflection on their work.