Keepers of the Flame at the Norman Rockwell Museum

Norman Rockwell Shuffleton’s Barbershop, 1950 oil on canvas
Note: This painting, currently part of Keepers of the Flame, was recently sold by the 
Berkshire Museum amid controversy; it will remain on view at the NRM through 2020, 
and eventually move permanently to the Lucas Museum of Narrative Art in Los Angeles

This summer's special exhibition at the Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, Ma., operates on several levels, and it offers the viewer pleasures and challenges on all of them. Keepers of the Flame: Parrish, Wyeth, Rockwell, and the Narrative Tradition, on view through Oct. 28, was curated by University of Hartford Professor of Illustration Dennis Nolan based on a fascinating thesis he has developed that traces the three protagonists' artistic lineage back through the centuries. The show also somewhat unusually includes Nolan's own colored-pencil-and-watercolor illustrations, something I was especially interested to see when I went there.

N.C. Wyeth In the Crystal Depths
1906 oil on canvas

Keepers of the Flame is organized into four rooms - three that each focus on one of the key artists (and his significant teachers), and one that sums up the whole concept. On the surface level, we can simply enjoy the show's more than 60 paintings and drawings for what they are: Expertly crafted works by the top artists of the "Golden Age of Illustration" (approximately 100 years ago) and their immediate and more distant predecessors. This level of engagement could be enough for the casual visitor, as there are many fine examples of work by the Maxfield Parrish, N.C. Wyeth (Andrew's father), and Norman Rockwell, all of whom are extremely likable artists, and the choices from the past that have been gathered from near and far to augment their works include a number of big names (such as Jean-Leon Gerome and Thomas Eakins), and many worthy pieces by lesser-known painters (Henry Siddons Mowbray and Jean-Joseph Benjamin-Constant were both happy discoveries for me).

William-Adolphe Bouguereau The Little Knitter
1882 oil on canvas

But the show also provides a deep layer of education - actually two layers of it, the first being the education of the viewer about these artists and the tradition of illustration they worked within. Here, too, there is plenty to work with. A conversation I overheard during my visit to the show is a perfect example of this element of the experience. A couple were viewing paintings in the room devoted to Parrish (where three William-Adolphe Bouguereaus were also on display), and the woman remarked that her own art-school training was explicit in distinguishing illustration from painting based on technique: that a painter must work from life - say, with a model or on-site landscape - and must not use a grid to lay out the final composition, while an illustrator can use any trick they like to create their design.

Being me, I butted in and offered my opinion that it makes more sense to distinguish by intention - that modernism pretty much took away arguments about technique or material in art, but that it still seems that a piece is commercial if its intention is to serve some purpose other than the artist's self-expression, and that it is fine art if it serves no other clear purpose (regardless of quality). I recall that we referred to one of the Bouguereaus for reference, but couldn't determine by looking at it if it was meant to tell a story (like an illustration) or if it was more clearly a product of the artist's personal expression. The man then added thoughts related to musical composition (turned out he's a professional cellist), citing similar arguments and disagreements in that field. The point? Not that we came to a consensus in defining illustration versus art, but that the exhibition had caused us to engage heartily on the subject.

George Bridgman Keeper of the Flame 1904
charcoal, ink and oil on board

(Later, I was delighted to find that some of the label copy that accompanied another Bouguereau went into specifics about his technique, noting that he worked from the live model and did not use a grid, which supports the "fine art" interpretation based on technical criteria.)

The other element of education that pervades the show is actually its raison d'etre: An intriguing, deep dive into the influence of teachers on their students, presented as numerous juxtapositions featuring label copy that persistently identifies all the artists as teacher, student, or both (e.g. Norman Rockwell, American 1894-1978, Student of George Bridgman; Henri Lehmann, German-French 1814-1882, Student of Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres, Teacher of Francis Coates Jones). Wonderfully, many of the juxtapositions went beyond strict pairings, with combinations of teacher in the middle and students on either side, or strings of teacher to student, that student then as teacher to another student, and so on.

Nolan has added text panels to this section of the show with reverse-chronological lineages that trace back through time from our three 20th-century protagonists to their common influences in the mid-1800s academies of France (and beyond). These strings are gathered together into Nolan's charming tree drawings, and each of the rooms is pointedly titled (i.e. "The Education of Norman Rockwell"), which further underscores his thesis.

Though I found the counting backwards a little hard to follow, this element of the exhibition was so unique, so meticulously researched and documented, and so passionately expressed, as to be quite irresistible. Nolan, who also wrote nine chapters for a big catalog that accompanies the exhibition, clearly spent many years on this project, and the effort shines through. Not that we remain mired in the past here - the final room includes a whopping interactive digital screen that works like an encyclopedia, allowing viewers (even two at a time) to tap Nolan's massive genealogical-style illustration of the artists' tree of influence and thereby learn the history of and see more images by each person represented. It's technology that has a purpose, that works, and that was actually fun to use (though I was disappointed to note that most of the visitors I observed just clicked on our three main illustrators, rather than digging into their historical counterparts, somewhat undermining the digital display's real point).

Adequate but acceptably brief label copy, and incisive quotes in wall texts augment the exhibition without overwhelming it. Still, it was a lot to take in, and I found myself often using conveniently placed gallery benches to grab breaks. But the quality of the show and the art in it kept reviving my interest. If you go (and I recommend that you do), allow plenty of time. It will be rewarded.

Maxfield Parrish Solitude, 1911, Oil on board

Out of Site: Contemporary Sculpture at Chesterwood

Amelia Toelke Home Sweet Home, wood, auto paint, steel support

There's simply no excuse for me to have put off visiting Chesterwood so long - in fact, for my whole life until, at last, this summer. What a place to have overlooked!

Daniel Chester French's home and studio in the Berkshires is sublime. French was the sculptor of the Lincoln Memorial, and being the top dog in his field at the time, was able to create an enviable place to live and work in rural Stockbridge, Mass. The spoils of that success are now on gracious display, beautifully preserved and maintained, and the site has bridged the centuries to remain a vital resource for contemporary sculptors today.

Brian Kane & Michael Oatman
The 8th Wonder, inflatable

The annual summer show of site-specific work known as Contemporary Sculpture at Chesterwood is now in its 39th year, and is a fun compendium of current ideas and approaches to outdoor sculpture. This year's show was curated by Sharon Bates (recently retired from running the Albany International Airport Art & Culture Program), who has a bit of history with Chesterwood, including having been an artist in residence there in 2016. Bates has always been a witty curator, and that is abundantly in evidence here.

The show includes 14 works of art by 14 artists (with two pieces by one artist, and one piece by two) and is sited along a manicured woodland path. This path and other elements of the grounds (such as a flower garden) were among French's ongoing efforts in this "work-in-progress" of a summer studio, and it adds to the delight of the experience to think about such a classical, workmanlike artist as French in contrast to the way we make and interact with sited sculpture today.

One is immediately struck by the lighthearted tone of the show upon arrival at the entrance to Chesterwood, where a monumentally scaled, gold-tone nameplate necklace announces Homesweethome from a grassy berm. This neo-Pop statement by Amelia Toelke is among the minority of pieces in this collection that was not made specifically for the occasion, but it is so apt and so perfectly sited that I'm glad she didn't hesitate to use it again.

Douglas Culhane A Ghost House
wood, paint, hardware

The rest of the works in the selection echo Toelke's postmodern attitude. Many use non-traditional materials, engage the viewer with irony, or eschew three-dimensional form altogether to engage with the setting in ways that probably would have confounded the 19th-century sensibilities of French. But that, of course, is a good thing.

What French would surely approve, though, is the fact that this experience requires a lovely stroll through the woods (for which you may want to bring bug repellent). In a few cases, the works really aim to capitalize on this aspect of the installation. For example, Colin C. Boyd's prehistorical obsession finds form here in a display of ancient deer-like critters that almost look at home in these woods; and Debra Zlotsky's Just a Minute! directs visitors to study a tiny patch of the local flora, and then mark it with a string-tied red label (leaving me sorry for the staff who will have to untie the hundreds of tags already employed).

Derek Parker Between the forest and the trees
wood chairs, trees 

Derek Parker's piece was one favorite, not least because it interacts with the woods and the path and the viewers who travel it. His seven or eight wooden chairs impaled by standing trees at various heights are dotted through one area that connects two parts of the path, making for multiple discoveries, and delighting over and over like the rise and fall of a roller coaster. Roger Bisbing also engages the space and the walker with a tall, wide grid of welded steel that blocks off part of a field and woods, but also has openings you can pass through; it is almost intrusively bright in its colors, but so easy to see through as to be almost invisible.

Roger Bisbing Pass Through, painted steel

Other eye-catching works include Chrissy Scolaro's bright plastic towers, Amy Podmore's absurdist pseudo-bronze concoction, titled WHIPLASH, and Portia Munson's two floating banners made from her scanner photographs of deceased birds. I really liked the effect that Munson, an artist in two dimensions, was able to achieve in that outdoor space by floating two translucent images high up in the trees, in essence returning the spirits of an owl and a hawk to their rightful place, soaring above the forest floor.

Another favorite is Matt LaFleur's The Camp, which places several wooden tents into the woods, exactly like a scouts' camp, but not like one at all, as they have no entrances and are painted with bright, multicolored stripes. The piece is at once nostalgic and brand-new.

Out of Site: Contemporary Sculpture at Chesterwood continues through Oct. 9 and is open from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. daily. Events associated with the show include walking tours on Fridays at 2 p.m. through Aug. 11.

Matt LaFleur The Camp, wood and paint

Roz Chast: Cartoon Memoirs at Norman Rockwell Museum

A New Yorker cover drawing
Credit for this and all other images: Artwork by Roz Chast. ©Roz Chast. All rights reserved.

Who doesn't love Roz Chast? Her quirky take on life, as seen in countless New Yorker cartoons and covers, is the essence of contemporary American neurosis and it makes us laugh in recognition of our own foibles (or, more likely, those of our friends and relatives).

A children's book illustration

So, one recent lovely summer day we took a trip to Stockbridge to enjoy Roz Chast: Cartoon Memoirs at the Norman Rockwell Museum - and were immediately immersed in Roz's world. And I don't just mean immersed via the scads of drawings and artifacts on view. I mean immersed as in, by pure chance, we ran into Roz's cousin Nancy, from Albany, who knew one of my sisters in Jewish youth group about 50 years ago, along with Nancy's husband, and, yes, they were depicted rather accurately in a family group portrait included in the Memoirs on display.

It used to be you wouldn't be surprised to run into one of Norman Rockwell's former child models in Stockbridge - but this was a Roz Chast show in 2015, so we got cousin Nancy instead, and it was even better.

A children's book illustration

The show, by the way, is extensive, beautifully installed, and features a lot more than framed original drawings (many of which are vivid watercolors, so you could call them paintings if you wanted to, but you might get in over your head there, considering the The New Yorker still refers to all its cartoons as drawings, and The New Yorker ought to know).

As I was saying, there are lots of other things to see, including three original hooked rugs (love 'em!), seven handmade mini-books (which can be called artists books and they are wonderful!), four early black-and-white street photographs taken in Brooklyn (not bad, either), a goodly number of intricately painted pysanka eggs (like everything else here, in the signature Chast style), and the aforementioned artifacts, such as a pair of wooden horse-head bookends and other slightly creepy souvenirs of Roz's mother's collecting habits.

Roz Chast in her studio, photo by Jeremy Clowe

There's also a chatty video that was made by NRM Media Manager Jeremy Clowe, which shows Chast in her studio and is in constant cycle on a big TV, with plenty of chairs nearby. I got shooshed more than once by folks watching the video while I talked with Nancy, so I guess they thought it was pretty good. The room with the video features a bunch of framed black-and-white cartoons deployed upon violet walls, which set them off quite nicely. As with just about everything else on view, they are expertly drawn, and hilarious.

An original page for the memoir

The show is built around 120 drawings from Chast's award-winning memoir Can't We Talk About Something More Pleasant?, which are displayed on key-lime green walls. I mention the wall color because it sets off Chast's watercolors so well - and I must point out that her highly refined color sense is much better seen by looking at originals than in reproduction. This underlines the appropriateness of presenting Chast's work in a museum setting - yes, she's an illustrator and a cartoonist and she tells stories and she's funny, but she's also clearly an artist whose work can be aesthetically very beautiful.

A New Yorker cover drawing

I had previously read (really, devoured) the memoir in book form, so I devoted more of my time in the museum to admiring other work - the many New Yorker covers (including trial sketches), as well as a lot of other pictures and picture stories that had been published elsewhere. Just like at a good movie, I laughed, I cried, I got hungry. We left satisfied, and the drive home was lovely, though we did get a little lost.

You will love this show. If you go, plan to spend a lot of time, and definitely bring your reading glasses. Roz Chast: Cartoon Memoirs runs through Oct. 26.

Summer Shows to See

Van Gogh and Nature will be at The Clark through Sept. 13

Just like that, July 4th is over and it feels like summer will be soon be a distant memory, too. A bunch of museum exhibitions ought to be part of those memories, if you can organize it, with Van Gogh and Nature at the Sterling and Francine Clark Art Institute topping the list.

Roz Chast's style is unique

Other shows not to be missed include:
Roz Chast: Cartoon Memoirs at the Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, Mass., through Oct. 26. The sardonic and self-deprecating New Yorker cartoonist is about as far from the Saturday Evening Post as you can get - which is why I can't wait to see this show in Rockwell's house.

Near Stockbridge is Boston Sculptors Gallery at Chesterwood 2015, featuring 24 Boston-area sculptors' responses to the work, estate, and gardens of Lincoln Memorial sculptor Daniel Chester French, through Oct. 12.

A pop-up book by Andy Warhol at WCMA

The Late Drawings of Andy Warhol at The Hyde Collection through Sept. 27 and Warhol by the Book at the Williams College Museum of Art through Aug. 16. Warhol lovers can get their fill this summer. WCMA, always an under-the-radar favorite of mine, also offers a spate of other cool shows, including a spotlight on their stellar collection of works by Maurice and Charles Prendergast, a dive into history titled Imagining the Trojan War, and a featured exhibition of James McNeil Whistler.

Notice: A Flock of Signs by Kim Beck at Art Omi

The Fields Sculpture Park at Art Omi, which features about 80 long-term sculptural installations along a winding nature path, adds new works every year; I am long overdue for a revisit, and recommend it for all ages who have yet to go.

A Burchfield watercolor
that inspired his wallpaper design

Also on my to-do list are a show about Charles Burchfield's wallpaper designs at the Arkell Museum in Canajoharie; Lit at the Albany County Airport Gallery; and the 2015 edition of Artists of the Mohawk-Hudson Region, set to open this week at the University at Albany Art Museum.

If you feel a bit overwhelmed with all these options, you are not alone - I haven't gotten to any of these shows either. But today, we are heading out to Cooperstown for yet one more must-see: Maxfield Parrish: The Art of Light and Illusion at the Fenimore Art Museum, on view through Sept. 7. Watch this space for a review of that exhibition to come soon. And be sure to enjoy your summer, however you spend it, because it surely will not last!

Maxfield Parrish - What better art for a summer's day?

Norman Rockwell: Behind the Camera

Growing up in the 1960s, I loved Norman Rockwell’s art. It was folksy, funny, and almost photographic in its realism – things kids can appreciate. Later, I came to value Rockwell as much for his social and political courage as for his abilities with paint. Now, I have a new reason to admire this much-loved and much-scorned American artist – for the astonishing directorial work that backs up each of his illustrations.

It is probably no accident that the Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, Mass., has mounted the exhibition Norman Rockwell: Behind the Camera at this point in the history of art. Another Berkshire-county artist, Gregory Crewdson, is the person most responsible (well, after Cindy Sherman) for having established directorial photography as the most significant art movement of the past 20 years.

Yes, you read that exactly right: I am comparing Norman Rockwell to Gregory Crewdson – unironically. To continue the comparison, think of them as two sides of the same coin. On one side, there’s a patriotic, corny optimist, a shamelessly commercial image maker whose work always brought in a good buck by sending the right, cloyingly positive messages about America. On the other, there’s a Hollywood-tinged postmodernist, biliously cynical, whose work has also brought in big money because of its jaundiced and dark messages about the same America a few decades later.

The exhibition shows in well-notated detail and perfectly mounted imagery how Rockwell performed his craft. No, not the craft of painting (which I will always contend he did exceedingly well) – the directorial craft of planning, casting and organizing, and then photographing, piece by piece, the visually complex (if conceptually simplistic) dramas that typify his work. Rockwell himself did not release the shutter – that work went to various professionals over the years – and neither, by the way, does Crewdson, though he is known as a photographer. This is a director’s art in both cases, with the result being a still image rather than a movie.

For fans of Rockwell, the exhibition is an endless parade of favorites, now made new by the revelation of the process behind them. You would have to be the angriest curmudgeon not to take pleasure in seeing, for example, how the hundreds of black-and-white photos snapped for “A Day in the Life of a Little Girl” (see top of post) were created and then transformed into the full-color illustration of the same name.

For locals, there is no doubt the joy of recognizing faces from the past, as Rockwell used his neighbors for these pictures, in part so that he could bring “an unmistakable genuineness” to the faces in his scenarios. Still, in examining the side-by-side displays of source photos and finished paintings, one can see how much he exaggerated features for increased comic effect, almost to the point of caricature, while still somehow retaining that patina of realism.

Part of the fun is seeing the artist himself performing for the camera, both as a subject (very often recognizable in the crowds he loved to paint) and as an auteur encouraging his models. It’s clear his enthusiasm never waned, and his expressive skills were right up there with the best of his subjects. Many tricks and props are also visible, such as hands or wires holding up a pigtail to simulate speed, or books set under toes and heels to represent a proper gait.

Clearly, Rockwell’s directorial method was both well honed and essential to the making of his art. That it was also a precursor to the most heralded and high-priced artists of our present time is an idea so preposterous and yet so deliciously subversive as to be irresistible. Sherman, Crewdson et al: You owe this guy some respect.

Norman Rockwell: Behind the Camera opened last fall and continues through May 31. The museum is open every day, and it’s a pleasant 45-minute drive from downtown Albany to a beautiful setting in the Berkshires. Coming up next at the Norman Rockwell Museum will be an exhibition of work by the New Yorker cartoonist William Steig, which opens on June 12.

Tattoo Artist Cover for The Saturday Evening Post by Norman Rockwell © 1944 SEPS: Licensed by Curtis Publishing, Indianapolis, IN.

Other credits for the images used in this post: Photographs for A Day in the Life of a Little Girl, 1948 Reference Photography, Norman Rockwell Archives, Norman Rockwell Museum, Stockbridge, Massachusetts. Norman Rockwell Estate Licensing Company, Niles, IL.

Photographs for Soda Jerk, 1953 Reference Photography, Norman Rockwell Archives, Norman Rockwell Museum, Stockbridge, Massachusetts. Norman Rockwell Estate Licensing Company, Niles, IL. Soda Jerk cover for The Saturday Evening Post by Norman Rockwell © 1953 SEPS: Licensed by Curtis Publishing, Indianapolis, IN.

Norman Rockwell Posing for Pan Am Was My Magic Carpet Around the World, 1955 Reference Photography, Norman Rockwell Archives, Norman Rockwell Museum, Stockbridge, Massachusetts. Norman Rockwell Estate Licensing Company, Niles, IL.

All images courtesy of Norman Rockwell Museum