J. FRANCIS MURPHY By ELIOT CLARK BY Exurot Crane —— a « . aon. gi i - yee iva, 0S) a oe : We 7 > be a ye J. FRANCIS MURPHY BY Evrot Clark New Yorx PRIVATELY PRINTED MCMXXVI * py... ra ae. Pen r = % cA PD ah ‘ ie. hs ia | - » + * F * aUM 2am : > ns ; 78 one, oF, wn - oo 7 eo ae oe Sg : ; ; ni 4 s ; ' « ‘ * 4 o. 5 5 ; ’ a THE AMERICAN ARTISTS SERIES George Inness. By Elliott Daingerfield. (Out of print.) Fifty Paintings by George Inness. Homer Martin. By Frank Jewett Mather, Jr. Fifty-eight Paintings by Homer Martin. Alexander Wyant. By Eliot Clark. Sixty Paintings by Alexander Wyant. Ralph Albert Blakelock. By Elliott Daingerfield. Winslow Homer. By Kenyon Cox. Albert Pinkham Ryder. By Frederic Fairchild Sherman. John Twachtman. By Eliot Clark. J. Francis Murphy. By Eliot Clark. IN PREPARATION J. Alden Weir. By Frederic Fairchild Sherman. Theodore Robinson. By Eliot Clark. Abbott H. Thayer. George Fuller. ILLUSTRATIONS Portrait of J. Francis Murphy by Irving S. Wiles The River Farm ; Tints of aVanished Past . The Path to the Village October Neglected Lands Late September Rain ee Afternoon in October Grove and Field Russet Season Hillside Farm Frontispiece Page 12 16 20 28 32 38 6 460 50 52 56 50 -_ saresncers ‘y “ * ~~ me ’ 4 , . 2vorrAaTeDLaL . « se), +o a \ oe J. FRANCIS MURPHY . 3 at AD. LAme 3 c a¢, ke J. FRANCIS MURPHY PART ONE @AHIE name of J. Francis Murphy has 44| something of a formal and impersonal SAN flair. Were we to say John Murphy, SA Sacel\s the association with the artist would No) & [yy of * Rat howe WY at once disappear. One hardly knew his first name to be John. It was never used. Tocall him Francis would not have been fitting. Thereis something in the sound of Francis that did not become the man. To his friends he was simply Mur- hy; to his intimates, including his wife, he was Murph. The abbreviation of a name imparts a pecul: iarly human touch and the name Murph wasalways pronounced with affection. There was only one Murph. This denotes a personality and John Francis Murphy was a unique personality. Hecombineda simple, unaffected, easy naturewith a shrewd and calculated comprehension. He was not intellectual. He ran around the corner from what might be termed culture. The Sunday news: paper pleased him better. He affected a real dislike for music, but he secretly loved simple melody. He disliked anything on show. Passive, somewhat lez thargic, indolent, almostlazy, Murphy was not, how: ever, truly naive. Informal, blunt and outspoken, his artistic expression was, nevertheless, highly sophisti- 9 cated. He was fond of calling his associates by their first name; his greeting was always intimate and hearty, but his conversation was noteither spirited or comprehensive. In expressive language he had an un- common vocabulary not found in the dictionary and when animated a keen Irish wit. Occasionally he would make a profound remark. In a discussion on Albert Ryder, a Boston painter, proud of a meticu- lous technic, disparagingly remarked that Ryder was avery poorpainter. ‘*Yes,”said Murphy, ‘avery poor painter, but agreat artist.” It was the unspoken word that counted always from Murphy. One knew him not so much from what he said as what he felt. He could pronounce ones name and radiate more than a full blown greeting. He was hearty and friendly but never verbose. Silence didn’t trouble him. He spoke directly and indirectly from the heart. He disliked a superior feeling. In fact he cherished the feeling of being one of the boys and never lost that feeling. On several occasions he was-asked to be the guest of honor at important functions but declined every such distinction. Iam not aware that he ever made a for- mal address or any form of ‘speech. Murphy disliked anything that made him selfcon- scious. He didn’t care for polished manners and dis- ensed entirely with form. A true romantic in inner sensibility, he never affected the manner or bearing of one in any way different from another. His dress was perfectly simple, but not in any studied sense. The nearest thing at hand that wascomfortable would IO do. He had no liking for the picturesque or bohemian attire that strikes a pose, any more than for the stiff and awkward garb of formal dress. In later life he wore evening clothes on such occasions when one would be conspicuous otherwise, and in the starched shirt he came to acquire a perfectly normal comz- posure. Murphy’s physiognomy was distinctive, not for any picturesque or striking peculiarity but rather be- cause his head wasparticularly wellformed. The bald forehead revealeda splendidly clean-cut, well-round- ed head, denoting judgment and balance. Impression- ably he was highly sensitive, and his observations searching and profound. But he did not voice his im- pressions. A gesture would doit easier. He disliked to sitin judgment, but he was a superior judge. He measured accurately the difference between the gen- uine and the affected, the sincere creation and the su- perficial stunt. The creative artist is at once passive and active, receptive and constructive. The highly cultivated intellect often precludes the sensitive and impression- able medium which is so necessary to artistic expres: sion. But the mindofthe artist is concernedwith other judgments than those of the logical world, and he weighs and measures impressionable forms in a manz ner incompatible with more truly cerebral judgments. It was in this artistic measure that Murphy’s judg- ment was as keen and sensitive as the most astute logician in the realm of mind. il It is difficult to associate this blunt, simple and rather course nature with the delicate and highly sen- sitive artist. Yetnoartist was more truly ofone piece than Murphy and his work bears final testimony of the man, the true signature of the personality. Apart from his art Murphy’s life was singularly devoid of any great interests—no quest of adventure, no vexatious aspirations, no mundane temptations, in terrupted his habitual ways; no unexpected changes broke the uniformity of his days. For nearly forty years of his life he spent the greater part of the year at Arkville, his summer home in the Catskill Mounz- tains, but in his work we have hardly a suggestion of hisenvironment. Even hisspirit seems never to have been tempted to depart from the serenity of its accus- tomed mood. Born at Oswego, New York, April 11, 1853, Murphy’s boyhood days were passed during the agi- tation and strife of the civil war, and he therefore ar- rived at maturity in the happier days of reconstruc: tion. From one who was associated with a Chicago concern where Murphy was employed as a sign painter about 1870 we learn that although reasonably efhcient he was noticably lazy and in consequence was discharged. Murphy was evidently notonegiven to “punching a clock” and his indolence was due to that form of ruminating which is concerned with other things than sign boards. Saved from defacing the face of nature, and adding to that particularly American form of crying aloud on the landscape, the IZ RIVER FARM nigh, 12 inches wide. “J. Francis Murphy ’84.” T. Shepherd, New York. ‘edhied dseendacaasidt el eand high sitive artist. Yetacanisc an anale — aire ial true signature of the pe co art ha fay Se quest of ac bie hehiest wiyhaee ec’ broke the uniformity of his reer 2 years of his life he spent the g er part at Arkville, his summer home ith tains, but in his work we have hi: his environment. Even his ene pet a ntihie rs s tion. From one who was ciel Av concern where Murphy was em a painter about 1870 we learn that althe ug efhcient he was noticably lazy sod was discharged. Murphy was eviden to “punching a clock” and his an that form of ruminating which i is. other things than sign boards. | the face of nature, and adding 4 to American form of crying aloud ont I2 ret a 7 st, ‘ a oA @ ey ae + 2 a pf wh Ne vay future painter was dreaming of other ways of ‘sling: ing paint” rather than furthering that unsightly and vulgar competition which wages war with words. He was also saved from the more artificial and indirect way of studying art in the schools where one follows the standardized method of working in charcoal from the antique and life, slaving over highly finished draw: ings and perhaps thinking inwardly of fields and sky. Although seemingly self taught, Murphy was in rez ality learning the direct use of the brush and acquiring a knowledge of the fundamental principles of apply- ing paint in an enduring manner. At the same time he was forming a direct human contact withlife, learn: _ ing at an early age that independence which comes from self support and associating with workers rather than students. In this early training we thus see the beginning of Murphy’s later characteristics: his in- sistence upon the material nature of paint; his human sympathy and his independence. After the great fire of 1871 Chicago was hardly a favorable place for artistic encouragement and it was fortunate that Murphy moved to New York in 1875. The active section of the city at that time scarcely ex- tended above Forty-Second Street and the comparaz tively few studios centered about the old Tenth Street studio building. Monticelli’s cellar restaurant on Third Avenue was the favorite rendevous of bohe- mia where the elect assembled about a long table pre- sided over by the esteemed but somewhat garrulous William Page, president of the National Academy. 13 There one revived something of the artistic flavor of Italy and painters returning from Rome found asym- pathetic atmosphere. Murphy rented a studio in Ninth Street next Grace Church. The lower part of the building was occupied by the Vienna Bakery, founded by Fleishman after his success at the Phila- delphia centennial of 1876. In the recessed space in front was an open air cafe, while the floors above were converted intostudios. Will Low wasthere beforego- ing abroad in 1873 and F. S. Church occupied one of the studios at the time of Murphy’s arrival. There was alsoa Mrs. Manley, sculptress, and other artists, few ofwhomwerewellknown. William Henry Shel: ton, who came to New York in 1871, writes of Mur- phy’s studio: ‘As Iremember he always had displayed on his easel a pencil sketch of a tree—a slender stem with a few limbs and leaves drawn with great preci- sion—a wonderful study that seems to have served for the foregroundtreeinsomany of hispictures. I thinkit was the only sort of study he ever made from nature.” The pencil studies shown at the memorial exhibition held at the Salmagundi Club give an account of his whereabouts and indicate his manner of working. He had discovered an interesting country in New Jersey, not far from Orange, wherehe spentsome time before coming to New York and where during the summer months he had a number of young lady pupils, one of whom later became his wife. It is the memory of this time that haunts his finest pictures, though the exam- ples of that date arerather tight in handling and show 14 an insistent following of his pencil memoranda of fore- ground details and carefully delineated trees. Murphy was made a member of the Salmagundi Club October 4, 1878. A landscape in black and white presented to the Club at that date shows a sur- prising maturity for one but twenty-five years of age. The Club, then in its infancy, was formed not merely as a social meeting place but as a studio where the members might come for mutual help and criticism. The membership was composed of young artists just starting upon their career, combined with several am- ateurs and laymen either actively or sympathetically interested in art. So began an association which formedthemost constantbackgroundof Murphy’slife. Never a club man in the formal sense, Murphy was always at home at the Salmagundi, and for nearly fifty years was a familiar and congenial figure at the table board. In its functional or constructive life he played little part, though he was vice president during the year 1888, but he was a silent force in creating that friendly fellowship which is the greatest charm of Salmagundi. In 1898 he painted one of the panels forming the decoration of the hall in Twelfth Street, and now one of the treasured pictures of the new club house, across the hall from which is the well polished arm palette in silent memory. Notwithstanding his artistic recognition, the early years in New York were acontinual struggle for livelihood. His pictures sold for very small prices, but fortunately rent and liv- ing were comparatively low and Murphy was con- 1 tent with the simplest necessities. So he main- tained an independence which allowed him to carry on his work according to his heart’s desire. In 1876 he exhibited his first picture at the National Academy and thereafter became an annual contributor, being made an associate in 1885 and an academician two years later. At the age of thirty-five Murphy had arrived at the culmination of the first period of his work and like- wise the most constructive epoch of his career. His studio at Arkville was built in 1887, long before the Catskill Mountains were familiar as asummer resort. The country was known by artists for its natural beauty and picturesque surroundings. Cole first worked in Catskill in 1825 and discovered there that ‘‘wild and uncontaminated nature” which was dear to the poetic fancy of our Hudson River School; and Durand, F. E. Church, Kensett and others found maz terial for their picturesof mountain fastness and woodz land stream. It was the echo of the romanticism of Scott, the association of freedom with remote and un- cultivated places and the religious feeling inspired by nature as the uncorrupted expression of the Creator. Wyant came to Arkville in 1889 and from time to time other well-known painters formed a sympa- thetic group. Murphy found it a happy retreat to while away the summer days unhindered. It was not so suggestive for his pictures as for its unsophisticated environment. He was fond of backwoods ways, the easy life, the freedom from hurry and of indulging in 16 tent with the sinypledt nécessities. So. "tained an independence which allowed h on his work seinailias to his peres d — . he exhibited his fiewr pretare atthe National and thereafter became an anmual_contribub made an associate ix rs and an ¢ ad nic years later. oh At the age of oo Mucphy the culmination of the first period of kan wise the most constructive his: reer studio at Arkville was built in bees ong we be! Catskill Mountains were — a ne _ The country was on shes beauty and afer be worked in 2 SASH “wild an ipl 2 me Ady iat to the poetic Pao. ofieet idsor Durand, F.E. Church, Kénsts and 0 terial for their picturesof'm | land stream. Te was the echo of d culebonted plades and the sins _ t nature as the uncorrupted expressiams Wyant came to Arkville im 38 time other well-known pain ce s f ~ thetic group. Murphy four . ite while away the summer daysut so suggestive for his Saieare environment. He ways fond easy Ete; tive lect Ghent : ue re aoa OuNntainr Ct ae +2 his own manner of leisurely contemplation. Henever painted out-of-doors, and his pencil studies belong mostly to an earlier date. There is little suggestion of the country in his pictures. Murphy was not tempt- ed by the passing effects of nature, or lured into new ventures by suggestive material. Not gifted with a great imagination his mind was content to live within its own limited sphere. Arkville brought to Murphy the peaceful tranquility of nature, a retreat where he could vegetate during the warm season and prepare the grounds of canvases for work in the more invigor- ating days of autumn. Then his eye was alert and searching, and although he made no records of partic- ular places he was constantly observing the simple effects of earth and sky, measuring value relations and color harmony. Murphy had an intuitive approach to nature. He was not learned or scientifically schooled but he cre-z ated a natural affinity between himself and the ani- mated world. He established communication with the neighboring animals of the field. Squirrels were easily tamed and would come to him unafraid; a large trout in a near by stream knew his presence and would come out from hiding when the approach of another would immediately frighten him away. Likewise he was sensitive to the awakening of vege- tation and awaited with eagerness the first signs of new life in spring. He lived largely in this quiet but responsive world and drew from it much of the con- tentedness and serenity that found its ultimate expres: T/ sion in his pictures. He knew the swampy places where vegetation springs lush and luxuriant and waited for the first thrilling note of the tree toad or frog. Transcending the limitations of botanicalknowl- edge he drew from each flower of the field or neglected weed the true character of its kind and knew it in its own environment more intimately than from the rev- elations of the laboratory. In the winter at his studio in the Chelseahis finished painting was accomplished. There the inner ex: perience and subjective impression was finally and decisively rendered. The artistic judgment was brought to a focus. There was no puttering. If his pictures portray the subtle and evanescent effects of nature, the final painting was executed with the ut- most precision, the nervous and rapid touch of a high- ly sensitive mind. If his nature was passive and in- active, there is no hesitancy in his painting. It is not only skilled and dextrous but responds perfectly to the introspective mood that haunted his innermost bez ing. Murphy relied upon a certain texture, produced by the gradual scraping of hard pigment, which necessi- tated the ground being prepared many months before the final painting. It came, in a sense, to be a personal mannerism. Started with a vigorous and free brush- work, the paint lost something of its initial vigor but gained in that atmospheric and tonal quality so char- acteristic of Murphy’s art. We observe, therefore, that the structure of ground, although naturalistic in 18 tone is often stereotypedin treatment. Murphy never allowed his initial attack to show, but it forms that heavy underpainting which gives the earth its struc- tural solidity and weight. His pictures were in conse- quence started well in advance without a definite or finalidea, andthe Murphy composition brushed with freedom and graceover the hard pigment. This meth- od, so effective in its tonal quality, came to impose a very definite limitation upon his creative conception. It was, however, peculiarly appropriate to the temz- perament of Murphy. Not necessitating an active mentality or constructive imagination it allowed him the freedom from more laborious and often discourz aging creation and at the same time expressed the pez culiarly haunting mood of his subjective nature. Suggestive, free and seemingly impromptu asis the touch of Murphy, there is nothing in the man or his work truly slovenly, accidental or at hazard. Ob= serve his writing: exact and precise; hisearly signature clear and beautifully written; his later printed signa- ture painted when the picture had long been dry, the final touch of his approval, definitely and deliberately signed. Look at his palette: polished like a piece of lac- quer, thecolors standing out in calculated relation and in perfect harmony with the polished surface. Like: wise his studio: not scattered with unnecessary paraz phernalia or unfinished pictures; no sign of the inter- rupted idea or wasted effort; not showy, affected or consciously artistic, but reflecting the perfect poise and naturalness of the man. er, Of an equable and even temperament, combined with an easy and intimate manner, Murphy had many friends. Accepting no executive positions he had few enemies. In the days of trial and hardship he was not bitter or pessimistic; in the days of success and prosperity he was not superior. Always encour- aging to younger men, seemingly never jealous, he was himself modest and retiring. Murphy engaged i in few social activities. He was often present on juries of selection or award but acz- cepted no executive responsibilities. He was made a member of the Lotos Club and the Century, but was not an habitue of either. A few constant andold time friends came regularly to the Chelsea. He did not fol: low either the festive or intellectual activities of the city. The country was his natural background and as early as the weather would permit he was off to his rural haunts. When city interests did not require his presence he extended his stay at Arkville until early winter. Murphy retained much of his boyhood interest in country ways and this brought to his life the little pleasures of every day existence: the paper, the weather, current topics, or a visit from a passing friend. So time passed and years multiplied, the early call of his spirit was answered and his destiny ful: filled. Whittle thy stick away, oh painter of fields for- lorn: pass the time of day with village gossip or truant schoolboy fishing. Watts in England, governed by an unconquerable conscience, was up before light 20 and prosperity he was nots aging to younger men, seem was himself modest and Murphy engaged i it: few se often present on juries whee cepted no executive resp —— 4s ors | member of the Lotos Club a ce re not an habitue of either. At : friends came os paren low either th cy. Thacyties a shia as early. ith e weatha his rural haunes. W na his presence he cd ay early winter. Murphys 1EReS interest in country ways ad this be the little pleasures.of bility. The earliest examples we find today in perfect condition. The picture is not painted as a decorative hanging for a room or as an effective arrangement for an exhibition wall. It is essentially an easel picture to be seen and valued foritself. The artist hasasplen- did sense of scale and aérial perspective and within the limited dimensions of a book cover conveys the illusion of infinite expanse. The pencil comes in early use—a pencil with a sharp point—not to record effects but facts: fore- ground studies, field flowers, weed entanglements, the ornaments of the earth: tree silhouettes, old houses, barns and other picturesque data. Valuable material that later gives the contour significance and the ground structure. Happily, from the earliest efforts Murphy dated his work. His sketch-book was much in use during the seventies, particularly after his ar- rival in New Yorkin 1875, when we follow him dur- ing the summer months to the neighboring country of New Jersey. Strange that for one whose viewpoint was later to bein the distance, that in the early studies the interest isin the foreground. But we must remember that fol: lowing the method of the period the artist did not paint his pictures directly from nature but made in- numerable pencil studies of various details which were later brought together in the service of a single conception. The drawings show a decided precision, accuracy, and patience; a definite self-control and a highly concentrated vision. The pencil is used with 24 an aesthetic understanding of its technical limitations; the tone is not over emphasized and the outline is clear and constructive. In the formative period we observe three construc- tive manifestations moulding the work of the future painter. The direct study of nature, recorded in the drawings and impressed upon the perception; the study of pictures and the traditional manner of com- posing landscape; and the subjective reflection. The first informs the painter and brings together material for subject matter; the second gives form and a method of arrangement; the third imparts the emotional con- tent and isthe key to the personality of the painter. We recall many small early pictures which one would not associate with Murphy’s later work, pice tures complete and pleasing but in which one sees little premonition of the personal mood. Likewise we recall examples painted directly from nature in which the artist shows definite objective realization, rendered with spontaneity and precision. But it is only the occasional picture echoing his inner spirit that reveals the true sentiment of the painter and be- comes asymbolof all thatis to follow. Murphy is al- ways truly expressive when he reflects himself, when he follows his intuitive sense; but when he deliberate- ly endeavors to make a pleasing picture he becomes perfunctory. There is a landscapein monotone paint- edin 1878 now hanging in the Salmagundi Club in which the potential quality of Murphy’s personality is revealed. A landscape in which subject matter is = entirely secondary, wherein mass is used for its aes: thetic significance rather than graphic form and the tone sequence solely for unity of effect; a subject not pleasing for its accompanying associations of marsh and mist and yet embodying a truly poetical concep- tion. It indicates how all his later work evolves from the early sentiment and how it originates in tonal unity, simplification of form and expressive massing. A year later Murphy exhibited at the Salmagundi a landscape in the mood of Inness, an approaching storm under which was a poetical quotation sugges- tive of the theme. The chiaroscurois arranged with calculated effect: a distant mass of treesin deep shad- ow with picturesque silhouette, the sun striking the fields with emphatic contrast, the sky ominous and compelling, yet with a splendid reserve and technical control throughout. The darks have been repeatedly glazed to achieve the utmost depth without heaviness of effect. A complete and promising achievement, but one which we havenotseen repeated. Thus early the painter, attaining the dramatic, realizes, neverthe- less, that his true nature liesin the suggestive and sub- dued rather than the forceful and emphatic. Dispite the needs of livelihood he strikes repeatedly nearer and nearerto himself, working more and more within the restricted limitations of his nature and finding his true expression therein. The Last Glow, dated 1882, ismore truly a picture of foreground details and is particularly interesting as illustrating the structural understanding of forms 26 which at a later time were vaguely suggested. It also indicates Murphy’s real love of the homely orna- ments of the earth and his interest in nature’s mystic tracery. This is observed also in The Path to the Village in the Evans’ collection at the National Gal: lery. The picture plane begins in the immediate fore- groundand the land recedesinuninterrupted sequence to the village and the hills beyond. A group of pictur: esque trees forms the principal contrast of the middle ~ ground. As early as 1882 the picture is unmistak- ably in the Murphy manner, yet in comparing it to the later examples we can see how the painter evolved. Although perfectly simple in composition in The Path to the Village the interest is diverted. We are con- cerned with foreground details as well as the distant villageandthe eyeisheld at the sametime by the elabo- rated lineofthetrees. Moreoverthescaleof the objects in the foreground compel one to look down to them rather than over them, andthe rather even division of earth and sky dissipates the attention. From a pure- ly graphic or illustrative view the picture is more realistic than the later manner, but from the stand: point of visual impression and emotional reaction it has not at all the same commanding realizationor com- prehension. We see therefore that Murphy came to eliminate the more patent and popular facts of nature, to sacrifice the objective details, so that he might mag- nify and heighten a single impression, and intensify a oneness of vision. In the Path tothe Village the spec: tator is a detached observer, in the later pictures the af spectator becomes a part of the picture. We must ob: serve also that in each change in Murphy’s achieve- ment that he sacrifices the most popular and objective interests and enhances the personal and subjective mood. _ In 188s Murphy wasawarded the Second Hallgar- ten Prize for his picture, called rather curiously, Tints of a Vanished Past. In subject itis most human- ly interesting, in color most ingratiating, and an ex: tremely lovely picture. It marks as it were a culmi- nation of the early period. Deservedly winning a welcome award it might quite naturally have been repeated, but we cannotremember a definite repeti- tion of this theme and the most popular attributes of it are the very one which he later omitted. Murphy grew from his best efforts. He knew when he had carried an idea to its uttermost conclusion and he never repeated the composition of his inspired themes although he so frequently repeated the ‘characteristic example.” | It would be entirely arbitrary to fix any exact dates to define the three periods which we have designated as marking the development of Murphy’s art. One merges gradually into theother, although in the early period we have remarked certain examples quite characteristic of the final period, as in the middle period we naturally find canvases which repeat the earlier effort as well as those which fortell the future. Beginning the study of art at an early age the first period may be said to terminate about 1885 and the 28 ack! VA spacraiebebeanne’ nek te pire pai that in cok change in Murphy's a ment thar he sacrifices the most populardad interests and enhances the peescosl's mood. In 1885.M hy was awsntid the: ten Prize for icture, 7 Tints of a Vanished Past. ae ly interesting, in color most 4 tremely lovely picture. Seta ar nation of the early period, D welcome award it might quite m repeated, but we cannot remember tion of this theme arertone sprost op it are the VBRY, Gh be lat gre wn bbeatedg carried?aG ishgnibeaW 5 Mee never repeated aitaat os “si - n of. although hesofrequen yee example.” : - Jéwould be ciicinsllss prea _ to define the three periods which as marking the ‘cna tM merges gradually into the other, a period we have remarked 1 characteristic of the final p period we naturally find cz earlier effort as a se Beginning the study _ art period may be said tot eee (3) “ Zz middle period to continue until 1900. It is apparent, however, that at each period of Murphy’s art there are canvases which completely embody the charac: teristic and unique expression of that particular time. In the second period, therefore, we observe the definite influence of the tonal school, certain examz- ples reflecting the direct contact with French land- scape and with Corotin particular, while the associa- tion with Wyantisalsoapparent. The point of view is more intimate, the form is treated for significant mass and picturesque contour, the foreground is not overburdened with irrelevant detail, the composition is arranged for organized relation of form rather than purely descriptive landscape. Thelight is heightened at the point of focal concentration and the chiaros- curois consciously gradated tobring together the prin- cipal masses and create a unity of effect. Thesky forms a functional relation to the dominant masses in the picture. The evening hour is the favorite mo- tive of this period, the golden light making a veiled background against which tree forms are arranged with telling silhouette. The pictorial conceptionhas a corresponding devel- opmentin the technical manner of presenting it. Thus we note the introduction of pigment textures to simz plify and suggest form and to render the fundamental elements rather than surface ornamentation, to give the solidity and heaviness of earth, the moving and ephemeral quality of sky, the soft fullness of foliage, or the delicate veil of sere woods. The palette knife “5 takes the place of the brush and the under painting is carefully prepared before the final painting is attempt- ed. Over this surface thin glazes of transparent color give depth and richness to the darker hues and the half tones are rendered with asemi-opaquescumble. Thus the Murphy method evolves gradually from the thin- ly painted surface to heavy impasto, from the carez fully rendered subject to the suggested and impro- vised form. The picture in the Corcoran Gallery at Washing- ton, October, is dated 1886-093 and is the most im- ortant in size as well as the most representative example of the period of which we are speaking. In its process we see much of the technical evolution of Murphy’s art, though the finished surface gives little indication of the effort underneath. Pigment quality and texture, the glaze and scumble and dextrous final touch are all utilized in the calculated building up of the picture. We may even add that we can observe the later mannerism in the making. Here we find that virile solidity of structure, the understanding dif: ferentiation of essentials, combined with the delicate nuance, the gradated sequence and the evanescent hue which are the predominant attributes of Mur- phy’s expression. And here too we remark the per: sistent and continued effort to perfect the picture be- fore the signature of release. Reminiscent in comz position and tone of both Inness and Wyant it has, nevertheless, the personal touch and the manifesta- tion of sincere and deep feeling. The artist is growing 30 firmly and steadily within himself. The Autumnal of 1894 is painted in the same mood and likewise shows the persistent endeavor toward perfection. It is apparently the same group of trees seen from a greater distance. Somewhat over conscious and studied in design, the composi- tion has, nevertheless, a very noble poise and august balance. One does not find here the casual impro- visation or the hurried touch, but rather the loving care of varied line, the deeply felt gradation and in- dwelling depth of tone. Moreapparently inthe Barbizonmannerareseveral small oblong canvases, highly sophisticated in treat- ment and facile in rendering. The River Farm, a diminutive canvas in the proportion of one by two, is obviously a French landscape in which the low lying Normandy farm makes a decided center of interest. More fluid in the direct use of the brush than the later manner, the smaller pictures of this period have a de: cided painter-like quality. Unschooled in the more academicmanner of theolder painters, theyoung Mur- phy found the new method entirely sympathetic to his hand and at the age of thirty painted like a French master. But it must be remembered, incidently, that at the time of which we are speaking the Barbizon pictures were just being introduced in our country and were not at all in the approved and popular style of our Hudson River School. So Murphy starts his career as a radical. Murphy’s technical manner and his pictorial con- 31 ception never fitted him for filling large surfaces or ex: ecuting monumental paintings. But the eighties and nineties was the time of little pictures. The private home was used asa personal art gallery. The walls of which were hung with small and over-framed pic- tures, generally protected by shadow boxes. The whole interior was heavy and over burdened in effect. The old time parlor was in its glory. The demand therefore was for small pictures made important by heavy and expensive frames. Content with a most simple life and environment Murphy never sacrificed his artistic integrity, but it was happy indeed that he could make his living by producing these little pictures of his fancy. There is a small picture called Late September. I remember it in the collection of Robert Handley. It is one of the masterpieces of American landscape painting and one in which Murphy reveals most truly the signature of his soul. A most felicitous com- position it is compellingly inevitable and never to be repeated. It has that wistful melancholy combined with easy contentment, the idealistic grace springing naturally from the most homely environment. Wedo not feel anything of the factitious make up or the sen- timental claptrap of picture making. The expression completely transcends the limitations of the canvas and one does not think in terms of size. Although all of Murphy’s pictures are marked by a captivating patina and characteristic appeal of tone, comparative- lyfewreflect the true inspirationof hiscreative genius. 32 -_* eH 9 Me CTED LANDS a -* es . , ¢ . ; fe , ae Ve) Ts ae oe ee eee ee re Ce, ow ae eS ee ee e ception never feted beans door febhting ecuting monumental 4 ngs. i ut the nineties was che tame of Sede sie c wes. Thi home was used as 2 personal at) ler y which were hang with reer ars 23 tures, generally protected by 8 whole interior was heavy andover The ld ume pare watt gh therefore was for small pictures m heavy and expensive frames. G simple life and environment Mus his artistic integricy, but it wash could make his er by — of his fancy. aK sas ae -. There is e 2 ag ree “3 , remembes.4f SORES is one of B yrange painting and one in which truly the signature of his soul. / position it is compellingly in repeated. It has that wel with easy contentment, the idealis naturally from the mosthomely on not feel anything of the fac 3 timental claptrap of piceure m completely be the limita and one does not think in terms o of Murphy’ Ss pictures are 1 wee and charearaennis —- o y few reflect the ruein : _ Some of the finest smaller examples of Murphy’s brush are dated in the nineties. The technical man- nerism of textured underpainting was not so obvious: ly relied upon, and thereis a very perfect relation bez tween the size of the picture and the method of pre: senting it. Rather low in tone the landscape serves as a foil for the evening sky, subdued but suggestive in color, with indwelling though suppressed radiance, and the sense of infinite expanse. In the smaller can- vas the artist has expressed the beauty and immensity of heaven toa greater degree than in the pictures of larger area. The touch is delicate and fluid, the pig- ment more related to the brush than the palette knife. But with the transition to the higher key of the final period the sunset subject was discontinued although it still remains the most popular phase of Murphy’s art. In the final period Murphy attains his ultimate ex: pression, the result of a gradual development toward the personal symbol. The more graphic and descrip- tive character of his work is entirely sacrificed, the ingratiating and colorful mood of the middle period is seldom repeated, everything is eliminated which was not a part of the essential spirit. His pictures attain the maximum degree of unity. Within the most simple pictorial composition he has created thesymbol of freedom and expanse. It is the final statement of the release from the formal and acquired, the cared for and the elegant. Free, oh painter, to dwell upon the tumbled down, to indulge thy fancy for the pictur- 33 esque, free from the restraint of aristocratic demand and parlor prestige. Thou hast run away to fields forlorn, wistful in thy gazing onwards and upwards. It is the ultimate freedom, soon to be soaring in this air, and soon to be followed by the reaction toward form. A vision finally fulfilled, complete, never to be rez peated, unique. Devoid of the aesthetic exhilaration of design, entirely unconscious of entertaining brush work, without ornamental prettiness or captivating realization, the picturesof the final period pulsatewith vibrant and contagious spirit. Opposed to flat brush- work and that directness which consciously parades endeavor, the painted surface is everywhere animat- ed and living. In the aggregate the pictures of this period portray a single type of landscape, and reveal to the fullest ex- tent the final expression of the painter. When the storm and stress of changing seasons has passed and the colorful contrasts of October are followed by the tranquil atmosphere of Indian summer, Murphy sees in landscape the response of hisownsoul. The heavy masses of trees in foliage, the dark silhouette, the rounded forms are followed by the ephemeral inter- lacing of leafless trees, when delicate branches fade in moisture laden skies and scattered leaves patternin the brush. The earth is dry and sere, the last touches of living green have perished, the landscape is bathed in fast fading light. 34 ‘Ay, thou art welcome, heaven’s delicious breath, When woods begin to wear the crimson leaf, And suns grow meek, and the meek suns orow brief, And the year smiles as it draws near itsdeath. Wind of the sunny south oh, still delay In the gay wood and in the golden air, Like to a good old age released from care, Journeying, in long serenity, away.” Titles cannot suggest this landscape. A few de: scriptive words sufhced for many variations and the same title is often repeated, indicative of the season or time of day. The associative idea is so enveloped in the predominant mood that it transcends the limi- tation of place. Everything is still, a house alone or uninhabited, a distant barn; no cattle graze upon the fields, at most, perhaps, a touch of smoke only, telling of the presence of man or fallen tree forlorn. No sign of distant country, expectant, beyond; unending the horizon. In the stillness, perhaps the little things of earth give forth sentient vibration and the poet pene: trates the secret. In comparison with the earlier pictures the key is heightened and the range of values dimished. The chiaroscuro and the concentration of light at the focal point, so characteristic of the earlier work, is replaced byan evennessof lighting andadiffused radiance. The atmospheric envelopment is carried to the highest 35 degree of unity consistent with subtle variation. The oneness of effect is expressed without focal concentra- tion and the emphasis is given more by the decisive accent than descriptive detail. Thus thereisacertain concentration of the vision produced more by the ar- rangement of mass and the calculated spotting of fore- ground objects than by the more photographic tight- ening of the focus by means of defining detail. This gives that largeness of view, the feeling of expanse, of heightandbreadthanddepth. Theformisevery where merely suggestive and entirely related to the mass. This extreme generalization is particularly consistent with the autumn season when the softness of the half tone is more apparent than the fullness of the form. Murphy’s temperament merges with the theme and the theme is himself. Realistic in the larger attributes of earth and sky, he, nevertheless, by means of selecz tion and preferment, makes the landscape conform to his own sensibility. Posing in the homely association of environment and the realistic objects of neglected and lowlylife, the subjective element of Murphy’s art is truly idealistic. Familiar in the casual rendering of the elemental details of earth, his expression is, not: withstanding, abstractand transcendental. Histheme in the ultimate sense is the unity of man with the unz known. His pictures express a continual seeking for the eternal. Change abruptly from an early example in which the objective interest is uppermost to the later expression and we will see at once the quest of the universal. The purely objective world of form did 36 not have a great interest for our painter; he finds in his simple compositional subject material enough for improvisation, and he plays upon its variations the eternal theme of yearning for unity. He reflects little of his actual environment except the light, the tone, and the effect of atmosphere, and uses his simple store of the objective world to reflect his subjective nature. Symbols all: a rail fence has served as well as an arz bor, a barn as well asacastle, and weeds as well as flowers. We are not deceived by thy homely attri- butes, oh painter of the fields. Underneath the fallen log is thy living spirit; beneath thy gruff manner the shy and sensitive child. The drawing comes to be merely the most sum- mary indication. The brush is used with the lightest touch suggesting only the leading line and accenting the essential characteristics. The solid structure of the earth is rendered more by the heavy texture of underpainting than added detail, which in the later works assumes something of amannerism. The near by pool so frequently used is a means of bringing the cool note of the sky down to earth, thus giving an em- phatic contrast revealing the solidity of the ground, a pictorial device which Murphy learned from Wyant. The fallen tree, the corded wood and simple objects of interest are used for the more important effect of directing the eye to the distance or emphasizing the pictorial rhythm. The edge of the woods breaks the horizon and gives a background against which grace- ful trees are relieved. This simple and often repeated 37 motif suffices as the scaffolding for the tone and the quality of the pigment which is the true medium of expression. Therefracted edge, the quickened accent, the utmost simplicity of form, the absolute relation of values gives to the picture a very unusual carrying power. Delicate, soft and ephemeral, enveloped in an atmospheric ensemble, Murphy's pictures never- theless reveal the bulk and weight of earth, the grad- ual recession of the ground, the definite character of trees, the ethereal quality of sky, and bring out the deli: cate nuance with its own particular significance in quite as telling a manner as the more striking objects in the composition. It is this subtle sense of relativity which gives an extraordinary force to the most deli- cate theme. His pictures have, i in aword, the carrying power of nature. Like the singing quality of violins when properly attuned, quite as telling as the more blatant sounds of brass. Theperiodin which Murphy’s finest pictures were produced is between 1901 and 1916. Within that time his message was fully consummated. In the last few years of his life the tone is not so sensitive, and the repeated quest of quality and unity resulted in a gen- eralization inclining toward vacancy. His interest came to be finally in the light itself, the undescribable and subtle beauty of color as one sees it in November looking from the shade of a window outwards, when the variation of hue is so closely related toa predomi: nant tone, producing a vibrant delicacy really tran- scending the limitations of mere paint. 38 theless reveal the bulk at 3 ne she | ual recession of the grows hed nite ¢ chee” nuance wis its own particu quite as telling a manner as he th S in the composition. Itis this st ve" which gives an aseesr | ol cate thebiveced gitkasclanits ch woekag st oer se pene snl 29 gq blatant sounds of brass. The periodin which Mutphy'ei ni produced is between rgor and i . time his message was fully consus few years of his life the tone is notsosem repeated quest of quality pearhre sul eralization inclining toward ¥ cye came to be finally in the light esl e and subtle beauty of color as one sees 1 ir looking from the shade of a-wir low culty the variation of hue is so closely vel ited t nant tone, producing a vibrant deli¢s _scending the limitations of mene pai 36 In 1904 we have the October Day. In this one pic- ture the painter seems to have told his simple story in the most compelling and definitive manner. It is one of the most perfect examples of Murphy’s brush. The masterpiece of a life of continuous striving for the ful- fillment of a single idea. The photographer can mere ly suggest the subject. Its great beauty lies in the tonal envelopment combined with the perfect harmonizaz tion of subject with sentiment. There is a supreme poise in this picture that seems almost the embodiment of faith; a serene stillness the symbol of contemplative contentment; an expectant hush indicative of the un- known beyond. It is more than a landscape, and yet how simple and homely in its theme. How signifi cant the rail fence, whatacompelling accent, how tell: ing the fallen leaves; how subtly varied the simple silhouette. We get more than a sensuous exhilara- tion, more than a skillful description of a place and yet strangely this picture seems the veritable proto- type of all such places. | In the Gray Day oftg08 the color scheme is in varia- tions of closely harmonized tones. The textures play an important part in the structural solidity. The hand- ling is vivacious and emphatic. Simple in composition- al scheme there is a happy relation of the action of the trees with the movement of the clouds. The termina: tionof leaf and branch is suggestive of the mannerism of Corot. The impulse of the picture and the rhythm has something in it of the changing weather which it describes. bbe. In the Grove and Field of 1912 we feel the utmost evanescence and suggestive charm combined with the rugged and barren solidity of earth; the sense ofethere- al expanse combined with the newness of trees and scattered wood. How well the vision is focused with- out any tightening of the brush or added detail; how perfectly the refracted edge is suggested rather than seen; always the quickened emphasis where the rhythm requires it, and the softened termination where the formis lost. The homely details ofearthand sky are made secretly to function in a purely abstract design, and the significance of relativity is highly sensed. Murphy seldom composed within the square pro- portion; the composition is always dictated by the ho- rizon; the division of areas given by the simple upright screen of woods. This favorite motif is most happily rendered in the Russet Season of 1915. Onacanvas in the proportion of two by three the horizon breaks well below the center, giving the sense of heavenly ex- panse; the border of trees on the left forms a graceful contour, made more effective by the slender upright tree and the decided horizontal contrast of fallen logs, emphatically punctuated by the woodman’s axe. A meadow brook leads from the foreground in a curve echoing the line of trees and directing the eye to the distance; an old barn breaks the horizon on the right, the angular gable of which adds a telling form reveal- ing by contrast the suggested expanse of distance. Thuswe note that Murphy balances thesoftened form 40 by the decisive contrast and although the effect is deli- cate it is never sentimentally sweet or vapid. This il- lustrates thefundamental traitof Murphy's character, that happy marriage of masculine virility with passive feminine charm. Wehave, too, that splendid sense of relativity, the solidity of earth gives ethereal quality to the sky; the softened edge of foliage adds vitality to the tree trunk that sustains it; the gradually receding plane gives added significance to the dome of heaven; the curved line is balanced by the angular; the em- phatic accent keeps the softened form from being over vaporous. Representing the typical aspect of familiar landscape the composition is nevertheless arranged withmost exacting and understanding care, thevaried forms are definitely related to a carefully organized unity. In the unimportant examples one may tire of the repeated and calculated devices of picture making, inthe inspired canvases like the Russet Seasononefeels their inevitable necessity. At times, too, we feel merely the arbitrary arrange: mentof a clump of trees poised on the left of the can- vas against a barren horizon; charming in tone and typical in manner, yet only by way of being another picture. One is over conscious of the technical man- nerism, the methodical underpainting, the pool so apparently placed, the corded wood, the sinewy trees and the stereotyped devices of the Murphy style. But oneis greatly rewarded by the inspired examples, en- velopedin mood and mirrored inthe heartofthe artist. So the Autumn Evening with its sense of inevitable AI reality; The Autumnal with the surge of significant and symbolical line; the Hills and Fields so completely characteristic of our eastern country or the Grove and Field in which one is imbued with the mood of the art: ist and lives in the indwelling spirit of the landscape. So Murphy reclaims and proclaims himself. PART THREE | Op acanie expression has acontent, aconception and a means of projecting it. The content belongs more to the age than the individual. It is the leaven, un- formed; the group thought. The conception is conz cerned with the personal endeavor to give the vague yearning and passing emotion a definite and lasting form. The method of expression belongs tothe craft to which the individual adds his personal technique. The most characteristic trait of an artist isoftenthat of which he is most unconscious. Knowledge acquired by force of will and intellect is too dearly bought to be forgotten; but that which is innate is too near to be recognized. As one is so much a part of ones own time that itscharacteristics cannot be justly estimated, so that which is a part of ones natures not objectively measured. Likewise it is only in historical retrospect that one can gain a comparative ideaof the significance and import of the works of a given time or of an indi- vidual artist who is a part of it. The content of Murphy’s art is a part of his epoch. It is the outgrowth of the reaction from the artificial and the unnatural which finds its first utterance in the 42 later part of the eighteenth century resulting in the political upheaval of revolution. Itis likewise areturn to the traditions of the North as distinguished from the classical traditions of the South. In a time which produced the noble and the prelate, and looked consciously to a higher order, we cannot conceive of the reproduction of the lowly, of the mood engendered by melancholy and introspection. In an age of liveries and lackeys we must likewise look for ostentation and display. The red velour belongs to the gilded chair and the lace which adorns my lady who sits thereon. When the court plays at pastorals the ground is no longer made of common clay, but like a theatre wherein gallants play a part, is made of scent- ed greensward and patterned for the play. Unwel- come dreaded guest, the reality of self! Oh terrible time when gay lords must reckon with reality. Fate- ful time when the artificial is overthrown with blood. In painting, this awakening of the individual spirit severs the servile tradition with the past. It is related to the change of patronage, from the desire of the aris- tocracy and their followers for the elegant and decora- tive, the echo of the classical and the artificiality of historical associations, tothe aspirationand realization of the individual. It isthe natural manifestation of the yearning forthetrue andsignificant, the living impulse as distinguished from the effete repetition of false or empty conceptions. Itis a direct return to nature: self seeking. In England Constable is the true father of modern 43 landscape painting, amassing a wealth of material gathered from personal impression and observation and finding his fee emeinhis everyday world. InFrance Theodore Rousseau restores the northern tradition, holds nature asa sacred example and derives his forms therefrom. Corot reanimates the rhythms of Claude, but bringsthem nearer earth; while Millet sees his sub- jects in their natural environment unrelieved by the play pastoral of his predecessors. Thedirect influence of these masters comes to New York in the seventies where sentiment has been atz tuned by forces similar to the old countries and where the receptive spirit is intuitively awakened. Inness, dissatisfied with the more superficial accessories of picture making, has felt the appeal of kindred souls and sees in nature other visions than those of artificiz ally fashioned landscape. Wyant comes to realize the significance of simplified forms and the emotional power engendered by their expressive relation. In literature Jean Jacques Rousseau heralds the rez turn to nature; Chateaubriand seeks romance in the wild, SERGE VER ove} remote, and restores the gothic tradition of the North. Outward glitter and display _ gives place to brooding melancholy and sentimental introspection. In England Shelley dreams of the spirit freed of convention and Wordsworth imbues nature with a soul and enters into communion therewith. In America we echo the foreign urge. Thoreau is the most pronounced embodiment of individualism and self independence. Heisnourished on nature and lives 44 in harmony with her ways and moods; Whitman more egoistic lounges passively tothe earth song. The lowly, the uncultivated, the natural, the common, the ordinary, find in mana sympathetic and intimate rez sponse. Art in short becomes democratized. The subject changes from the elegant and artificial, remi- niscences of past glory and high estate, addressed to the cultured and luxurious, to the more humble and less extravagant theme derived from personal experi- ence and individual reaction. It is not merely an artistic caprice that painters come to like the tumbled down, the weeds and marshz- es, the unkempt fields, the wayward path. Signs not merely ofthe picturesque but of that deep revoltofman from the tyranny of oppressive form, and theyearning for reality in the simple and unadorned. It is not by chance, then, that Murphy instinctively portrays the lonely expanse of waste fields and uncultivated lands, or drawswith loving care the weeds and flowers of the fields; not merely the sentimental picture maker who watches the brooding sky or seeks beauty in the fad- ing light of day. Fields, the homely waywardness of the fields, their naturalness and simplicity, the un- affected beauty ofthefields. Thecommon earth, moth- er of all things. Thesky, not mounting zenithward in splendor, but always beyond, hovering friendly over the horizon. Earth and sky. This, the content of all that Murphy painted, is his instinctive inheritance. Not the sumptuous form of opulent trees, joyous sunshine and blue sky, or the 45 splendor of flowered fields; no lure of that earthly par: adise wherein-mandreamsinverduredvales and flowz ingrivers windtheir way; butlow, unattendedstretch- es, sered woods or barren hills. Gray melancholy, alone. Murphy seesno unfriendlinessin solitude; there are voices in the silence, whisperings in evanescent twilight, communion with earth spirit and self com- munion. The sentiment is not bitter, or morose. It is blithe and enchanting. No hint of impending ca-z tastrophe, no suggestion of the dramatic, but an aerie melancholy fond ofits own musing. Earth is not mere- ly the place of human toil, of livelihood and hardened lives; man has left the fields his day’s work done. Naz ture has its own life, its own reverie. This simple landscape, bare of outer show, is en- veloped in the glamour of golden light. This is the se- cretof that magicalcharm whichtransformstheharsh- ness of earth, bathes the sky with indwelling radiance and imbues the picture with spiritual significance. The simplest aspect of nature has become the medium of revealing the mood of man. The expression is purely suggestive; the manifestation butamood sym- ol. The evolution of Murphy’s art is in revealing this sentiment freed from irrelevant and unrelated matter. The pictorial theme is reduced to the simplest struc- ture. The ingratiating accompaniments of picture making are sacrificed until the mood stands revealed in its ultimate purity. The theme is completed. Be- yond is merely aérial vacancy. The paintercan gono 46 16 inches high, 22 inches wide. — lower right, “J. Francis Murphy 1908.” ger ‘ < r S en ’ musfion. The sentiment 1s Re Bs tastrc ms no sug $gestion of the d nelancholy fond ofits own mins ture has its own life. its own rever | and imbues the picture with. sp ndor of flowered fields: rem lise wherein mandrea WS dicts ivers windtheirway; but own pHatte d woods or barren Murphy s¢esno ur ‘e voices in the silence ght, commumon w ith eaetis He = ignite, yl he and nich anting. No ® hae place of human toil, othe eli ian has left she Gelds alee ‘ Lis singgle EAR ARCARE » ett Ss “eee BLO tS ed ame a ; etotthatm agicalcharm eka was of earth, bathes the sky within ; sim iplest as pect of nature has be nee fn re ing the mood of | ae & purely su niggas stive; the manifestation” “ae ‘4 | | The pom of Murphy’s ar sentiment reed fom irelevantan an The pictorial theme is reduc e | ture. The ingratiating” accom making are sacrificed nti d the snoc in its ultimate purity. The # € . yond is merely aérial vacaney ' farther; his single idea is consummated. With the simplest pictorial material, the most humble theme, Murphy creates a picture of transcendent charm. The content of Murphy’s art is, however, in no way unique. It was the common property of his epoch. He has given no new ideaor subject matter; he has invented no new design or aesthetic innovation; his color awakens no new sensation; he has erected no architectonic scaffolding on which others might build. His work is not intellectual. He has stamped his per: sonality on the surface, in the patina, the characteristic touch, the tone sequence and atmospheric envelopz- ment. His expression depends upon the nice relation of harmonious tones and tender gradation within a well-balanced compositional theme, imbued with ex- quisite sensibility and expressive feeling, essentially tranquil and serene, wistful and melancholy. It will be seen, therefore, that Murphy’s artis more personal than original, more expressive than creative. For we must distinguish between personal feeling and that more highly synthesized and creative projection which transcends the sensuous impression; between the personal emotion and the impersonal conception. Gradation, envelopment, and tone sequence, apart from representative form, is perhaps the most allur- ing and ingratiating element in modern painting. Although feelingly expressive, it is hardly related to the sheer creation of form, the architectonic design of the great masters. It is analogous to the gradation of sound in modern orchestration, the use of crescendo ai and diminuendo, so emotionally compelling and yet often so constructively vacant. This personal feeling, expressed in tonal relation and enveloped in atmospheric ensemble, is most comz- pletely rendered within the simplest design. It does not allow of strong structural form, of interrelated solids or rhythmic action. Thus we see only two fundamental planes in Murphy’s pictures: the earth flat and receding, the sky upright, and the foil of bare trees giving a simple angular contrast. The perspec: tive vanishes in thin cloud veils, always beyond, in- definite, symbol of the unknown. The form is never absolute, never fully defined, always suggestive. This suggestion becomes not merely a technical manner- ism, but a language in itself, the very means of avoid: ing the final and decisive, the symbol of uncertainty. Forms do not come outward indicating circular vol- umes, but always recede. The scattered wood, the fallentree, the stonefence point always to thedistance; the edge of the woods merely emphasizes the horizon. The typeof sky is invariably chosen with the light be- yond, diffused and never apparent. No indication ever of the blue dome of heaven, colored roof of the world; no rounded clouds sailing over heaven's seas in wave-like motion. Silence, solitude, serenity. A soul bathed in uncertainty, waiting. The pictorial conception is extremely simple. It is little more than anice relation of horizontal and verti cal within a given space. The proportion is oblong; the horizon just below the center of the canvas. The 48 composition is invariably static. There is little inven- tion in design. The rhythm is rendered more by gra: dation or variation of light and dark than by line. The interest is in the middle ground or distant sky. The curve or the rounded form plays no part in the con- ception. The compositional content verges upon the vague and anemic. Itis held together only by thetone sequence. In this sense Murphy repeats the style of his predecessors. It is the inheritance from the lowlands of Holland in which the horizon forms sucha conspicz uous part. Itis continued by Rousseauand the painters of Barbizon and followed by Inness and Wyant. There is a profound psychological index in the aes- thetic use of form and line, the unconscious record of the spiritual sensibility ofa given time, far more potent in itsrevelation of mankind then the more patent facts of history. There is little variation of the dominant structural scheme in nineteenth-century landscape art, and it denotes a certain passivity rather than ani- mated activity. Constable’s conception of the volume of form is seldom repeated, except perhaps by the virile Courbet, and the static theme based upon the horizontal remains the predominant pictorial idea of nineteenth-century landscape painting. It is natural therefore that Murphy should repeat this traditional form for his was a passive rather than an active nas ture. Sentimentally it was a recollection of boyhood days in the middle states, but for one who passed the last half of life in a mountainous country in which the flat horizon is absent and the curved line and full- ay ness of form is everywhere apparent, this static tend- ency was far more deeply rooted in his nature than sentimental recollection. His apparent likes and dis: likes show this personal limitation, whichif you will is the making of personal character. Certainly a pro- nounced limitation gives a definite direction to mani- festion, as we may note in many of Murphy’s con- temporaries. Murphy disliked the sturdy fullness, the rotund majesty of the oak tree, and the fir seldom fig- ures in his pictures. The apparent or obvious form was not sympathetic. He loved the slender trees that one sees on the edge of a clearing, the second growth that follows where nobler trees have fallen; or young: er shoots that feed by wayside pools untroubled by the farmer. Here we have an index of Murphy’s nature far more accurate than biographical chronicle. It is the delicate, the tranquil, the serene with which heis spiritually associated. He loved the marsh and the tender things that grow therefrom more than the trees, for he was deeply knowing of the little things of nature. He was on good terms with nature as he was with man and was closely drawn to the inner nature of life. PART FOUR URPHY was not a colorist in the full sense of the term. His color is related to values and his values to light. He was therefore more truly a tona-z list than a colorist. He worked within a very limited range of related hues and produced the effect more 50 values to light. He was rer more, list than a colorist. He worked withing tange of related hues and produced the ness of ra is elehe spgcene ency was far more deeply rooned. sentimental recollection. His a likes show this ersonal ates is the making - nounced limitation gives a defi . a festion, as we may note named a ft temporaries. Murphy disliked the stu f rotund majesty of the oak tree, and the fiz ures in his pictures. The apparent or abe was not sympathetic. He loved the one sees on the edgé of a clearing, the sec that follows where nobler reeshave er shoots that feed by wayside} OX O farmer, Heretio ne, 6Lagae uenee i ~ utph far more atiteiee’ th NIE, TRIE eration tame: the deft So the tran (pur the seven spiritually associated. He loved d tender things that grow therefre trees, for he was deeply a of nature. He was on good terms: was with man and was ass nature of life. si a a | PART FOUR AURPHY was not a colada’ the term. His color is relate Re Pet PP a PR cae Nedieg eae “hae with harmonic variations than contrasts. The typical color scheme of Murphy is based as much upon its rez lation to the gold frame as uponits more realistic attri: butes and he created the tonal quality largely by the frame as a point of departure. His pictures are not conceivable apart from the gold background. This determined the key of the picture. A study of the palette reveals the fact that the re- lation of the natural pigments of the warm scale forms a sequence both of value and hue but of a simi- lar degree of intensity. We note the harmonic rela- tion of the earth and mineral colors, from yellow ochz te, gold ochre, raw sienna to burnt sienna, and from the warmer light red through venetian to indian red. Whereas if we turn directly to the cool side of the pal- ette we see immediately that the colors are of a deep value and limited in number. Murphy was conscious of this fact, as the setting of his palette indicates, and his color scheme is based upon the natural attributes of the earth pigments. We do not recollect a positive blue, purple or green in any of his pictures. The cool note was attained primarily by its relation to the pre- dominant warm hue and hardly ever transcended a gray. The admixture of white imparted a cool hue to the color and likewise rendered the more opaque at- mospheric quality of thesky. Murphy did not experi- ment with the full gamut of the palette either in hue or value, but he had a very subtle appreciation of the intrinsic relation of a given color to its value and did not over darken or lighten it to reduce its nature. 51 Thus he worked in the normal scheme of the pigment itself and did not strain its possibilities. In the science of the palette we may say that he worked entirely within the middle register both in value and intensi- ty and that the range of both is limited to stress rela- tion rather than contrast. This will explain why Murphy was more success- ful in his pictures of autumn than of spring. In the lat- ter the green is related to the gold of the frame by graying it to the same degree of neutrality and raising itin value by meansof white. Butit will be seen that the natural range of this hue is limited. It cannot go toward blue without becoming appreciably darker unless raised by white, and it cannot go far in the sez quence of yellow without losing its character or bez coming more intense by the intermixture of a brilliant yellow and thus losing its approximation to the neu- trality of the gold ofthe frame. As Murphy produced his effect by subtle variations in value he had to light- en the green with white and thus lost that more trans: parent and richer quality of the warmer colors and their natural variations. Murphy did not use compliz mentary contrast and his pictures in green are there- fore reduced to almost a monotone. Murphy’s method of painting was purely personal, the outcome of that intangible and evanescent mood which cannot be rendered by the more direct and ob- vious means of painting. His aim was to conceal the means entirely so that the brush strokes and the maz terial devices of manipulation would not be apparent. 52 ty wad i ie range bi sited to tion rather than contrast. ;, s mot eh (onan graying it to the same degree of ne itin value by means PY Mes Butit the natural range of this hue is! ‘toward blue without bec “app unless raised by webtina cmt — 5 beans > yan dai yellow and t ginrey & ap = oximat trality of the gold of the frame, Aan his effect by subtle variations inv en the green with white and thus lost parent and richer quality of rise } their natural variations. Murphy ot mentary contrast and his pictures in ; ag 3 fore reduced to almost a monotone. ' Murphy’s method of pers w. ait tt the outcome of that intan and 1 which cannot be nly them re) vious means of painting. His eu ve to means entirely so that the bette | ny Kes terial devices of manipulation would net ee pie PELL LmZ a wee My on Dexterous, skilled and decisive, his painting never parades itself; facile, subtle and rhythmatic his brush does not separate itself from the totality of effect. The technic is engendered by the mood and intimately re: lated to the feeling to be expressed. The man and his work are inseparable. Murphy was not a brushman in the painter’s mean- ing of that term. He did not paint directly la premier coup; nor did he use a sketch to work from in the studio. The direct study from nature was made with pencil notes, in later life mere summary indications hastily rendered on some stray piece of paper or en- velope. His subjects were not definite transcripts of particular places; his impression was formed largely by random observation and later synthesized to con: vey merely a general type of landscape. The color combines fullness of tone with transparency and an indescribable pigment quality beautiful in itself. To ef: fect this result the canvas was first carefully prepared with an underpainting which was applied with a stiff heavy pigment in the predominant hues of the given theme, generally in variations of goldand brown. The palette knife flattened the pigment, thus imparting the maximum power of reflection without the small shad- ows caused by the interstices of the brush and creat: ing a pigment texture suggestive of the bulk and weight of earth and the aérial softness of sky. This was allowed to dry over a period of several months. When thoroughly hardened the pigment was pum- iced or smoothed, forming a solid, lacquer-like surface. Da Meantime the canvas with its variations of texture and hue became suggestive of the theme. When the moment of painting arrived the conception was fully formed. In the second painting the pigment was brushed very thinly intermixed with sicikatif de Harlem al- lowing the underpainting to partly show through. The picture was continued while the paint was still wet, but if the result was not satisfactory the surface was scraped and with rags and turpentine the fresh paint entirely removed and the canvas restored to its first underpainting to await anew adventure. This method permits of the utmost freedom of suggestion in brushing and explains the lightness of touch and dexterous improvisation so happily combined with solidity and texture, and tells, too, how the pigment quality is attained without the laboured effect of rez peated overpainting. The thin, cool overpainting also adds that particular atmospheric effect so character- istic of Murphy’s landscape. In the pictures of the middle period, which are darker in value, there is con- siderable transparent glazing to produce depth of hue, and also the suggested half tones of branches against the sky or tangled underbrush. The touch in the final painting is liquid, living and inimitable. No ele- ment of his work is more characteristic of the painter's personality. Thus Murphy combines the most deliberate ccs matic composition with the accidentals of a dexterous technic, the most casual and summary handling over 54 a carefully prepared ground and unites the lightness and freedom of instinctive improvisation with a cal: culated pigment quality. This gives that indefinable charm to his work in which the ultimate is enveloped in the ephemeral. PART FIVE PICTURE is so much paint and material matter merely, until it is quickened by the comprehen- sion. Brought into being by the idea of its creator, it is reanimated only when that idea finds a sympathetic response. The true significance, therefore, of an art: ist’s work is the living reaction of the beholder. Asin so many mirrors, the idea becomes reflected and lives again. There can be no didactic or single judgment, no arbitrary measure or standard. It ismanifestly unz fair and irrelevant to measure the intention of one art ist by the different conception of another. The final import of Murphy’s achievement exists, therefore, in the individual minds of those who have beheld his pic- tures. Living for those who find a significance therein, dead for those to whom it is dead. Lacking all sumptuous form and sensuous exhilira- tion, devoid of ornamental prettiness and stylistic ele- gance, it is surprising that his pictures should appeal so truly to the average man. There is a deep signifi- cance in the love of Murphy’s art far more profound than the conscious realization of their producer, a sig- nificance most truly sensed by the unsophisticated. It is an indication of the spirit of a time far removed from 99 the superficial surface of outward activity, a spirit in- dicative of the yearning for the simple and unaffected, the homely and natural. The merchant, the money changer in the market, chained to the demands of the machine, restless, worried and nervous, looks wistz- fully at the expanse of earth and sky, the unadorned and selfzkeeping fields, free from care. Surrounded by luxury and artificial glamour with desires measured by dollars, wound up, clock like, kept going, the man in his city cage feels unconsciously the simple spirit of the lover of weeds, of earth and sky, and shares his reverie, less alone than in the presence of nature. For nature is merely a symbol to man. This creator of fields and sky has placed a symbol upon walls of gold, a symbol strangely in contrast to its environment. Not merely a window looking upon the fields of na- ture, it is the expression of one who finds tranquility and contentmentin solitude. No mere slice of nature this, but a symbol of serenity and silence, of happy days with nature communing. It is doubtful whether the farmer would be enticed by this landscape. He would find the fields neglected, the fences broken, the land undrained, the trees not worth cutting. He would see no fertility or means of livelihood therefrom. Your merchant would at once improve these fields, or fence around an estate, sepa- rate and apart, costly in its upkeep, of lawn and gar- den and artificial fancies. Alone with nature your office man would be but alone. Yet unwittingly he loves this soul who has found some glimpse of freedom 56 an, JSSET SEASON _ , 24 inches high, 36 inches wide. | lower left, “J. Francis Murphy 1915.” Mr. Amos F. Prescott, New York. E SUrtace Of ¢ arabe ; ty, a am Vicative oft cise + eat nine fe wT - Lad eal nck madre. F Ene Tats THAT A «= S hanger in the market, oba lacnine. re st tess, wore d res 4 | ly at the exp: se of eareh anil oh and sé i . k eepil & tre solide f ‘ee ER = ’ a iry and art icsa ee APE rdallars. wou come re ATS, WOOL othe a. k ies '} ati Cc it ity cage feels i a wise / &. ti er of weeds, of earth and sl cy reverie, less alone than in the pres nature is merely a symbol to maz pas { elds and sky has placed a sym ot ‘ symbol str angely Oe kteiks eeu Not mer el ya ara taint a Ds gets 2ionerd .|'73 tol Reh rane, ic URGE Sac A wilh Med un af content ment if sol itude, } oe " ' this, but a symbol of aa days with nature ne It is doubtful whether the & by this landscape. He would fi the fences broken, the land srs a worth cutting. He would seemed livelihood therefrom. Your enanaiia improve these fields, or fence same rate and apart, costly in ite up cae den and artificial fancies. An office man would be but a lowes thas soul niahenkeiatal a) - and tranquility, and aspires not to the confines of an estate. Worth more than the land it portrays, the treas- ure is negotiated in. The estimate of the man is meas- ured by dollars. Beware! oh trader in the market place, with too much handling the vision may vanish. It is rather to easy to dismiss Murphy’s art as being merely an echo of the Barbizon school. In fact this is to miss its significance entirely. Certain appended details, of the early work in particular, the ornament of picture making, are certainly derived from French sources. But the indwelling sentiment, if it relate to the French school at all, is precisely the thing that the French borrowed from the English and is in no sense typically French. It is likewise due to the popular mode of generalizing or grouping the masters referred to under the generic title of a locality and thus uniting men entirely disparate in purpose and sentiment. For it would be difficult to name three contemporaries more different in nature than Rousseau, Millet and Corot. If we would seek for origin it would be more appropriate to do so relative to the derivation of senti- ment, and this we should say is more truly English than French and more Irish than English. For Mur- phy’s expression reflects the aridity of earth rather than its sumptuousness, of poverty rather than boun- ty; and reflects, too, not British aristocratic pride but a certain lowliness of the Irish. The vision is always near the earth. Noechoof opulence, of park or estate, no ornamental decoration indicative of conscious care 57 or formality, no thrifty husbandry. Nor do we find that impeccable mastery of method so characteristic of the French, the rationalistic desire to embody the idea in absolute form, which with Rousseau, for ex- ample, becamea governing passion. Murphy’sarton the contrary is essentially suggestive. His fundamen: tal method does not permit of the realization or repre- sentation of form for itself. It evades the definite and precise and renders by means of tone and pigment quality, only the illusive and ephemeral. His art is therefore more poetical than truly pictorial. Murphy’s relation tohis American contemporaries was more immediate and also more resourceful. He began his artistic career at a time when the romantic movement was awakening the interest of the most active and sensitive minds, when the reaction against the topographical and photographic manner of Dus- seldorf and the Hudson River School was already a decided force. He was therefore not trained under the same traditions as Inness, Wyant or Martin who, it must be remembered, were among the most exempz lary masters in the style of the older school before the awakening of their mature expression. It is apparent that both Inness and Wyant had avery appreciable in- fluence in the formative period of Murphy’s art. It is true that Inness was too temperamental, impulsive and comprehensive to effect Murphy permanently. With natures so widely disparate there was little cause for any lasting spiritual affiliation, but there are certain pictures by Inness which gave adefinite focus 58 LE TRT OM PIII TB bt MGT RN Set i j that im re ethod of the mney the: ras eras he idea in absolute forrn. ample, became a governing the contrary is essentially s iggestve, Fis hum tal method does net of the realizatione sentation of form bared! ieevades th ¥ precise and renders by means ¢ | quality, only the illusive pa: therefore more ical than o . Murphy's relation tohis was more immediate and also mere began his artistic canceneacndiane ¥ 2 movement wabivi Butt SoS ene active and sontaert ing oy yah lane rel beans the topograp ashicat sad ph HoeSgrap hic an - seldontend the Hadce Man School . decided force. He was therefore ne same traditians as Inness, Wan must be remembered, were scell lary masters in the style of the older se awakening of their mature expres — pe a. that both Inness and W yeothad ara ' fluence in the cine. eine: >t IViGEDE true that Inness was toe4 z and comprehensive to effect } or With natures go oo | cause for any lasting sp: certain pictures by aula to Murphy’s tone and composition, pictures which for Inness were but a small part of his versatile and profound vision, but which for Murphy were the in- troduction to alife-long theme. The personal proxim- ity of Wyant at Arkville and the mature power of his art at a time when Murphy was still finding him- self was the definite cause of asympathetic and more lasting influence. Although Wyant was not deeply attached to the younger painter, and at times resented his presence, there wasa certain limitation in hisown nature, and a singleness of endeavor in his painting which made him a more appreciable and applicable source than the more impetuous and changing char- acter of Inness. It is inthe middle period of Murphy’s art that we find the most direct influence of Wyant. The simplified theme of silhouette in evening light, the tone, the restricted palette, reflect the tendency of the older painter. Murphy does not seek in experi- mental endeavor for other artistic affinities. He seems to see his way at once and does not deviate from the chosen path. But he has a complete mastery within his given limitations and he is a master in clearly rec- ognizing them. In this respect Murphy is similar to Whistler and strange as it may have seemed to their contemporaries, the two artists are in many ways closely related. For Murphy, although a rustic in his love of country and retirement, is fastidious and care ful to the highest degree in his painting. Both masters worked within a very limited range, both extreme tonalists. Whistler choosing the sequences of gray Dg and neutral hues, and Murphy working within close- ly related russets and browns; both composing with the most simple linear design — Whistler giving his work something of an oriental flair in decorative pat- tern and Murphy insisting always on harmonious space relations. We do not mean to stress the com- parison, but with natures so different otherwise, their pictures when hung together belong at once to the same age: vague, suggestive, undefined, mood envel- oped. Wecannot, however, measure the man according to the standards of greatness, without being decidedly conscious of his limitations. Certainly, no dynamic force let loose upon the surface of the earth. Man is given to differ from the earth, insomuch as he is changeable; differ from the fixed and static insomuch as he lives and finds his true being and active con- sciousness in contemplationand flight of intellect;voy- aging over the world, daring, adventuring, living in the past, the present and the future. Such is more the attribute of greatness. Such was a Shakespeare, cre- ating the tender lyrical and enchanting music of the sonnets, and the stern realities of Lear. So, too, was Goethe, sentimental and melancholy in Werther, grand and impersonal in his later creation, completely estranged from his earlier expression. Or note the early work of Turner and compare it to the transcen- dental expression of his later life. We live by contrast as well as affinity, and the greatness of a character is measured largely by its foundations. Thus wesee the 60 monumental Michael Angelo, strong set and solid, an unfinished pile but imposing, not towering into thin air pinnacle like, but lying heavily upon the earth and bound by the fetters thereof. Or Beethoven, tramp- ing downcast, with the war of unrest unceasing in his ears, a dramatic reality surrounded by the tinsel of arlor chairs and embroidery. No effete tower, illu: sion like vanishing in the sky like the fantasmagoria of an oriental trickster. A giant in chains, more like the traditional Prometheus, initiated in the secrets of the Gods and suffering the penalties therefrom. But do we enter into the wistful melancholy of man, conscious of his limitations, far from that turbu- lent throng beating furously upon the gates of heaven; do we stand at evening and watch the passing day as the light lingers over yon barren horizon, we thenseek consolation and rest and enter more contentedly in- to the homely realms of earth and sing with the last notes of evening birds, flying lowly in the branches and weeds, unaware of the perilous flight of eagles overhead. The restless ones do wrong to measure the littleness of man and become more little in consciously spying thereon; not like the great ones constant in upward flight nor fouling the earth beneath. For earth has its sweetness and weeds and lowly flowers their charm, and many a pretty secret is wafted in the air. 61 BIBLIOGRAPHY J. Francis Murphy—Painter. By Elliott Dainger- field. Scribner's Magazine, January, 1917. J. Francis Murphy. By R. G. McIntyre. The Mis- cellany. Vol.5. No.1. J. Francis Murphy; a Master of American Land- scape. By Charles L. Buchanan. International Studio. July, 1914. Notes on the Art of J. Francis Murphy. By Eliot Clark. Artin America. April, 1918. Miniature Landscapes by J. Francis Murphy. By Frederic Fairchild Sherman. ‘‘In American Painters of Yesterday and Today.” Illustrated, 1zmo. New York, 1919. Catalogue of Memorial Exhibition. The Lotus Club. November, 1921. Foreword by Seymour de Ricci. Catalogue of Memorial Exhibition. The Salma- gundiClub. November, 1921. Apprecation by James B. Carrington. Handbook of Loan Exhibition. The Macbeth Galz lery. 1921. Foreword by Charles L. Buchanan. Justice for J. Francis Murphy. By Charles L. Bu- chanan. American Art News. December, 1921. Murphy; The Traits of a Man Lately Lost to Our School. By Royal Cortissoz. The New York Herald: Tribune. February 6, 1921. 62 MEDALS AND HONORS In 1885 Murphy was awarded the Second Hallgar- ten Prize andin r910the Inness Gold Medal by the Na- tional Academy of Design; in 1902 the Carnegie Prize, Society of American Artists; 1899, Gold Medal, Pennsylvania Academy, Philadelphia; 1887, Webb Prize, Society American Artists; 1894, Evans Prize, American Water Color Society; 1901, Silver Medal, Pan-American Exposition; 1902, Gold Medal, Charleston Exposition; 1904, Silver Medal, St. Louis Exposition; 1911, Evans Prize, Salmagundi Club; 1915, Silver Medal, Pan-Pacific Exposition, San Francisco. He was a member of the National Academy of Dez sign, Society of American Artists, New York Water Color Club, American Water Color Society, Salmaz gundi Club, Lotus Club, National Arts Club and the Century Club of New York. EXHIBITIONS Memorial Exhibition. The Lotus Club. Novem: ber, 1921. Loan Exhibition. The Macbeth Gallery. 1921. Memorial Exhibition. The Salmagundi Club. November, 1921. Loan Exhibition. The Vose Gallery. Boston. 1922. 63 TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY COPIES OF THIS BOOK ON DUTCH HANDMADE PAPER PRIVATELY PRINTED BY FREDERIC FAIRCHILD SHERMAN Jp. FLSA . be j if p Pau, * ee oer ee a Lb Rea ows , ae ae ae { *. see Sg Sal BN UN. a Pete? TN Ve er BE ie St z + Sd ww faa: Rey ARO an bop Ray iepieep o Sg ae) LE: é eae hs Cin