Essays on - American Art and Artists by F. Hopkinson Smith Alfred Trumble Frank Fowler Nym Crinkle William McKendree Bangs William J. Baer Henry Eckford George Wharton Edwards Henry Hi v—William Howe' Downes George Parsons Lathrop Alexander Black Marguerite Tracy Perriton Maxwell Frances M. Benson Allan Forman Charles Mcllvaine ford Steele Lillie Hamilton French i__Charles de Kay Frederick W. Webber Charles M. Skinner Charlotte Adams Edgar Mayhew Bacon Arthur N. Jervis Cromwell Childe John Gilmer Speed W. Lewis Fraser i-— Clarence Cook I 5 °. I 5 I > l 5 2 - Underwood, Abby E., 210. Upton, Florence K., 204. Van den Broeck, Clemence, 196. Van Deusen, A. W., 187. Van Hofsten, Hugo, 129. Van Sant, J. Franklin, 129. Varian, George, 173. Villaret, G. E., 220. Vinton, Frederic P., 270. Waldeck, Nina V., 198. Walker, Sophia A., 204. Ward, J. Q. A., 73. Washburn, C. L., 241. Watson, Harry S., 96, 117, 178. Webster, Fred, 159. Wenzell, Albert B., 45, 46, 47. Wheaton, Francis, in, 181, 187. Wheelan, Albertina R., 175, 211. Whitmore, Charlotte, 207. Wiles, Irving R., 49, 75 , 85, 87, 157. Wiles, L. M., 49. Williams, Mary R., 211. Wilmarth, L. E., 87. Wirt, Dr. Marvin A., 223. Wood, George B., 219. Wood, Thomas W., 76, 83, 85, 155- Woodbury, Marcia Oakes, 274. Wray, Henry Russell, 220. Wright, Charles H., 127, 132. Yeoell, W. G., 127. Zeigler, Lee Woodward, 95, 171. AMERICAN ART AND ARTISTS. 9 I he women artists have a little world to themselves, partly because society does not know the way to the sky parlors, nor understand the jargon of tech¬ nique, and partly because the necessity of catching a gleam of light on the instant, demands the improvement of each shining hour and mood. Work means concen¬ tration, and concentration means solitude. They depend on the exhibitions and various stores to dispose of their sketches, because among all their friends could not be taken up a collection sufficient to purchase them. front Water Color Sketch by Rhoda Holmes Nickolls. Copyright, 1892, Houghton, Mifflin &■ Co. “ VENETIAN BATHERS.” FIVE WOMEN ARTISTS OF NEW YORK. By Frances M. Benson. The colony of women artists in New York has established itself wherever there is to be found a good north light among the housetops of the long lane of ambi¬ tion, just off the high road to success. Its members are mostly young and enthusiastic, working for very love of their art ; economizing with tea-pot and cracker jar, teaching and doing odds and ends of designing and decorating to make ends meet, and put by the wherewithal for journeys to the promised land across the sea the Mecca of all true disciples of Color and Form. They come from all over the country, attracted by the art atmosphere of certain quarters of the city ; the prospect of touching elbows with already famous painters ; the frequent exhibitions and noted sales, and the big windows where gems from renowned brushes may be studied without money and without price. As they get on in the world, their prosperity is marked by the addition of dull old squares of tapestry, pieces of quaintly carved furniture, a jar of marvellous mould, or an extra rug, and on certain days an effective light is turned into the studio and the presid¬ ing genius, in picturesque array, places before congenial spirits the tangible results of her inspiration, and maybe a cup of tea. When a woman steps boldly be¬ yond pretty copying and does work that is strong and imaginative, she is admitted to comparison with and the companionship of brother artists ; she may not be elected to active member¬ ship in the Water Color Society, but she may hope for honorary member¬ ship in that august organization, and more than content herself with being an officer of high degree in the Water Color Club. From Water Color Sketch by Rhoda Holmes Nickolls. Copyright, 1892, Houghton, Mifflin Co. “VENETIAN SCENE.” Such a woman is Rhoda Holmes Nicholls, one of New York’s best- known artists, although she has been here but eight years. She is an English¬ woman, who pursued her early studies at the Bloomsbury School of Art, Lon¬ don, where she won the Queen’s Scholarship of forty pounds a year for three years, and an additional ten pounds from her Majesty’s private purse, so pleased was that lady with the pictures sent for her approval. Mrs. Nicholls had also the advantage of three years in Italy, studying the human figure in the studio of Camme- rano and landscape with Vertunni, be¬ sides attending the evening classes of the Circolo Artistico, where artists of all nations teach and criticise each other. Here a Spaniard gave her hints of wonderful color, and a vigorous 10 AMERICAN ART AND ARTISTS. German taught her tone. She was elected a member of the Roman Water Color Society, being the second woman on whom was con¬ ferred so great a distinction, and Queen Margherita personally com¬ plimented her on her studies of Venice, exhibited at the Annual Display. Then she went to Africa for its wonderful lights and sombre grandeur of mountains seen amid cloudless skies ; its stretches of parched vegetation, and its flat- roofed dwellings with arched doors and enclosed courtyards. She set up an open-air studio among the Kaffirs and ostriches, and brought back innumerable sketches true to life. After a honeymoon in ideal Venice, she came to this country with her American artist-husband, and her water colors attracted im¬ mediate attention from the brill¬ iancy of their execution. Within a year she received a medal in the Boston exhibition for a small picture of “ Venetian Sunlight,” and shortly after, the gold medal from the A. A. A. (Asso¬ ciated American Artists) of New York, for “ Those Evening Bells.” Mrs. Nicholls has the rare talent of painting with a breadth of observation and a strength of touch almost phenomenal ; as one of the judges remarked : ‘‘She sees like a woman, and paints like a man.” Her Venetian pictures are among her finest bits of work, and she did some exquisite illustrations for W. D. Howells’s “ Venetian Days," two of which are reproduced on these pages. She seems to get the “serene, sunny moods of the sea city,” with its transparent atmosphere and the still heat of its unflinching sun, and the most vivid contrasts are made with a skill that blends without obliterating. Her pictures not only appeal to, but they hold the attention, until some hidden meaning comes out point by point, and the beauty grows with the beholding. There is bound to be a certain personality of the artist in any picture, and in these you find suggestions of a keen understanding, a close sympathy, and a touch of motherly pride and love ; for the bright-faced, sweet-voiced little woman is nearly as devoted to the children of her imagination as to the two babies play¬ ing about her studio. Mrs. Nicholls is still a young woman, notwithstanding the work she has accom¬ plished, and she has all the youthful capacity for viewing the world from its bright side. There is nothing gloomy, nothing cynical in her treatment of subjects. Her pictures are not a daily grind for bread and butter, but the exercise of a great From Water Color Sketch by Rhoda Holmes Nicholls. gift in connection with her duties as wife and mother. Her studio pins her hus¬ band's on the top floor of their cosey home, and the flaxen-haired boy and girl are not the least of the treasures to be found therein. Maria Brooks is another little Englishwoman recently come to our shores, and the way of her coming was distinctly pointed out by the hand of fate. Some wealthy Canadians, through their London agent, purchased several of her pictures, and were so taken with them that they wished to meet the artist. In their whole- souled fashion they invited her to spend a winter season with them, and suggested that if she felt she could hardly spare the time for a mere visit, she might make it a semi-professional one, and they would issue cards for a private view of such pic¬ tures as she would care to dispose of in Montreal. Learning through her solicitor that her unknown friends were people of high standing as well as lovers of art, Miss Brooks accepted their in¬ vitation, and has never been back to the other side, except on business. T here was a niche in New York waiting for a portrait-painter, and Miss Brooks fitted it perfectly. Her likenesses do not merely rep- m r e s e n t—t hey are the people before her. She k HOMAN SHARP-SHOOTER. From Water Color Sketch by Rhoda Holmes Nicholls. “a decorative figure.” has the faculty of painting a man at his best—of catching and transferring to canvas the expression friends love to see. “ You have a hundred faces,” she told a subject one day, “ and every time you come you bring a different one. Now we will talk awhile until you get around to the one I want; ” and there she sat, work in hand, chatting away about her pictures, her glossy green parrot, anything, everything, until the young lady, unaware, lost her self-consciousness, and the desired expression could be deftly introduced into the picture. She says the hands have as much char¬ acter in them as the face, and are really more difficult to do well, because the sitter is seldom willing to give the same time for them as for the head. Just now she is doing a series of little girl pictures, full-length but very tiny—just a dash of vivid coloring and a suggestion of a childish whim. It is to a child that she owes the turn her life-work has taken. She had been in the South Kensington school five years, designing, decorating, illuminating ; no woman student there had ever stood so well in perspective and anatomy, and she AMERICAN ART AND ARTISTS. Front Painting by Maria Brooks. From Painting by Maria Brooks. AMERICAN ART AND ARTISTS. 13 had won gold, silver, bronze, national, and local prizes beyond count, but had no definite line of work. A copy of her “Angel Heads” attracted a lady who wished a picture of a little son, and though Miss Brooks had never painted a portrait, nothing would do the mother but that the small boy should be made to appear as angelic as possible. The result was that the artist was overwhelmed with nine orders at once for portraits, and of these seven were afterward hung in the Royal Academy. Her work was exhibited for fourteen successive years at the Academy, until now she is content to show it in her roomy studio in The Sherwood. Marie Guise Newcomb is the only woman in this part of the country who makes a spe¬ cialty of painting animals, and abroad she is known as the Rosa Bonheur of America. She studied horses and dogs under Shenck, the ani¬ mal painter of Paris, and sheep with Chaielliva, and does a bit of landscape now and then as a divertisement or a background. She is a great lover of animals, and spends hours at a time among them, familiarizing herself with their moods and habits. At an up-town riding academy a box-stab was given her for a studio, and wealthy owners gladly tied their high-bred horses to the door¬ post for her to study. Mrs. Newcomb paints a horse’s portrait as seriously as Miss Brooks would do a bishop’s, and with as much relish ; and as her sisters in art study anatomy of the human form, so did she dissect quadrupeds in her mother’s conservatory, a quarter or a half at a time. She was fortunate in having a friend in the lady owner of a stock farm, and together they investigated the secrets of animal construction. Having become acquainted with the animals subdued by civilization, Mrs. Newcomb decided to go to Arabia and study the wild horses and the perfect Ara¬ bian steeds. She spent a winter in Algiers, adding to her collection sketches of Bedouins and camels. It is against the Arab’s religion to be pictured, and their fear of it is greater than of the Evil Eye, consequently they distrust the people who pretend to paint merely the picturesque street scenes and interiors. Not knowing this, Mrs. Newcomb one day attempted to copy a corner with an orange stand and a toothless old hag guarding it. The old woman kept her eyes on her, peaceably enough, until she got a glimpse of her scarlet shawl going in the sketch, when, with a lot of unintelligible gabble, presumably Arabic oaths, she tore the canvas from the easel, swung it around her head with incantations, rent it, and stamped on it in the wildest fury. The innocent artist was frightened half out of her wits, but the gendarmes were attracted by the mob collecting, and rescued her from an unpleasant position. Front IVater Color Sketch by Rhoda Holmes Nickolls. The Arabs learn to speak some French from the military stationed among them, and in that way they can converse with the ordi¬ nary traveller. Mrs. Newcomb finally made friends with them, and was invited to eat kous- kous—a really palatable mutton broth—from the common bowl on the ground, with wooden spoons they carved themselves. The head of the family ordered the oldest of his eight wives to bring from a hole in the wall a piece of price¬ less tapestry, upon which the guest was to sit cross-legged ; and, after the kous-kous, was served the delicious Arabian black cafe, a fine powder with hot water poured over it, nothing the like of which is imported to this country. They were much interested in our country¬ woman’s fashion of wearing gold ornaments in her teeth, and explained to her very care¬ fully what their custom was in such matters. They also wanted to stain her fingers from tip to middle joint— a mark of very great distinc¬ tion— assuring her that it would never wear off. From such inside experiences as these Mrs. Newcomo made a quantity of valuable artist traveller. From Algiers she went to the oasis of Biskra, travel¬ ling by night in a seven-horse dili¬ gence on account of the heat. The nights were as light as day from the white sand and thickly starred sky, and while out in the desert she learned the meaning of the Arab’s love for his horse. He watered and fed the animal before seeking his own rest, and he would as soon think of mutilating his own flesh and blood as of beating the faithful companion of his journey, or of “bobbing” the beautiful mane and tail in ugly British fashion. The first picture Mrs. Newcomb —then Marie Guise—sent to the Paris salon was a golden haying scene, with sturdy farmers and strong Brittany horses, and to her great joy it was accepted and well hung. Her greatest work, as she considers it, is entitled “The Work- Horse’s Need,” and is of life-size sketches, such as are seldom secured by the From Water Color Sketch by li/toda Holmes Azc/toiis. “ A SUMMER BOY.” From Water Color Sketch by Rhoda Holmes Nicholls. “ THE LITTLE MAID.” AMERICAN ART AND ARTISTS. 1 5 heads of four horses drinking from a street fountain. This picture represents several months’ close work, and into it she has put all her love of the animal and knowledge of its nature. The eager, thirsty beast, forgetting the heat and the weight of the load harnessed to it in the craving for water, and the grateful, satis¬ fied animal waiting for the word to toil on again, are shown with almost human From Painting by Maria Brooks. “ PORTRAIT OF FATHER HOWES.” pathos in the dumb faces. This picture is to be sold for the benefit of one or two small drinking fountains, as a special relief for work-horses. Mrs. Newcomb is a cheery little woman, with an easy, cordial manner and a winning personality—one of the chosen few who gain the confidence of strange animals and children. She understands them, and they trust her. When Mrs. C. B. Coman began the study of landscape, she supposed that all good work must abound in detail, but an exhibition of French pictures was a reve¬ lation to her, and she gradually came to believe that detail was useful only so far as it enhanced the value of the great qualities of light, air, and space. She studied in the French schools, spending her summers in Normandy and Holland, indulging her intense love of nature and outdoor work. She says her idea of perfect happi¬ ness is fair weather, some trusty colors, and a quiet spot where none can intrude. Of course the indoor painter does not have to brave the elements nor contend with a constantly changing scene, neither does she have the varied beauty of earth and sky spread before her eyes. The Dutch painters say that half an hour is all one can safely work at the same landscape, while from still life all one has to take in consideration is the waning light. Mrs. Coman has a sketch that was obtained under special difficulties. It was her last day in Holland, and she walked three miles through rain and wind to a wayside shrine standing between two gnarled old trees. The limbs of the trees had been blown one way by the strong sea winds, and formed a slight protection for the crucifix, where many a poor sailor’s wife had knelt implor- ing safety for the ab¬ sent one. The sketch- ers tied their easels to the trees and kept one foot on the palette, while they put in the rough water for the background and out¬ lined the wind-carved crucifix. The stormy day harmonized per¬ fectly with the pa¬ thetic subject, but by and by, when the call for home was sounded, the wind caught easels and trappings, wafted them out of sight for¬ ever, and literally blew the sketchers home. These interest¬ ing experiences are denied the figure- painter. Shortly after Mrs. Coman’s return from abroad, she lost by fire all the products of her six years’ labor — studies, notes, etch- i n g s , photographs. Fro 7 ii Water Color Sketch by Marie Guise Newcomb. AMERICAN ART AND ARTISTS. From Painting by Marie Guise Newcomb. “ LISTENING.” From Painting by Marie Guise Newcomb. “ PLAYED OUT.” tapestries, and bric-&-brac from Holland, Italy, and France. This was an irre¬ trievable loss, and she has been obliged to paint entirely from memory all her pictures, such as “ A French Village,” “Street in Cernay,” which have received much favorable comment. Her studio now is in her Adiron¬ dack cottage, where she gathers around her friends and pupils, who, like herself, are enthusi¬ astic over the open-air and im- ^ pressionist schools. Mrs. E. M. Scott finds her inspiration in flowers, and par¬ ticularly in roses. One of the best critics has said : “ She has a special understanding with ■ roses. They seem to like to have her paint them, and look their loveliest and tenderest for her.” At one exhibition she had a spray of Mermets, fresh and dewy, in exquisite tones of pink, placed in a vase that came from a cardinal’s collec¬ tion in sunny Italy, the bluish gray of the pottery melting Drawn by Marie Guise Newcomb. "waiting.” V FLORIDA ROSE GARDEN." into the delicate color of the roses. At the Boston exhibition her cluster of stately peonies in a glass pitcher, hung in the centre of the end wall, was observed of all observers for the extreme delicacy of treatment. Mrs. Scott says her first attempt at tures in her summer home. In the winter she devotes the morning to teaching and the afternoon to the thou¬ sand and one thing's that go toward the education of an artist in every direction. They have an entertaining little club of a dozen or so ladies and gentlemen, who meet fortnightly and criticise unsigned work. Of course each piece is torn to tatters, but they are careful to say what they like about it as well, so there is always some crumb of comfort for the artist. Mrs. Scott has such a pretty studio, with its books, bric-a-brac, and roomy seats built in, with shelves overhead filled with pottery. Of course there are pictures everywhere—on the walls, on easels, on the floor, leaning against anything that will support them-even behind the door. In one corner is a collection of blue delft from Holland ; another is devoted to fragile glass in iridescent urns and vases of quaint device, amber jugs and wine bottles from vineyard lands. From Water Color Sketch by Mrs. 1 “ PETUNIAS. . M. Scott. drawing was the copying of fashion plates, because, when she was young, pictures in the family were few and far between, and even chromos were scarce. It is the memory of her early struggles that impels her to help ambitious young girls. Having no daughters of her own, she takes her pupils to her summer home in the Fishkill hills, where, from May until October, 1,400 feet above the sea, they work together on views in the surrounding valleys, or from flowers culled from her old-fashioned garden. Max goes, too, and welcomes visitors to the mountain-top studio with the same dignified grace that he shows New York friends. Max is only a cat^ but he has learned a thing or two from association and travel ; he is a very cultivated cat, indeed. Mrs. Scott does the most of her pic- , ( c From Water Color Sketch by Mrs. E. M. Scott. iliElflilitlill AMERICAN ART AND ARTISTS 19 Drawn by Mrs. E. M. Scott. EARLY ROSES. AMERICAN ART AND ARTISTS. 21 A PAINTER IN BLACK AND WHITE. By Perriton Maxwell. HURE DE THULSTRUP, a pen draughtsman of posi¬ tive touch and facile execution, a painter of marked tech¬ nical ability in the monochromatic mediums, an aesthetic industrian closely identified with American illustrative art, and a man well versed in wars and travel, comes to us from the chilly clime of storied Sweden, where he was born, at Stockholm, in 1848. Of Mr. de Thulstrup’s personal character and career but little need there be said ; it is the character and ca¬ reer of his art, rather than that of the artist, which most concerns the writer. It will therefore suffice to remark that the youthful De Thul- strup received one kind of education at the Royal Military Academy of Sweden, from which institution he was in due time graduated with the usual honors ex¬ pected of men predestined to renown and riches. Soon afterward Mr. de Thul- strup took his first lessons in the larger school of life, and began that broader education which is called experience, and which ends only with death. It was an eventful period of our artist’s life when he went to bed one night an ordinary citi¬ zen of Stockholm and awoke the next morning to find himself a soldier entitled to wear the imposing uniform of a Swedish lieutenant of artillery. Then, tiring of this honor, he left his birthland and journeyed southward. After knocking about the prin¬ cipal cities of the Continent for a time, his military predilections came to the surface again, and asserted themselves so strongly that he joined the French army and went to Algiers with the famous “ Legion Etran- geres.” At this point of his life the future picturist of American periodicals was quite convinced that he had been born a warrior, and with this conviction firmly fixed in his mind, he suffered but slight difficulty in finding an abundance of rare entertainment and con¬ genial employment during the Franco-Prussian con¬ flicts of 1870-71. Perhaps it was because he experi¬ enced some sudden revulsion against the grim carnage and prosaic business of European warfare, or perhaps it was merely to gratify a long-cherished desire to be¬ come acquainted with the men and things of America, that he set sail for this country in 1873. At all events, the trend of his thoughts changed radically as soon as he touched these shores. War and soldiery com¬ pletely fled his mind, and very soon after his arrival here the embryo illustrator was installed as a student in the then recently organized Art Students’ League « STUDY of / of New York. This was the initiatory act in Mr. de Thulstrup’s art career. It soon became evi¬ dent that he would have no more of military life excepting on paper and canvas. He had relinquished his carbine for a stick of charcoal ; he had abandoned his bayonet for a brush, and henceforth his only battles were to be fought with the none too easily conquered problems of his new vocation. Mr. de Thulstrup’s life as an illustrator really dates from the publication of his first drawings made for the old Daily Graphic of New York. He remained in the service of this journal for several years, and when he finally severed his connection with the Graphic, it was to become a special staff artist for Frank Leslie’s periodicals. There is sufficient evi¬ dence in this fact that Mr. de Thulstrup’s gifts of versatility and sound workmanship were early displayed and early appreciated. In 1881 he was engaged by Harper & Brothers as a general illustrator for their publications, and by this concern he is still actively employed. Mr. de Thulstrup’s black and white productions are not to be too severely sub¬ jected to the critical analysis which may more properly be bestowed upon his work in color. And yet there are but few of his colored canvases that one would willingly exchange for a single bit of brilliant technique from his pen point or one of his spirited and broadly-executed paintings in black and white. More than any other illustrator of the day is Mr. de Thulstrup a thorough technician. He is a painter of pictures for the press. His illustrative work, executed for the most part under high pressure, has all of those nice artistic qualities which the cultured eye first looks for in a painting—honest brush- work, good composition, and large sug¬ gestiveness—and seldom are these pri¬ mary paintorial virtues wanting. While this holds true, it is also to be noted that the greater public of artless folk, who ask only that their eyes be de¬ lighted, find full enjoyment in the con¬ templation of Mr. de Thulstrup’s work. There is a happy union of suave subject and vigorous execution in all he does. His men, women, and horses are well-groomed and high-bred. There does not seem to be any par¬ ticular reason for their existence, but you are glad that they are alive, if it Sketched from nature by T. de Thulstrup. “SWEDISH PEASANT GIRL.” Sketched from nature by T. de Thulstrup. “SWEDISH PEASANT GIRL.” 22 AMERICAN ART AND ARTISTS. is only because they offered acceptable material for Mr. de Thulstrup’s richly- dowered tools. It would at first appear, if one may judge an artist’s mental equipment by means of his pictures, that here was a man whose perception of life is as broad as Shakespeare’s own. But Mr. de Thulstrup’s view of life is all upon one side. He has met many persons whose manners charm. His characters have many faces, and fall in admirably with their surroundings. The people of his pictures are never tragic or morose ; they are remarkably well-behaved. They smile and bow and make themselves agreeable to each other all the day, and you long to see the spell of amiability broken. You cannot help wishing at times that something calamitous would happen to disturb their oppressive equanimity. Still, they are such worthy persons, and their characteristics are so well presented, that you dismiss the desire for disturbance as something quite ungenerous, though warranted. It would be a pleasurable experience to find in any drawing or paint¬ ing of Mr. de Thulstrup’s making, some show of honest sentiment. He seems to be either supremely contemptuous or studiously careless of the subtleties of human emotion. It is hardly just to assume that he purposely ignores what may be termed the sub-surface qualities of a picture—the psychical and sensory side. And yet in none of his picturements, charmingly conceived and superbly executed as most of them are, is it possible to find a fleck of poetic feeling. It may be that Mr. de Thulstrup has no regard for what is called the spirituelle or soulful part of a painting, and he is not to be condemned off-hand for that in these days of numerous artistic dreamers who are without the power to acceptably embody their fine visions on canvas. But be all this as it may, we have the fact unmistakably fixed in pigment that the clever artist under consideration here, elects to present in his own strongly individual way the common scenes of contem¬ porary life in this and other lands ; the daily doings of the best persons in these lands, and the whole presentment made surprisingly real and vivacious as to the externals of things. In the representation of soldiery and horses the story Mr. de Thulstrup has to tell is invariable, engaging, and curiously dissimilar to his renderings of other animated subjects. Especially in the violent action of the horse does he display rare powers of obser¬ vation and a knowledge of equine peculiarities quite uncommon. His horses trot or gallop, rear or plunge, balk or stand immovable but alert, at the will or whim of his brush ; this vital activity is also part and parcel of his pictures of military life, and one cannot refrain from inquiring, when view¬ ing these stirring^cenes, why some of the same viva¬ cious movement and asserted feeling is not put into the artist’s pictures of ordinary men of health and lively affairs ? Mr. de Thulstrup’s talent for recording the bright facts of nature is unsurpassably fine, and it is with a deal of local pride and self-satisfaction that one calls to mind that the talent is a flower native to our soil though sprung from an exotic seed. What Mr. de Thulstrup lacks in divination and emotion he more than liber¬ ally repays in profusion of themes and a never-failing cheerfulness. 1 here is a visual delightment in the familiar poses and no less familiar faces of his men and women. Delightful are the grace and light-heartedness of his women, and equally delightful the sturdy build and athletic proportions of his men. It is beyond the grasp of mediocre skill to obtain such brilliant effects with so small an expenditure of artistic effort as Mr. de Thulstrup is continually doing. His is a consummate artistry, inherent to his nature ; as truly of himself as is his hair or his complexion. It is to be expected that the alien who comes to this coast and takes up with the necessarily unfamiliar ways of our life, should always retain a few of his home-acquired habits and betray in one way or another his foreign birth, and that upon the most momentous as well as upon the most insignificant occasions. But Mr. de Thulstrup has been saved from the common embarrassment because he learned the artistic speech of the place of his adoption before so much as the first principles of his own racial language of the brush and pencil had been taught him. Though somewhat advanced in manhood when he came across the brine, he was sweetly unconscious of the eminence he was one day to attain in the field of American art. That he has fairly won his way to the top and holds at the moment a position among the foremost illustrators of the day, is due altogether to his own unceasing industry married to a singular acuity and vigor of pictorial perception. The firmness of his touch and the charming idiosyncrasies of his method were taught him in no school. His perfect drawing is purely the result of observation and practice. There are no affectations or ob¬ trusive mannerisms in his work. The pictures he puts out of hand in these latter days are ac¬ curate, clear, and frank expositions of objects as they appear to normal eyes. He resorts to no cheap subterfuge of art, and seeks to charm more by his rugged sincerity and close adher¬ ence to natural truths than by the subtler schemes of pen point and brush. The best work that Mr. de Thulstrup has done is to be seen in the long gallery of black and white paintings and sketches formed by the recent volumes of the Harper periodicals. Especially in the larger supplementary designs issued with Harper’s Weekly do we see him at his best, and are afforded a closer view of his present artistic capacity. To say that he will perform many more brilliant feats of artistry in the limited medium he has chosen to employ, requires no special gift of prophecy. Such a robust talent as that which is the happy posses¬ sion of Mr. de Thulstrup must of necessity expand and reach out after loftier things. He takes life very seriously now, but his serious¬ ness is that of a conscientious student absorbed From a pencil sketch by T. de Thulstrup. “ STUDY OF A GIRL.” Traced from the original by the artist. “a summer girl.” 2 4 AMERICAN ART AND ARTISTS. in his studies. We cannot complain of his indifference to our pictorial incli¬ nations. Though we get from him nothing but the hard realities of life, we get them with a verve and freshness which warrant no dissatisfaction. The most casual examiner of Mr. de Thulstrup’s effects must realize that his remarkable precision of handling and assurance of outline does not come to him by a succession of happy accidents ; the persistent la¬ bor and careful analytical study he puts into the sim¬ plest of his drawings would make the tyro at illustration gasp with awe and admira¬ tion. To what extent Mr. de Thulstrup carries his care for absolute truth, the sketches and studies which accompany this limited re¬ view of his powers will afford some comprehension. The bold and free out¬ lines of the young woman seated on a camp-chair, with her back toward the specta¬ tor, is as good an example of the artist’s supple man¬ ner of pen-manipulation as could be given. ' The close studies of draperies in his pencil memoranda, and the spirited action of the me¬ diaeval cavalry-man and his fiery mount, display the ver¬ satility of the true illus¬ trator, and show what sim¬ plicity of style, coupled with soundness of drawing, will do for the depictor of the ordinary. Very much at ease is Mr. de Thulstrup in his pictured environments. Whether he be on the deck of a transatlantic steamer, in the brougham of a Moneybags, or before the belching cannons of fort or cruiser, the accessories of his illustrations are just what they are in reality, and not composed in the studio for the bare purposes of picturement. You entertain no doubt of his familiarity with the ever-varying backgrounds against which his figures are posed. You soon learn to trust him in the minor parts of a picture as you rely upon the veracity of the camera. But the difference between the realism of the camera and the realism of art is the difference between mechanism and thought—matter and mind—and when individuality stamps fancy and originality upon the thought, comparison ceases absolutely. The sphere of book and magazine illustration is one which yearly widens and gathers to itself complexity. There are few men engaged professionally in the art of illustration to-day who feel free to wander in every path which offers pictorial posies for the mere plucking. The art is divided into specialties ; this man is at his best in character delineaments, and that one has shown himself a master in por¬ trayals of marine life and oceanic episode. Still another illustrator is noted for his skill in picturing the gay life of the metropolis, while the man in the studio next to him confines himself to suburban views and people, or perhaps portrays with ex¬ quisite delicacy the doings of an imaginative world and its fancied populace. None but the men of widest est culture are en¬ tire gamut of modern who are given this not only the men art, but are the ones easily ruined by con- spot in the broad do- are wont to wander at of all they survey. In of versatilists Mr. de prominent and re- very few of his pro- are indeed more the high honors thrust The habitation of genius is the America present moment—and never at a loss for congenial surround- of contemporaneity strong arm of art, and peculiar uses such pleasing phases of Study for a painting by T. de Thulstrup. experience and broad- trusted to run the en- illustration, and those liberal privilege are most worthy in their who would be most finement to a solitary main over which they will, absolute masters this choice company Thulstrup holds a spected place, and fessional compeers deeply deserving of upon them. Mr. de Thulstrup’s of t o- day — of the thus domiciled he is amusement amid his ings. From his castle he reaches out a selects for his own strong types and every-day existence as most winsomely appeal to the numberless delvers in current illustrated jour¬ nalism. He is still a young man, is Mr. de Thulstrup— young as artists go—with a mind constantly engaged in conjuring new ideas and planning new campaigns in the realm of art. Life has a favorable aspect to him now, for to succeed in one’s calling and receive the substantial awards which ride with success is more to the aspiring workman than all other pleasures. Happy in his life as in his art— if it be permissible or even necessary to separate the two—Mr. de Thulstrup is most deserving of congratulation. Of his future career as either a monochromatic or multichromatic artist one may forecast many things agreeable. Certain it is that further enlarging his scope of subjects and attuning his art to the deeper and more resonant chords of human nature, he may be sure in the future of holding the affection of the people whose present regard for him is purely one of admiration. AMERICAN ART AND ARTISTS. 25 THE MORAN FAMILY. By Frances M. Benson. {With previously unpublished illustrations by most of them.) “ Nobility and genius run in families,” it is said ; but in this country, where titles point to a man’s profession instead of his ancestors, genius ranks higher than any mere patent of prefix or possessions, and is the real nobility. One man of arts, letters, or sciences will raise a family from obscurity ; two may immortalize it. It is rare indeed that any one family can boast of more than two clever mem¬ bers. It sometimes happens that when one member has distinguished himself to such an extent as to make the family name known in the land, a half dozen em¬ ulators spring up amongst his kindred, who immediately begin preening themselves in his reflected light, deceiving only themselves and the disinterested. When, however, the several members mark out separate and distinct lines for themselves as individuals, and attain prominence in each particular line, the radiance is no longer the flickering light of a single ray, but the fixed brilliancy of a many-pointed star. The Moran family is the most famous one in this part of the country for the ex¬ tent and variety of the divine gifts lavished upon it by the custodian of genius. There are sixteen members of scape, animal, portrait, etchers,and illustrators, these are so near the they are known as the It is pretty generally possible for an artist to drudgery of labor is genius, but the Apostles humblest branches of it is on record that his younger days, was house the customary mings, and that he did dreamer, carried a cam- best known out-door continent ; and Peter, apprenticeship with a i original etching by Stephen y. Ferris. “ GRANDMA MORAN.” it who are marine, land- and genre painters, and an even dozen of head of their class that “Twelve Apostles.” believed that it is im- be practical ; that the beneath the dignity of have not disdained the their calling. Indeed, Edward, the elder, in not above giving a three coats and trim- it well ; that John, the era until he became the photographer on the the etcher, served an lithographer, drawing on stone the foundations of flaming advertisements. Thomas, the student, was the delicate boy, but his later ambition stimulated his strength to such a degree that for thirty years he has averaged twelve and thirteen hours a day of close work, doing—besides his work in color—as much magazine and book illustrating as any living man except Dore. These four may be called the original Morans. Their wives and sons have kept up the family traditions and extended its numbers by taking up painting under the tuition of husband and father, and, with the aid of family criticism, have done wonderfully good work. The severest test for a Moran picture is the family conclave, with its abundance of expert objection, and occasional bit of friendly praise ; but in spite of discouragements, there is something in the atmosphere of the Moran studios that insures success. 1 he original Morans, being musicians as well as artists, invariably married into musical families. One wife has a magnificent voice, another is a superb pianist, and the children have the genuine Moran touch upon stringed instruments. What reunions this versatile family can have ! Besides the common meeting ground of pictures and music, there is among them a rare story-teller, brimming over with reminiscences ; they have been the world over and brought back trophies and memories exhaustless ; they have an intimate acquaintance with books and the makers of them. Most of them have a close knowledge of stage people and appur¬ tenances, and have played in small parts enough to get the inner life of that form of the representation of nature. It seems very like a poetic dream-life to go into the studios where velvet-coated genius divides its attention between a palette and a pipe. There are luxurious ru S s > priceless tapestries, collections of swords, pipes, and musical instruments, with 26 AMERICAN ART AND ARTISTS. here and there a gay bit of color or the glint of jewelled glass. You will notice, however, that there are not many divans or lounging places in these work¬ shops. The occupants are toilers to whom the eight-hour system would be a vacation. They have made their way to the front by no freak of fortune, but by constant application. The elder Morans pio¬ neered the way through discouragements of poverty and environment; the younger generation, though more favored in the selection of helpful surroundings, have had to work for an individuality that would save them from being considered mere copyists. “ lhat is why we boys have cut loose from the marine and landscape of our fathers and gone in for figures,” said one of the cleverest of the sons. “We were constantly hearing about ‘second editions’ and ‘chips of the old block. People criticised us according to what our fathers accomplished before us, and from the start we were handicapped by the great things expected of us. If our names had been Smith instead of Moran, it would have been vastly easier for us to make ourselves known on our own account.” In spite of the artistic trend of the family, Edward Moran, the leader and teacher of them all, does not believe in heredity ; he claims it is all due to circumstances. Back of him, so far as anybody knows, there wasn’t even a sign painter. The Front painting by Peter Moran. “ SUMMERTIME.” From painting by Peter Moran. From painting by Paul Nimmo Moran. “ A SIESTA.” ancestors were handloom weavers in and about Lancashire, England, and the children of each generation grew up in the factories, with lives woven in and out with the woof of the week’s work. Edward was the eldest of fourteen children, and began to be a wage-earner from the time he could reach the web, as was customary in that district. His first lesson in art was from a French neighbor who was famous the country round for decorat¬ ing the interiors of the modest homes with animals and sprawling vines, when he w * 1 HHHH UU:mUU! ill!" AMERICAN ART AND ARTISTS. Frotn painting by Edward Mor. was not wheeling potatoes to support his fam¬ ily. He found time to teach the nine-year- old Edward to cut marvellous figures from paper, and afterward to draw the outlines of them on walls and fences. Boylike, Edward did not stop there, but was guilty of tracing them even on the white cloth in his loom. One day, when his piece of cloth came to the measurement by hooking, it was found that fifteen yards had been disfigured with charcoal sketches, and the graceless weaver, instead of being reprimanded as he probably deserved, was dismissed with the advice to drop the shuttle and take up the crayon altogether. Soon after that the entire family came to America in search of new fortune and less crowded factories. They settled in Mary¬ land, but the prospect of a continual grind was too much for Edward. There would still be no opportunity to study, nothing to learn but machinery. He did up his be¬ longings in one big red handkerchief, and, with twenty-five cents in his pocket, walked to Philadelphia, begging food as he could by the way. Then came the tug-of-war ; with no money, no friends, no trade except the despised one of a factory hand, it was a pro¬ longed struggle between starvation and the determination never to go back to the loom. He went to work with a cabinet-maker and afterward in a bronzing shop, and to this day the skilful artist is quite at home with the tools of those trades. Give him a glue-pot and a piece of string, and he will accomplish wonders. However, there was no painting in that, and he gave up a comfortable berth to take a job of From faulting by Edward Moran. house-painting, believing it to be a step along the line he had marked out for himself. Outdoor work in cold weather with a three-pound brush stiffening in his hands was more than he bargained for, and he finally went back to the factory, where the future painter of some of the grandest ocean scenes of his day was seemingly swallowed up in a superintendent of machinery, at the munificent salary of six dollars a week. It was his business to keep the looms in repair and in action, and if he was smart enough to do that and draw a little besides, he explained to his conscience that he was fulfilling the spirit of the law, if not the letter. One day the proprietor walked in while he was industriously engaged in finishing off a most interesting bit of black and white, and then there was a cool acknowledg¬ ment that the artist had been appropriating whole half-hours whenever the super¬ intendent was able to crowd them in, and that he felt perfectly justified in defy¬ ing man’s regulations to make use of the talent the Creator had given him. Strange to say, the proprietor agreed with him ; asked permission to call at his little bare room to look over the sketches already made, and finally gave him a letter of introduction to James Hamilton, a Philadelphia artist. That was really the beginning of the end. Edward opened a studio in an attic room over a cigar store, with an entrance up a back alley, furnished it luxuriously with one chair and a New York Herald to sleep upon, and for three months alter¬ nately worked and starved. When he was the hungriest a lithographer asked him if he could draw on stone, and as he would have considered it flying in the face of Providence to acknowledge that he had never seen the stone referred to, he cheer¬ fully accepted the conditions and the position, depending on his mother wit to help him through. He succeeded in earning seventeen dollars before the firm went to pieces, and in the meantime painted two pictures that were purchased by a Philadelphia collector. This gentleman gave him his first commission, From etching by M. Nimmo Moran. From etching by M. Nimmo Moran. AMERICAN ART AND ARTISTS. 29 Front etching by Peter Moran. “an OLD NEW ENGLAND ORCHARD.” agreeing to pay him one hundred dollars for a certain amount of work properly executed. When the family heard of this turn of fortune, they moved to Philadelphia in order to give the younger boys a chance. One after another they went into Edward’s studio, and took their first lessons from the big brother who had been so brave-hearted and persevering, and to this day he is very proud of having started them on careers so successful. It was in this studio, years after, that the celebrated “Bohemian Council” met once a week. The class was composed of actors, literary men, and musicians, and after rehearsal on Wednesday afternon such men as Joe Jefferson, Couldock, Louis James, F. F. Mackey, Bishop, and like celebrities visiting Philadelphia, formed a semicircle around the teacher, who for one hour did all the work and all the talk¬ ing. The first lesson was devoted to putting black and white together in irregular forms, teaching the use of the pigment. Next, each form was turned to account, as the students chose, to show how easily a definite object could be made from indefinite outlines. After that the three primary colors and white were used, then another color added, and so on, until in ten lessons the distinguished gentlemen were turned out full-fledged painters in theory, if not in practice. After each les¬ son was finished, there was smoking, music, readings, and story-telling until time to adjourn to lunch across the way. Newspaper men reported the witty sayings of the “ Bohemian Council,” and if the minutes were in existence to-day, they would be eagerly pounced upon by publishers and readers. There is a very amusing illustration of the grit of the founder of the family, which, it is safe to say, pervades the whole. Edward became a member of the Academy of Fine Arts, which received a charter from the State of Pennsylvania, From etching by Stephen J. Ferris. “the CONNOISSEUR”—DOMINGO. and was supposed to encourage home talent. Unfortunately for native artists, some of the directors had made a collection of German pictures, and when the exhibition opened, it was found that these importations filled the line to the exclusion of American artists, whether Academicians or not. Edward decided that he had some privileges as a member, and one of them was to show his contempt for cheap foreign pictures and the collectors of them. Varnishing day came ; he had been invited to varnish, and as the committee did not specify the kind of var- ■s.-i AMER CAN ART AND ARTISTS. From water-color sketch by Paul Nimmo Moran. “ THE SOCIAL COLUMN.” From painting by Edward Moran. “ leif erickson's expedition to America in the year iooi.” AMERICAN ART AND ARTISTS. 31 nish to be used, Mr. Moran concluded to var¬ nish his pictures to suit himself. He boiled to¬ gether beer and bottled porter, adding dry light red until he had two quarts of an opaque liquid that was war¬ ranted to tint a canvas a beautiful red, without injuring the colors be¬ neath it. Taking his “ varnish ” and a ladder From painting by Edward Moran. “ NEW YORK, FROM THE BAY.” provided by the Academy, he went to each of his pictures, carefully obliterated them with the red, and climbed down to view his latest work with a sat¬ isfaction that was appalling to the by-standers, who thought him suddenly demented. The sixth picture was hung over an opening where the ladder would not go, so he took a pocket- knife and neatly cut the canvas from the frame. Of course, there was a bed¬ lam of indignation among the directors, but they decided the best way to punish the impudent artist was to let the blurred pictures hang throughout the exhi¬ bition, placarding them to the effect that the artist had deliber¬ ately defaced them after hanging. The daily papers took it up, arguing for or against the American pictures that had been skied : people flocked to see the cause of the commotion and to side with foreign or domes¬ tic art, and, after all, the ted pictures were From painting by Edward Moran. the feature of the “ RIDING OUT A GALE.” From painting by Annette Moran. “ A STATEN ISLAND STUDY.” From water-color sketch by Leon Moran. “the matador.” exhibition. The attendance was so large, the directors advertised to keep the exhibition open two weeks longer, but on what was to have been the closing day Edward Moran removed his pictures and let the directors continue the two weeks with the German views. The red canvases were laid on the studio floor, and with a bucket of water and a floor mop their faces were washed clean and bright, apparently none the worse for the unusual treatment. Matthew Baird, an art lover, whose patriotism and sense of justice had been aroused by the controversy, purchased the entire lot, rented prominent windows, and during the two weeks displayed them as “ expatriated pictures.” It was the best advertisement the artist 32 AMERICAN ART AND ARTISTS. ever had, and instead of being crushed by the action of the hanging committee, Moran came out triumphant, richer by far in fame and pocket than when he went into the contest. He had decided to leave Philadelphia, but before going wanted to show his good will toward the place. The government was asking help for the sufferers of the Franco-Prussian War. Moran gave an exhibition of all his pictures he could get together; got up the first illustrated catalogue printed in this country, drawing the reproductions on stone himself, and gave the proceeds of admission fee and catalogue sale to the fund, besides painting a special picture, called “The Relief From painting by Thomas Moran “a long island landscape.” Ship entering Havre,” which the Union League Club purchased for eight hundred dollars. Annette, the wife of Edward, was a Southern girl who had merely dabbled with paint tubes in boarding-school fashion before she met her husband. Now she is his severest critic and, he says, his ablest one. Some of her landscapes have been reproduced as studies for others, but of recent years she has been content as a home-keeper rather than as an artist. Percy and Leon, their sons, are the youngest painters of prominence in New York. They work together until it is almost impossible to even pronounce the names separately, and yet there is a striking individuality in the work of each. One delights in figures of modern ladies, and the other in last-century gentlemen. From painting by Edward Moran. “ LIFE-BOAT GOING TO THE RESCUE.” Both have made a study of early English, French, and American costumes, and are in such demand for historical work that they have little time for anything else. They are conscientious workers, never descending to fantastic catchpenny meth¬ ods to attract public favor, and with an exquisite use of color combine an unusual grace of motive. Thomas Moran is the landscape painter of the family, and he is the hardest- working one of the lot. Although not of robust build, his endurance is marvellous, and he may frequently be found in his studio from early morning until midnight. There is not a process of photography, lithographing, or etching, but he is famil¬ iar with it, and his experiments since i860 have been embodied, by request, in a collection of over four hundred pictures, prints, plates, and sketches, which will be exhibited at the Denver Art League as a complete history of the development of an American artist during the last thirty years. For his mastery of the processes, and his exact knowledge of cause and effect in nature, Thomas Moran has been dubbed the “ scientist-artist,” and his pictures of the Yellowstone are almost authori¬ tative on rock formations and waterways. He does not believe in the merely faithful copying of what the eye sees. For that reason he spends months at a time studying how the hills are builded and the valleys cut away, and then comes home, to paint from memory and the laws of nature, the pictures that have no equal in American landscape. Mary Nimmo Moran, who is one of the best women etchers in the country, never touched a brush to canvas until she married Thomas; but she found if they were to be congenial she must understand her husband’s pursuits. Under his guid¬ ance she took up drawing, water-color and oil, and the family, children and all, went off on sketching trips, working out of doors during the long summer months. When Thomas went West for three months’ roughing it among the Rockies, he 34 AMERICAN ART AND ARTISTS. coated six plates and suggested that his wife try her hand at etching while he was gone. It seemed utterly absurd to her to attempt it in the absence of her teacher, but as he had carefully explained the theory of the use of the point, the least she could do was to put it in practice. No indoor copying for her, though ; she took her plates right out of doors, made a little pre¬ liminary drawing on paper, and went to work. When the husband returned, he pronounced these plates to be funny-looking things, and two of them not worth putting under acid. The other four were bitten, and there was a good deal of Moran amusement over what the perpetrator was frankly informed were “jolly queer etch¬ ings.” She did not think much of them herself, but, strange to say, the Society of Painter- Etchers of New York decided them to be of great artistic merit, and on the strength of them elected the lady to membership. Then the same four were sent to the exhibition of Painter-Etchers of London, where they were all well hung, and the committee, supposing M. Nimmo Moran to be a man, voted him— or rather her — into membership with that august body — the first woman admitted to the charmed circle. Since then, Mrs. Moran has done about seventy plates, which have put her in the front rank of New York etchers. Thomas and Mary Nimmo are perhaps the most noted couple of the family, but their two daughters inherit the talent for music and not for art. The son Paul has both gifts to a generous degree, being a remarkably fine violinist, one of the best mandolinists in the city, and an artist as well. He has not had the life-long studio¬ training given his cousins, because his father was afraid of biassing his career, insisting that he would rather his son should be a good bricklayer from choice than a poor artist from influence. In obedience to the parental wish, Paul went about the world searching for an education and a vocation, but finally returned with the conviction that he would rather be a poverty-stricken artist, if need be, than make money in any other profession, and now father and son are work¬ ing side by side. Paul is essentially a painter of American subjects, believing there is ample opportunity for the native brush in the varying types of different sections. Peter Moran is the animal painter and etcher. Being the youngest of the original four, he followed the example of his elders, From water-color sketch by Percy Moran. “waiting for breakfast.” Front painting by Edward Moran. learning lithographing and engraving, but the studio of Edward and Thomas had more attrac¬ tion for him than the store, and he spent every spare moment making experiments with his brothers’ paints. He tried marines with Edward and landscapes with Tom, and soon became convinced that he would succeed in neither. Animals were undoubtedly his forte. He began the study of animal anatomy, and in the mean¬ time earned a living as a scene painter and as an actor of small parts with Mrs. John Drew in the Philadelphia theatre. When he had put by sufficient means for a trip to England, he went over to study the works of Landseer and Constable, with an occasional landscape as a background, and when he returned, received a medal at the Centennial Exhibition for his pict¬ ure, “ The Return of the Herd.” In those days etching was an entirely neglected art, and Peter’s collection of “ HENRY HUDSON.” fourteen was the only the American depart- in all the enthusiasm ing, few have been point than he, over going out with his many views of the he lived for several and Mexicans. He the Philadelphia vice-president of the of painting, etching, ' THE PATROL. one on exhibition in ment. Since then, of the revival of etch- more prolific with the two hundred plates signature, including extreme West, where years among Indians is now president of Society of Etchers, Art Club, and teacher and composition in the Woman’s Art School, keeping up the family reputation for industry. Peter Moran’s wife was one of his best students, but has always been reluctant to enter the public lists. She has done a large number of etchings, noticeable for boldness of line and picturesque effects, but it has been more to keep in touch with her husband than to acquire fame or fortune. Their son Charles, like a true Moran, began making pictures before he was out of his swaddling clothes, and bids fair to become one of the illustrators of the future. John Moran was the first, and for many years the only ar¬ tistic landscape photographer in America. He was sent by the government on the expe¬ dition to the Isthmus of Darien, and around the globe to Cape Town during the transit of Venus. The family bent was strong in him, however, and he developed into a landscape From painting by Edward Moran. painter aftei all. His pictures “shrimpers.” are rarely seen, because he is AMERICAN ART AND ARTISTS. 35 one of those delightfully impractical geniuses one reads about—he is in the world but not of it. His life is bound between book covers, and when he comes in contact with the outside existence, it is as a leaf torn from the binding, flutter¬ ing aimlessly in the wind. Of his two sons, Horace is a designer and Sidney an illustrator. There is one other member of the Moran family who deserves mention, because as a sister of the original four she brought into the family, by marriage, the best portrait painter and etcher in Philadelphia. Elizabeth Moran Ferris has done little herself with brush or pencil, but, as she once expressed it, she has “held the light for husband and son to work by, standing between them and the petty cares of life, that they might pursue their work unhampered.” Stephen J. Ferris, the husband, is equally well known for his portraits in oil or water color ; and etchings, both originals and reproductions. Gerome Ferris, the son, is an exceedingly good colorist, with the true artist soul. His figures are the daintiest creations imagi¬ nable, and his drawing is strong and free. Such is a brief outline of the working members of the Moran family. Known chiefly as manipulators of brush and pigment, they are, almost to an individual, practised and original illustrators. In this difficult and exacting branch of art not a few of the Morans have won their first laurels and earned their first dollars. Of the entire family, however, Thomas Moran is the most widely known and most versatile illustrator. Long years ago—in the fifties, to be definite—Thomas Moran, after a fashion of his own, necessarily crude and unsat¬ isfactory at that time, produced effects with metal plates and printing blocks that are to-day, in a more perfect form, in almost universal employment. Mr. Moran’s predilection in the graphic arts was—and, indeed, is now, unless mistake has been made—for etching and plain lithography. With the other members of the Moran clan, reproductive work has been confined for the most part to pen-and-ink drawing. From painting by Leon Moran. “ THE BACHELOR’S BREAKFAST.” Percy and Leon Moran have won great distinction as illustrators, the deftness of their execution and the daintiness of their themes making their work exceptionally attractive to publishers. What one has to consider in reviewing the achievements of this remarkable family of artists is not so much the vastness of its collective genius as the unceasing industry and enormous production of its individual members. In all the years that the Morans of one branch and another have engaged in artistic per¬ formance there has been no discoverable waning of either power or accomplish¬ ment on the part of any of them. With the passing of each year the oldest as well as the youngest of this gifted circle of relatives give indications of ripening knowledge and more extended skill. It is as if these Morans were a tribe of hunters who yearly went in quest of precious prey, each of the tribe betaking him¬ self or herself to a section of the land left unexplored, and all returning to a common rendezvous at a given time, tumbling their treasures before the delighted eyes of the public, and seeking for themselves so little credit for their pains, that many are led to forget the contented explorers in viewing the outcome of their intelligent exploration. But to cast off metaphor for lucid facts, let it be noted, in summing up the value of the Moran family to contemporary art, that whatever their failures, their shortcomings, or their fruitless ambitions, they were at no time guilty of insincerity or intolerance for the ways of others. To what extent this breadth of mental view has enabled them, one and all, to attain artistic honor and renown it is not for the writer to assert. That each one of them is deserving of whatever part of beneficent fortune has fallen to his or her lot, cannot be denied by those who know the common geniality, the fresh talent, and the honesty of effort which so strongly characterizes this group of blood-bonded artists. The history of the Moran family is to a great extent the history of American art. That the future aesthetic production of this country will also embrace a long line of Morans is not improbable, and if the Morans of the future are as gifted as those of the present their coming is to be earnestly hoped for. But, come what may, the work which bears the signature of any of the Morans will unquestionably be worthy of notice and have upon it the thumb-marks of talent. They are a rare company, are these Morans, and what they have done in the past, as well as what they are likely to do in time to come, will at least be individual, if not wholly remarkable. But what commendation could be greater? From etching by Emily Moran. “ WINDMILLS.” AMERICAN ART AND ARTISTS. 37 A DECORATIVE ILLUSTRATOR. By Perriton Maxwell. ( With original illustrations by George Wharton Edwards.) Some months less than thirty years ago there lived and frolicked in the little town of Fairhaven, Connecticut, a bright-eyed, brown-haired youngster who devel¬ oped, along with a remarkably robust appetite and an equally robust love of fun, a richly dowered fancy for decorating local and dog-houses with charcoal and in the of untutored boy art. happy, no longer exists, tion, his aptitude for ures, and his whole- humor still remain and the person of the man knows to-day as George lustrator, painter, and About the time that the awful discovery doors and curb-stones borhood of his home period offered a smooth for his budding art- THE STORM. and a decided penchant barn-doors, well-curbs, the aid of chalk or most approved style The boy, careless and but his brisk imagina- limning pleasing pict- some affection for flourish vigorously in whom the art world Wharton Edwards—il- writer. young Edwards made that there were no more in the immediate neigh- which had not at some and tempting medium istry, he tendered to those who would give him ear a complete confession of his innermost desire to wield the artist’s brush, live under a roof of glass, and wear a palette on his thumb. It was not very long after this open avowal of his chief ambition that there GvssifWmiai EuWARos CHARACTER SKETCH. began to appear in the magazines odd bits of illus¬ tration, sparkling, strengthful, and wholly new. These drawings gave birth to no little comment in circles of art, and speculation was fired by the query as to who this new man brandishing the name of Edwards could be, and from whence he hailed. Curiosity upon this point was soon appeased. The name of the new-comer appeared with pleasing fre¬ quency upon charming sketches in all the foremost periodicals of the day, and now—well, it is quite exceptional if one can pick up an important illus¬ trated magazine at random and fail to find between its covers at least one picture done in line or “ wash,” and signed by George Wharton Edwards. With the sprouting of his first mustache Mr. Edwards came to New York, bringing with him a shrivelled purse and a generous fund of hope for great artistic success. He made decorative designing his specialty at the outset, believing that in this department of practical aesthetics lay the pleasantest and most immediate monetary rewards. In this special line he displayed at an early day that rare good taste, that refined feeling for form beauty, and the same acute and subtle imagination which have all along distin¬ guished his work. The effect of this early practice in the department of the decorative has been unmis¬ takably exploited in every one of the artist’s serious productions. However irk¬ some may have been these early endeavors, the amount of good it has done Mr. Edwards in an artistic way is quite incalculable, and not to be regretted by those who discern and understand the best that is in his pic¬ torial output. To be sure, his style has changed per¬ ceptibly with the passing of theyears; there is less florid- ity and frillment now than in by-gone days, but none 38 AMERICAN ART AND ARTISTS. of his fellow-illustrators — or brushmen, for the matter of this—has surpassed him in the freshness of his fancy or the gracefulness of his execution. It was the good fortune of Mr. Edwards that he was not compelled to waste the valu¬ able hours of his youth in a foreign art-school. He would have gained but little from the meagre curric¬ ulum of the big Parisian or Munich ateliers. His touch might have become more bold, but then the rare quality of delicacy which we most admire in this man’s work would be absent. He handled the draughtsman’s tools by a sort of instinct, and by instinct learned to draw. He taught himself how to swim in the great and turbulent sea of art by first plunging into the deepest part of it. His courage and industry have enabled him to keep upon the surface almost from the start. It was a happy day when the youthful Edwards threw off the shackles of one publisher to work for the whole fraternity of book and magazine makers. The Artis/s, 1891 “a piece of news." latter were not slow to appreciate the products of his facile pencil. When assured of the sweets of success, he decided to be something of a painter as well as an illustrator of merit. Though to-day illustrative work is Mr. Edwards’ prime voca¬ tion, painting is to him something more than a mere matter of recreation. Year after year witnesses the completion of at least one notable canvas, to say nothing of a dozen or more breezy water-colors and an occasional pastel. The most pleas- “ early moonrise.” AMERICAN ART ing thing about Mr. Edwards’ monochromatic pieces is the dash he gets into them ; the deftness of his handling and the cunning of his conception, which tickle the fancy and delight the eye. In these accomplishments he reminds us to a certain extent of Louis Leloir, with something of the fruitful fantasy and rich grotesqueries of Dore’s earlier period. But in Mr. Edwards’ work is that which Leloir never owned, and that which Dor6 sought but could not attain—the force of feeling in the first; the knack of linear accuracy in the last. Mr. Edwards’ pictorial expression is that of the man who has something to say, and understands how to convey his message with the clearness of graphic speech and the precision of artistic statement. About ten years ago Mr. Edwards made an unconventional journey in search of the picturesque through Belgium, Holland, England, France, and Spain : a journey that inspired many clever illustrations and a score of brilliant short stories ; for be it known of those who are not informed in the matter, that Mr. Edwards is quite as ready and refreshing with his writer’s pen as with his artist’s brush and pencil. BRITTANY PEASANTS, ST. MALO.” AND ARTISTS. 39 ■ He has since spent three years in Holland and several summers in the less frequented parts of France, to the vast enrichment of his pri¬ vate portfolios and the pages of the periodicals. Among the good things of life that have fallen within the grasp of Mr. Edwards are a luxurious studio, an intense affection for his work, an amiable temperament, and a boxful of medals won by the merit of as many charming pictures. Though still a comparatively young: man, BRITTANY PEASANT. ’ 11 BRITTANY PEASANT.” he has turned out of hand much that an older artist might claim with pardonable pride. His art is his own. It remains for the future to reveal whether or not the indications which now point to an exceptionally brilliant career will be fulfilled in Mr. Edwards. To say that his accomplishments up to the present moment have been as notable as they have been praiseworthy does not carry with it the implication that Mr. Edwards has not in store for us numerous novel and brilliant picturements. The subjects selected by him are in the main simple in character, though often daring in composition and unique in treatment. But in mentally reviewing all his work I can recall nothing that is not in a cheerful vein ; and one owes much to the man who can cast a ray of sunshine from his brush. There is something more definite than mere ex¬ pectation—something, indeed, that is tantamount to a con¬ viction of greater things to come—springing from an ex¬ amination of Mr. Edwards’ more notable feats in black and white. An illustrator who has the boon of an exuberant imagination and the acquired faculty of abounding artistic skill is lifted much above his professional fellows even in these days of wide-spread tal¬ ent and manifold endeavors, 40 AMERICAN ART AND ARTISTS. and such is the present status of George Wharton Edwards in the thriving kingdom of native art. To men of his mould one may confidently turn for a clear and concise exposition of the best that exists at the moment in American illustration. It has often been feared, none the less, by those who are at the pains to closely study and analyze the handicraft of Mr. Edwards, that a talent so diversified as is his may event¬ ually lead him from whatever strength of personality he now possesses ; that the very charm of his drawings — this charm being definable as unlikeness and novelty of execution—may prove their ultimate unacceptability. While it might be an easy task for Mr. Edwards to unwittingly demolish himself by his own versatility, such a fate is quite unlikely to befall him now, for he has shown in his work of late a jealous regard for certain peculiarities of style denoting clearly his recognition of a possible calamity. The sketches which form an accompaniment to these remarks very forcibly demonstrate Edwards’ artistry. While taining similar results do gest the work of others, ance in their general needs look for Mr. Ed- himself that this and that The perfect ease with his effect in the sketch of the pleasing chic of the Qg *‘*'wteum'm the mobile quality of Mr. his many methods of ob- not in any instance sug- there is such a wide vari- appearance that one must wards’ signature to assure drawing are from his hand, which the artist has secured a fisher boy on page 85 ; character notes in his Brit- tany peasants on page 90, and the fine decorative quality of his painting “ Early Moonrise,” repro¬ duced on page 87, declare their maker a man of singular artistic acumen. It would be difficult indeed to get greater expression with slighter effort than Mr. Edwards has done with a few swift pen strokes in his little sketch of “ Unc’ Remus.” In the “Old Settler” the character is much more laboriously obtained, and the whole effect less spontaneous and forceful, but the truth of nature is faithfully recorded. Based on the actualities of nature, Mr. Edwards builds his pictorial themes as Aldrich, Dobson, and Swinburne build their rhymes — fusing with facts that subtle something which, for lack of terms more comprehensive, we call the poetic instinct or a feeling for the finer harmonies of art. No happier union in art can be imagined than that which comes about at long intervals between fancy and fact ; it is like the marriage of Adonis and the grocer’s daughter on the next block. After all, one can only take what is put forth, and if an artist has done his work with some show of sincerity, he is worthy of the highest praise. A conscientious person is bound to accomplish many creditable things, and when with conscience an artist mixes uncommon natural gifts he befits himself for the most coveted places of his profession. To George Wharton Edwards must be ten¬ dered the praise of those who love art for its sake as well as for its utility. He has grasped the lessons, severe and inspiring, taught by art, and has welded to such knowledge the information vouchsafed those only who have battled on the field of commercial affairs. In a phrase, Mr. Edwards has in him those laudable qualities which, rightly cultivated, produce great artists who occasionally are also great men. The commendable care with which Mr. Edwards turns out of hand his most trifling, as well as his most ambitious picturements, is a fine lesson to tyros. It is not enough for him to paint an important picture with a lavishment of his greatest skill ; he is entirely unsatisfied unless he has put in his minor efforts the same consideration, the same solicitude for the general effect of the finished production. Not by this, however, do I mean that his work is labored and overwrought, for the contrary is true; and in the chic and airy execution of both his paintings and illustrations lies his main power. AMERICAN ART AND ARTISTS. 41 AN ALL AROUND ARTIST. By F. Hopkinson Smith. ( With. original illustrations by Charles S. Reinhart.') The successful illustrator of to-day must be a man of pronounced originality of thought. He must not only see clearly, interpret unerringly, and express forci¬ bly the subject matter of the author, but his own personality must be strong enough and pro¬ nounced enough to make his work individual, if not wholly unique. This personality may be a disagreeable personality, either upon the ground of good taste, morality, or refinement, but it will never become commonplace. A coarse-minded man will invariably depict his women with a touch of allurement hidden somewhere beneath their eye¬ lids or corsage. The religious devo¬ tee will outline his heroine in serene and lofty pose, and the purely clas¬ sical, intellectual student will give her the brow of Diana and the poise and coldness of a Greek goddess. Between every touch of each man’s brush one will read something of the artist’s inner self. The painter, therefore, who has the purest and best ideals of life is safest to be entrusted with the work of an equally pure and high-minded author : it would be difficult to imag¬ ine Ary Scheffer illustrating Zola’s “ Nana,” or Vibert making serious studies of the early martyrs. In this connection the illustrator is to a certain extent a critic, or, to be more exact, an essayist. One false stroke un¬ settles the read¬ er’s mind, and destroys the writ¬ er’s conception. The responsibility then becomes a grave one ; public, publisher, and author being interested in a perfect harmony of thought and interpretation between the pen of the writer and the brush of the draughtsman. Next to the equipment of heart comes the equipment of mind. An all around illustrator, to be perfect in his art, must be a historian, must know costumes and furni¬ ture, arms, implements Jjf p and interiors, architecture, topography of the sev- eral localities, habits of the “ MOORISH WATER-WHEEL, VALENCIA.” AMERICAN ART AND ARTISTS. people and their economies of life. He must, at the same time, be thoroughly conversant with all the forms and requirements of the society immediately about him. He must be a man of the world, know the clubs, the caf