figure-heads, plastic art, unlike painting, seems to have been hardly
known in the United States. And so little sign was there of its dawn
that John Trumbull declared to Frazee, as late as 1816, that sculpture
"would not be wanted here for a century." But even then the careful
observer might have noticed indications that a genius for glyptic art
was awakening in the new republic. In the early part of the last century
Deacon Drowne made a vane for Faneuil Hall, and one for the Province
House, in Boston, which appear to have gained him great repute in his
day in New England. The latter work, although turning with the wind on
an iron spindle, was a life-size statue of an Indian sachem holding a
bow and arrow in the act of aiming. It was hollow, and of copper, and
would seem, from the impression it made, to have been a work of some
merit. Somewhat later, Patience Wright, of Bordentown, New Jersey,
displayed considerable cleverness in modelling miniature wax heads in
relief, and by this process succeeded in making likenesses of Washington
and Franklin, among the celebrities of her time. William Rush, who was
born some twenty years before the Revolution, had also shown already
that even in ship-carving the sculptor may find scope for fancy and
skill, as Matthew Pratt, in the previous generation, had proved that
even in the painting of signs genius can find vent for its inspirations.
Rush was undoubtedly a man of genius; for, although all the art
education he ever had was confined to an apprenticeship with a
ship-carver, his figure-heads of Indians or naval heroes added a
singular merit to the beauty of the merchant marine which first carried
our flag to the farthest seas, and the men-of-war that wrested victory
in so many a hard-fought battle. Hush worked only in wood or clay; but
original strength and talent, which under better circumstances might
have achieved greater results, are evident in some of his portrait
busts, and in a statue of a nymph at Fairmount. A bust of himself,
carved out of a block of pine, is remarkable for a realistic force and
character that entitle it to a permanent place in the records of
American sculpture.
Sculpture, however, was much more backward in gaining a foothold in the
country than the sister arts; for it was not until 1824 that the first
portrait in marble by a native was executed--that of John Wells, by John
Frazee, a stone-cutter, whose sole art education was obtained during an
apprenticeship in a yard where rude monumental work was turned out for
the bleak cemeteries in use before such sumptuous retreats as Greenwood
and Mount Auburn were planned. There was a feeling after the ideal in
the nature of this unassisted artist which enabled him to be potential
in influencing younger artists; while his opportunities were unfavorable
to the just development of his own abilities.
Rush began to model in clay in 1789, and at that time not one of the
artists who have since given celebrity to our native sculpture had seen
the light. Frazee was born in 1790; and Hezekiah Augur, of New Haven, in
1791. The latter was engaged in the grocery trade, and failing in that,
took up modelling and wood-carving, without any guide except his natural
instincts. Like many of our first sculptors, his efforts are interesting
rather as evidences of what talent entirely uninstructed and untrained
can accomplish, than for any intrinsic value in his work. Many of the
artists who have succeeded him have also begun life in some trade or
profession altogether at variance with the art to which they afterward
consecrated their lives.
It was not till the year 1805, long after Copley, West, Malbone,
Allston, and Stuart had demonstrated our capacity for pictorial art,
that the genius of the country seemed inclined to allow us a plastic art
of our own. In that year Hiram Powers was born, one of the best known
sculptors of the century. The same year witnessed the birth of Horatio
Greenough. In the remote wilds of Kentucky, still harried by the
Indians, Hart was born in 1810; and Clevenger, Crawford, and Mills
followed in 1812, 1813, and 1815--all artists of note, even if of
unequal merits, and important as pioneers in the art rather than the
creators of a great school of sculpture. Thus we see that without any
apparent previous preparation a strong impulse toward glyptic art and
the men to direct and give it strength simultaneously sprung up in the
land. When one considers the disadvantages under which they labored, and
that, so far as can be known, they were not even aided by any heredity
of genius in this direction, criticism is tempered by surprise that
they achieved the results they did, and that two of them at
least--Powers and Crawford--succeeded in winning for themselves a
European renown which made them almost the peers of some of the leading
foreign sculptors of the age, who were born amidst the trophies of
classic and Renaissance art.
[Illustration: "COLUMBUS BEFORE THE COUNCIL."--[FROM THE BRONZE DOOR OF
THE CAPITOL AT WASHINGTON.--RANDOLPH ROGERS.]]
Hiram Powers must always be assigned a commanding position in our
Western art, even by those who are not enthusiastic admirers of his
works. A farmer's boy of the Green Mountains, he early exchanged Vermont
for the bustling streets of Cincinnati, where an ampler scope was
offered to the aspiring energies of the founder of American sculpture.
Like many of our sculptors, a turn for mechanics, characteristic of the
inventive mind of the people, was combined in him with a capacity for
art, and this, which at first found vent in a study of the inventions of
the time, enabled him in maturer life to facilitate the means of art
expression by valuable inventions. Palmer and several other American
sculptors have also aided the art in a similar way. From modelling in
wax, which aroused great local interest, young Powers proceeded to
modelling in plaster, under the tuition of a German artist resident in
Cincinnati, and, aided by the generous patronage of Mr. Longworth--to
whose liberality toward our artists American art is greatly indebted--he
soon received numerous commissions for portrait busts of some of our
most notable public men, such as Webster, Jackson, Marshall, and
Calhoun. Notwithstanding his lack of training and art associations,
Powers executed some of these portraits with a vigor worthy of the
subjects, and scarcely equalled by any of his subsequent work.
In 1837 Powers decided to go to Italy, whither Greenough had already
preceded him, led thither, like many since, by superior art advantages
and economical reasons, which still sway our sculptors at a time when it
would seem that it would be more profitable, so far as native art is
concerned, for them to remain here. Several of our sculptors have
acknowledged to the writer that the time has come for their art to grow
up under the home influences which are to regulate the art of the
future, but that the question of economy forces them to live in Florence
and Rome.
Residing in Florence until his death, Powers devoted his long career to
the creation of many works of high finish, and occasionally of a merit
comparing well with the works of an age whose plastic arts were
conventional. Who has not seen the famous "Greek Slave," inspired by the
enthusiasm for the Greeks struggling with the Turk for existence? The
"Penseroso," "Fisher Boy," and "Proserpine" are also among the most
pleasing works of this artist. The "California," a nude, symbolical
female figure, is less satisfactory in conception, and is also open to
criticism as to its proportions. In these works we see expressed the
thoughts of an artist skilled in the technical requirements of the art,
and moved by a lofty ideal, but marked by tender sentiment rather than
force, and suggesting sometimes a dryness of style and a coldness or
reticence of emotion inherited from the undemonstrative people of New
England, as if when the artist was executing them the stern genius of
Puritanism, jealous of the voluptuous or the passionate in art, had
stood Mentor-like at his side and said, "There, that will do; beware
lest your love of beauty lead you to forget that you are an American
citizen, to whom duty, principle, example, are the watchwords of life."
But sometimes genius proved superior to tradition even with Powers, as
when he composed the two great ideal statues of Eve before and after the
fall. By these noble works, inspired by true, untrammelled artistic
feeling--which we must consider his best ideal compositions--he earned a
rank very near to that of Gibson and Canova, and rendered his art worthy
of lasting remembrance.
[Illustration: "THE GHOST IN HAMLET."--[THOMAS R. GOULD.]]
The art of Powers was best exemplified in his portrait busts. His
imagination was not prolific or active, as one may infer from the
following expressions of his own: "I could never satisfy myself with an
ideal in a hurry. The human form is infinite. It is the image of God. I
have found that, do my best, there was always a _better_ in nature. Once
knowing this, I have hesitated and sought to find it, and this is the
way to fame. One may fail with all his care and labor, but it is the
only way. Not they who have produced the most, but they who have done
the best, stand foremost in the end. I never felt that I had the power
to charge a hundred statues. I exhaust myself on a few. This accounts
for the fact that I found it necessary to give nearly a year's time, in
all, to the model of your statue of 'Paradise Lost.'"
The early educational advantages of Horatio Greenough were superior to
those of Powers; and as one of the first in our country to assert
himself in marble, he won a name which we are reluctantly obliged to
consider in excess of his merits as an artist. He impresses one as a man
of intellectual force and culture, but without any special calling to
sculpture. The work by which he will be known the longest is the Bunker
Hill Monument, whose stately proportions he designed. Greenough executed
a number of vigorous and striking busts, like those of Lafayette and
Fenimore Cooper, which deserve favorable mention. But in venturing after
ideal expression he cannot be said to have accomplished satisfactory
results. The elaborate group called "The Rescue," on the portico of the
Capitol at Washington, is ambitious, but leaves one to regret that so
prominent a position could not have been more appropriately decorated.
Few statues have ever given rise to more conflicting criticisms than
Greenough's "Washington" in the grounds of the Capitol. Colossal in size
and on a massive throne, seated half nude and holding out a Roman sword
in his left hand, some one has jocularly observed that the august hero
of the republic seems to say, "Here is my sword; my clothes are in the
Patent-office yonder." It certainly seems an absurdity in this age to
represent so recent a character in a garb in which he was so rarely seen
by the public, or so closely and incongruously to imitate the style of
the antique. Benjamin West showed more originality and courage when, in
the last century, and in defiance of the opinion of such men as Sir
Joshua Reynolds, he dared to break loose from the conventional, and
created a revolution in historical art by permitting General Wolfe to
die in the clothes in which he went to battle. But in justice to
Greenough, whose statue is in some respects meritorious and important,
especially in the bass-reliefs on the elegant chair, it should be said
that he never designed to have this statue placed in its present
position, but under the dome of the Rotunda, where it would undoubtedly
be far more impressive, and being sheltered from the winter snows, its
nudity would be less incongruous.
[Illustration: GEORGE WASHINGTON.--[J. Q. A. WARD.]]
Last year a sculptor died at Florence who was born in Kentucky nearly
seventy years ago. His education was confined to three months in a
district school, and his first occupation was chimney-building. James
Hart, although successful in portraiture, was also an idealist, who,
after settling in Italy, produced numerous pleasing works, like his
"Angelina" and "Woman Triumphant." There is a delicate, winning sense of
beauty and a refined emotional tendency in his art, which pleases while
it fails to master us, because it was a facile fancy rather than a lofty
imagination that conceived his creations.
Shobal V. Clevenger, a stone-cutter of Ohio, presents another instance
of the sudden yearning toward the plastic art which early in the century
sought vent in various parts of the country. Like so many others, he
turned his face to Italy to find the knowledge which it was impossible
for his native land to give him at that time. The nation owes a debt of
gratitude to him, as to several of our early sculptors, for many
truthfully realistic portraits of our leading statesmen and poets.
In point of date as well as in ability we find that Thomas Crawford, a
native of New York State, was one of the first of our sculptors. If
Powers was remarkable for the refinement of his work, in the sculpture
of Crawford we find a certain grandiose style not too common in our art,
and at the same time so harmoniously rendered as to avoid exaggeration.
Crawford occupies among our sculptors a position corresponding to that
of Allston among our early painters. There is a classic majesty about
his works, a sustained grandeur that is warmed by a sympathetic nature,
and brought within the range of the throes and aspirations of this
tumultuous century. He had what most of our sculptors have
lacked--genius. Were he alive to-day, when a new order of sculpture is
bursting its bonds, he would have few peers. Among his most important
works are the impressive equestrian statue of Washington at Richmond,
and the colossal statue of Beethoven in the Music Hall at Boston. They
were cast in the foundries of Müller at Munich, and were hailed by all,
artists and sovereign alike, with a dramatic enthusiasm which speaks
eloquently for the estimate placed upon them in one of the most notable
art tribunals of Europe.
The bronze door of the Capitol at Washington, containing panel groups
illustrative of the American Revolution, has been considered by some to
be a masterpiece of Crawford, and it certainly indicates imagination and
technical skill unusual among us until recently; but the statue of
Orpheus descending into Tartarus in search of his wife Eurydice seems,
on the whole, to be the most symmetrical and just representative work of
this great sculptor. His stately and graceful statue of "Liberty" on the
dome of the Capitol is also entitled to high consideration, but one can
hardly think of it without indignation, for certainly nothing was ever
devised quite so absurd as to create a work of imagination like this,
and then to perch it up in the air three hundred feet above the ground,
where it is a mere shapeless spot against the sky, its beauty almost as
completely snatched away from human ken as if it were buried as far
beneath the surface of the earth.
[Illustration: "MEDEA."--[WILLIAM WETMORE STORY.]]
The art of the Capitol at Washington presents, indeed, a most
extraordinary farrago of excellence and eccentricity and ignorance. Some
of the alto-relievos in the Rotunda are of such exceptional uncouthness
that one is astounded to think that some of the men are still living who
permitted them to be placed there. They might easily be passed off for
rude Aztec relics. The Sculpture Hall adjoining displays the same
amazing incongruity. Its existence suggests a dim perception in the
builders that at some future time we should need a national gallery of
statuary; while the inequality in the merit of the sculptures already
placed there would indicate that they had been chosen entirely by lot
rather than by deliberate selection. Not until a permanent national art
commission like that of France is appointed can we hope, in the present
unæsthetic condition of Congress, to have such art collected at the
national capital as will be entirely creditable to the country. Such a
commission, owing to the frailty of human nature, might perhaps show
partiality at times toward a favorite school; but what it did admit
would at least be of a higher average merit, and mere tyros in art would
have no chance to storm the public Treasury by the sheer force of
lobbying.
[Illustration: "THE PROMISED LAND."--[FRANKLIN SIMMONS.]]
It is to the then absolute ignorance of art on the part of the people
that we owe the equestrian statues of Clark Mills--a contemporary of
Crawford--of which the most noted is probably the statue of General
Jackson opposite the White House, and the one of George Washington, for
which he received $50,000. The former is chiefly notable for the
mechanical dexterity which so balanced the weights that the prancing
steed is actually able to stand in that position without other support
than its own ponderosity. That Mr. Mills has ability is unquestioned,
for it is said that before ever he had seen a statue he was able to take
a portrait bust of Calhoun which is pronounced a striking likeness; but
it is dexterity and talent rather than genius which he possesses. There
is little evidence of art feeling in his works, and the prominence that
has been given to them is a just cause of regret to the lover of art.
It is pleasant among so much poor art to find here and there works like
those of Crawford, Ward, Brown, Randolph Rogers, and Ball, which
indicate an earnest striving after a lofty art ideal. Henry K. Browne,
one of our earliest sculptors, will probably be best known by his two
equestrian statues--of General Washington, in Union Square, New York,
and General Scott, at the capital. It is extremely difficult to tell
what it is which makes such monuments so rarely satisfactory. If the
horse is anatomically correct, it is, perhaps, ungraceful; or if
pleasing in that respect, then the horse-fancier comes along, who tells
you that it cannot be justly admired, for it is incorrect in the
details. Between these two objections one is often at a loss to give an
opinion; and in point of fact the famous statue of Colleoni by
Verrochio, made in the Middle Ages, seems thus far to be almost the only
wholly acceptable equestrian work since the classic times, so thoroughly
does it seem in its firm, massive, yet energetic lines to embody the
description of the war-horse given in the Book of Job, and so nobly does
his mailed rider bestride him. The cause of the difficulty appears to be
the same as in marine painting. To paint a ship one should love it
intensely, and if he does, he is likely to comprehend the action; to
design a horse in motion one should love horses, and in such case the
study of them begins instinctively in childhood. But most sculptors have
no natural equine bias, and, after accepting a commission for an
equestrian statue, they begin to study the horse for the purpose of
information, rather than from sympathetic, enthusiastic feeling.
[Illustration: "LATONA AND HER INFANTS."--[W. H. RINEHART.]]
Mr. Browne has struggled with these difficulties with very creditable
success. Neither of the statues mentioned above gives complete
satisfaction, but they are doubtless among the best yet exhibited in our
country. That of Scott represents the finest horse, and very graceful
and interesting it is, although the proportions are rather those of an
Arab steed than of an American war-horse; while that of Washington is
the most spirited and attractive. It is heroic and impressive in its
general effect. This artist, who still resides at Newburgh, enjoying a
green old age after a successful career, has accomplished much ideal
work, like the pleasing statue of "Ruth," and has shown a fine artistic
feeling in his conceptions, although hardly entitled to a foremost rank
in this branch of the art.
Thomas Ball, who was originally a portrait-painter, and who continues to
adorn our public squares with meritorious sculptures, is another artist
to whom we are indebted for one of the most spirited and correct
equestrian statues in the country. We refer to his "Washington," in the
Public Garden in Boston. Pleasing when regarded artistically, cavalrymen
also like it for its truth to nature. The group called "Emancipation,"
in Lincoln Park, at Washington, is also by Mr. Ball.
An equestrian statue that is destined to occupy a high position in our
native art is that of General Thomas, by J. Q. A. Ward. It is of
colossal size, and has been cast in bronze at Philadelphia. There is a
force in the action, an originality in the pose, a justness in the
proportions of both horse and rider, that render it exceptionally
excellent. In Mr. Ward we see one of the most vigorous and individual
sculptors of the age. As an influence in our art his example is of great
importance, because while placing at its true value the good that may be
obtained by familiarity with the models of classic art, whether by the
study of casts at home or abroad, he recognizes the basal principle of
all true art--that its originating force must proceed from within, and
that culture can only supplement, but cannot supply the want of, genius
in the artist or the people. And thus, while thoroughly conversant with
foreign and antique art, Mr. Ward has worked at home, and drawn the
sources of his inspiration from native influences. He has a mind
overflowing with resources; his fancy is never still; he is ever
delighting to sketch in clay, if the term may be so used. Many are
familiar with the noble statue of Shakspeare and the "Indian Hunter" in
the Central Park. The latter, although not in all respects anatomically
correct, is in spirit and design one of the most notable works produced
by American plastic art. But the bronze statue of Washington recently
set up at Newburyport is, perhaps, the best existing specimen of Mr.
Ward's skill. The subject is not a new one; in fact, it has been treated
so many hundred times in one form or another that especial originality
was needed to render it again with any degree of freshness and interest.
But the effort has been crowned with success. There is in this statue,
which is of colossal size, a sustained majesty, dignity, and repose, and
a harmony of design rarely attained in modern sculpture.
Among the foremost of American sculptors in point of native ability we
must accord a place to Benjamin Paul Akers, of Portland. He was indeed a
man of genius, of a finely organized temperament; but he died before the
maturity of his powers, ere he was able to achieve little more than a
promise of immortality. His "Pearl Diver," which is indeed an exquisite
creation, original, and tenderly beautiful, represents a youth whose
corpse the tide has washed on the rocks, where it lies wrapped by the
sea-weed, and tranquil in the repose of death. The anatomy and
composition of this work are evidently the offspring of a
finely-organized mind well grounded in the principles of his art, and
inspired by tender sympathies and a strongly creative imagination; and
his "St. Elizabeth" is also a lovely piece of sculpture. The noble ideal
bust of Milton, and the "Pearl Diver," are grandly described by
Hawthorne in the "Marble Faun." The admirable description of Kenyon, the
young sculptor mentioned in that weird romance, is intended for a
likeness of Akers.
Edward S. Bartholomew, of Connecticut, who died in his thirty-sixth
year, was another of our most gifted sculptors. There was an affluence
of fancy in his art, rare in our sculpture, which needed pruning rather
than urging by foreign study. Naturally his works are unequal in merit;
but the "Eve Repentant," "Ganymede," and "Hagar and Ishmael" will long
perpetuate his fame. It is a noteworthy circumstance that Bartholomew
was totally color-blind. This, in the opinion of many, is no
disqualification in a sculptor; but some sculptors not only think
otherwise, but are also conscious of a sense of color when creating a
work.
[Illustration: "ZENOBIA."--[HARRIET HOSMER.]]
[Illustration: "EVENING."--[E. D. PALMER.]]