Commercial Casts in the Studio
A visitor to Daniel Chester French’s studio might, at first glance, assume that all the works adorning the shelves and walls were created and executed by the sculptor. In fact, French acquired many of the objects from the Boston company PP Caproni & Brother, manufacturers of plaster reproductions of classical and contemporary sculpture. Caproni casts were a popular and important educational tool, and many sculptors used them as aids for their own work. The casts served a variety of purposes and enabled artists to learn about bodily proportions, the play of light and shadow upon an object, and the ways in which various gestures and expressions can be manipulated. Many casts are visible in period photograph of French’s studio; some have since been moved or removed, others still hang in the very same locations.
Casts could also serve decorative purposes, as they were less expensive and more readily available than original works in marble and bronze. For example, a cast of Renaissance sculptor Andrea del Verrochio’s Angel with Dolphin graced the south porch and can be seen a number of photographs. In the photograph below, the cast rests upon the porch balustrade at the far left. The image at the far right is taken from page 11 of the 1911 Catalogue of Caproni Casts. It is likely that French had seen the original sculpture at the Palazzo Vecchio (see below) during his time in Florence in the mid 1870s.
Musical trio on the porch, Evelyn Beatrice Longman's wedding (courtesy of Chapin Library, Williams College, Gift of the National Trust for Historic Preservation/Chesterwood, a National Trust Historic Site, Stockbridge, Massachusetts); cast of Angel/Cherub with Dolphin at far left
Cherub with Dolphin, by Andrea del Verrochio, 1911 Catalogue of P.P. Caproni and Brother
Andrea del Verrochio, Angel with Dolphin, Palazzo Vecchio, Florence
At left is a photograph of the cast of Bacchante, from the Capitoline Museum in Rome, which hangs, in the studio’s east entryway. French colored the background and tinted the figure. At right is a photograph of the cast from page 103 of the 1911 Catalogue of Caproni Casts. It is possible that this cast hung outdoors, but the exact site has not yet been determined. If the cast hung outdoors or in its present location during the time in which French worked at Chesterwood, then the object probably served entirely decorative purposes, as it would be far removed from the working space of the studio.
Cast of Bacchante, photograph by Dana Pilson
Bacchante, 1911 Catalogue of P.P. Caproni and Brother
An image of the original Bacchante in the Capitoline Museum in Rome can be seen here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/fripplett/3707599977/
The reveling Bacchante is a recurring theme in French’s studio. It is interesting that this female follower of Bacchus, god of wine and intoxication, is the first work of art one encounters when entering the studio through the east door. And this Bacchante would have inhabited the same building as the Greek mask of Dionysus, god of the grape harvest, winemaking and wine, discussed in the previous post. It makes me wonder which of the two doors French used when he was heading to the studio to sculpt, and which of the two doors he and his friends and family used to enter the studio for events such as parties, dinners, concerts, and theatricals. (The east door is closest to the main house, so it is possibly the entrance more commonly used.) Bacchante, painted in lively colors and suggestive of the revelry of Ancient Rome, could certainly set a lively tone for convivial merrymaking.
Some of the casts that were in French’s studio remain in situ, such as the cast of a Head of Madonna by the Italian Renaissance sculptor Desiderio de Settignano. Its location beneath the shelf at the southeast corner of the studio is documented in many period photographs. It is possible that French saw the original work in the Church of Santa Croce during his sojourn in Florence in the 1870s.
Plaster cast, Head of Madonna by Desiderio da Settignano, photograph by Dana Pilson
Head of Madonna, 1911 Catalogue of P.P. Caproni and Brother
Virgin and Child, by Desiderio de Settignano, Church of Santa Croce, Florence
There are many other commercial casts in the studio: a plaque with a lion holding a shield, numerous Renaissance portrait medallions, a large architectural bracket, an Egyptian sphinx, and Houdon’s bust of George Washington. Many are illustrated in the Caproni catalogue. The casts were instructive: the sphinx probably aided French as he modeled the enigmatic figure in the background of the Milmore Memorial. Once French had finished the work, however, he did not toss the assisting cast. The casts cost enough money and were of good enough quality that the frugal sculptor kept them around long after their usefulness had ended.
Milmore Memorial, The Metropolitan Museum of Art
Some casts are no longer in the studio, and their location remains a mystery. The cast of a “Negro Head” can be seen at the lower left of this detail from a 1922 photograph of French’s studio. It was probably purchased from Caproni, costing cost 50 cents in 1911. It is possible the cast is in storage, or perhaps it was broken or destroyed. Many of the other Caproni casts of heads and animals still hang on the studio wall.
A detail of the East wall of French's studio, 1922 (courtesy of Chapin Library, Williams College, Gift of the National Trust for Historic Preservation/Chesterwood, a National Trust Historic Site, Stockbridge, Massachusetts)
Negro Head, 1911 Catalogue of P.P. Caproni and Brother
As late at July 17, 1930, approximately a year before his death, French ordered a cast of a female torso from the Caproni cast company. Even at the end of a long career, French was still using plaster casts to aid him in his artistic process. By 1930, he had begun work on Andromeda, and this cast would allow him to study the female nude in a way that he might not have been able to do with a live model.
Caproni cast, female torso, from life, 1911 Catalogue of P.P. Caproni and Brother
There were many more plaster casts in the studio, too numerous to include here. Some continue to inhabit their original locations upon shelves or the wall, some are in the storage facility, and others may have been given away, brought to the New York studio, or tossed. While these casts were not sculpted by French, they allow us a conduit into his artistic processes as well as his personal decorating aesthetic.
A Mysterious Greek Mask
In this post, I will focus on a single object that caught my eye while going through historic photographs of Daniel Chester French’s Chesterwood studio: a mysterious Greek theater mask. Here, in a 1913 photograph of French working on the Longfellow monument, the mask hangs on the south wall of the studio, above the framed set of equestrian monuments. (The strange model at the left, clad in fabric and facing backwards, is French’s “lay figure”—an artist’s jointed model of the human body.)
French at work on the Longfellow Memorial, 1913
In this 1923 photograph of the George Robert White Memorial, also known as Casting Bread Upon the Waters (see below), the mask has been moved slightly to the right, to a location on the vertical beam. It is unclear why the mask was moved, as it doesn’t appear that any object took its place above the framed prints of equestrian monuments. The nail upon which the mask hung is still in the beam today.
Casting Bread Upon the Waters, 1923
In this photograph of In Flanders Fields from 1924, the mask is in the same location by the door, and now a round ball or architectural element hangs beneath it. A close-up of the mask is at right—notice the finely delineated curls of hair, the sharply outlined lips, and pained expression.
In Flanders Fields, 1925
the Greek mask
Margaret French Cresson (the sculptor’s daughter), mentions in a 1970s interview that at one point the mask hung from a nail in the base of the model for the equestrian statue, General Charles Devens. I have not come across any photographs of the mask in this location, but there is indeed a nail in the Devens base from which it might have hung.
Many questions arise: How did French acquire the mask? Is it an original Greek artifact or a more modern reproduction? It is not included in the 1911 Caproni Catalog of Plaster Reproductions that is currently available on-line, but perhaps he obtained it from another source. (See http://www.giustgallery.com/history/historic-catalogs.php for historic Caproni catalogs.) I was so intrigued that I consulted a professor of ancient Greek art, but even he was unable to offer any further information about the mask.
I was delighted to come across this image, seen below left, on a playwright’s website. The drawing appears to be of the very same mask, down to the surprised expression, the wavy curls, and the pointed shape of the head. The owner of the website had copied the drawing from a Dover publication, and after a bit of hunting around, I was able to find the image within The Styles of Ornament by Alexander Speltz. The first German edition was published in 1904, with an English edition published in the United States in 1906, so it is possible that French may have owned a copy of this popular volume.
Greek mask
"Theatre masks for men and women," from Alexander Speltz,The Styles of Ornament, (NY: Dover Publications, Inc., 1959), p. 64
Given the expression on the face, I had been assuming that the mask was a Greek “tragedy” mask. Some further research indicates, however, that it is probably a “mask of Dionysus,” the Greek god of ecstasy and wine. This leads to other conjectures, some perhaps a bit far-fetched. Was the mask placed in the studio to oversee the bacchanalian late-night parties that took place there? Or was it employed in the theatricals that were performed in the studio? There are numerous masks of Dionysus in various museums that are similar to the one from French’s studio. A group of mask-like objects entered the collection of The Metropolitan Museum of Art in the 1920s, during French’s tenure on the Board of Directors. French’s ownership of the bronze mask, however, pre-dates the acquisition of these artifacts. Below is an image of a Roman mask from the 2nd Century AD, found in the Fayum region of Egypt and now in the Met’s collection.
Theatrical Mask for Offering, Roman, 2nd Century AD, faience, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Purchase, Edward S. Harkness Gift, 1926, 26.7.1021
Link to the object record: http://www.metmuseum.org/Collections/search-the-collections/100004790?rpp=20&pg=1&ft=mask+dionysus&pos=2
French’s Greek mask is currently housed in Chesterwood’s storage facility. It appears to be a plaster cast, painted to emulate perhaps Egyptian faience. It was cracked in many places and too delicate to handle, so I was unable to examine it for clues as to its origin. As the mask is not in good condition, perhaps a replica or photographic image of it will return to one of the locations within the studio as part of the greater reinterpretation project. I still hope to uncover the origin, purpose, and meaning of this enigmatic object.
Mask in Chesterwood storage
Portrait of the Sculptor
Portrait of French by John C. Johansen
Sky, from the Samuel F. Dupont Memorial Fountain, Washington, DC
“Make portraits of people in typical, familiar poses, being sure above all to give their faces the same kind of expression as their bodies.” – Edgar Degas
This portrait of Daniel Chester French, by the Danish-American artist John C. Johansen hangs in the Chesterwood studio reception room. (See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Christen_Johansen for more information about Johansen.) Dated 1926, the portrait shows French handsomely dressed in a jacket and tie, standing in front of a plaster reproduction or working model of Sky, from the Samuel Francis DuPont Memorial Fountain in Washington, D.C., which had been dedicated May 17, 1921. Reminiscent of French’s ethereal figure of “Victory” of the Melvin Memorial, “Sky” holds the earth in her left hand and is enfolded within a canopy of stars. In the Johansen portrait, her face is obscured, and bright light falls upon her thigh, creating a sharp contrast to French in his dark jacket.
Portrait of French, in reception room
Here is the portrait as it appears in the reception room today. Photographer Mitchell Shapiro, in a 1971 interview, wasn’t certain the portrait hung in this location when he worked for French from 1928 to 1931, but he couldn’t offer any alternatives. Below the portrait, La Jeunesse, by Herbert Adams, rests upon a low ornate wooden chest, which may have been used to store costumes. The tall, twisted-design candlesticks, according to a handwritten note in one of the Margaret French Cresson oral history interview transcriptions, were a gift from French’s good friend, the sculptor Evelyn Beatrice Longman. Although in a 1970s interview Margaret claims that these are Russian candlesticks she had purchased herself sometime after French’s death, it seems more likely that these are indeed the pair of “tall eastern painted wood candlesticks given to DCF by Evelyn B. Longman Batchelder,” as described in the files.
Daniel Chester French in the studio, portrait sketch by John C. Johansen, 1926
Immortal Love in the studio
John C. Johansen also painted this “portrait sketch” of French at work in his studio. Again, he wears a dark jacket and bow tie, yet here he seems dwarfed, not ennobled, by his creations. The seated Lincoln looms at the top left of the canvas, and the figures of Immortal Love carry on behind him (see photo of the “”Geyser Group” in the studio today, in the southwest corner of the studio). A small model of the central figure from In Flanders Fields sits at Lincoln’s feet (see larger version in the photo at right). The painting also includes the southeast corner shelf holding small models and heads, a round medallion hanging from the wall, and plaster casts upon a vertical beam.
In October of 1926, French wrote to Erwin S. Barrie of New York’s Grand Central Art Galleries, “I have your letter in regard to Mr. Johansen’s painting of my studio. The picture belongs not to me, as I wish it did, but to Mr. Johansen, and you can report to him at his house, 12 West 9th Street.” It seems that French either acquired or borrowed the work, as two years later he instructed photographer DeWitt Ward to go the apartment at 36 Gramercy Park and “make a photograph of a portrait by Mr. Johansen of me in my studio. It hangs on the left of the fire-place in the entrance hall.” Later on, the Earnshaw family gave Margaret a color print of the portrait sketch, and in the 1970s it was stored with other framed oil and watercolor paintings in a hall by the Chesterwood National Trust offices.
Prior to Johansen, another artist had been interested in depicting French’s studio, but I have not come across that image. In 1920 French wrote to Monroe North of Stockbridge, “We feel very much complimented that you should wish to make a drawing of the interior of my studio. I certainly shall be most happy to have you do so at your convenience.” Sadly, I have been unable to track down any further information about Monroe North. If the drawing ever emerges, it would provide many clues as to the appearance of the studio in the early 1920s.
The Frenches, by John C. Johansen
Johansen and his wife, the artist Jean MacLane, lived nearby at Weyborne Hill, Stockbridge. Johansen was a close friend of French, and later served as an a usher at French’s funeral. He also painted the above double portrait of French and his wife. The portrait depicts French and his wife as genteel connoisseurs of books and culture, nestled in their cozy home, not a speck of plaster in sight. In an October 1, 1927 letter to his relative and financial adviser, Robert M. Bush, French wrote, “Things are going on amicably here. Mr. Johansen is doing one of his inimitable pictures including Mary and me as we sit at the table in the living room. He began last evening at eight and our sitting was over at about twelve, although he remained until half past to do some things to the picture without us. He sits on the floor in the most constrained of attitudes and I should think he would not be able to move this morning, but he is young and agile.” In 1971, the photographer Mitchell Shapiro thought that the double portrait was perhaps displayed near the doorway of the studio reception room, where the painting by Sir Peter Lely hangs today. Today, the portrait hangs in the main residence at Chesterwood.
This research project is based primarily upon the photographic material in the French archives at Chapin Library, Williams College. The paintings by John C. Johansen, along with letters, inventories and interviews, all provide clues as we try to figure out what the studio looked like, what was displayed, and how French utilized the space during his lifetime. While not as crisp or detailed as photographs, the paintings give us a sense of how French may have wanted to be portrayed and how he may have arranged or rearranged the objects in the studio for artistic purposes. After all, “there is a lot to be gained from painted portraits. A true portrait is fuller and richer than simply an image on a flat surface.” (Contemporary artist, Sam Adoquei)
Beyond Memorials and Monuments: the Life of the Studio
Daniel Chester French had a reputation as a hard-working artist, an especially sought-after sculptor for portrait busts, monuments and memorials as he shuttled between two busy studios in New York and Chesterwood. It cannot be overlooked, however, that he chose to build his relatively modest home and studio at a popular summertime colony. Regular trains linked New York and Boston to Stockbridge and neighboring Lenox, and these towns served as summer playgrounds for the “Gilded Age” economic elite between 1880 and 1920. French spent half of the year at his home and studio in New York’s Greenwich Village, and the other half in what he called “heaven,” a.k.a Chesterwood. Laconic and witty, French surrounded himself with friends and extended family, and his wife Mary and daughter Margaret enjoyed a busy social life as well. French often joked about their activities, such as in an April 5, 1911 letter to Newton Mackintosh, “Margaret at present spending a few days to recover . . She has nothing much the matter with her. She has led a very strenuous life doing nothing of any consequence with great persistence.”
My main task in looking through the French archives is to obtain information and images that illustrate what the studio looked like during French’s lifetime, yet the life and activities that swirled about Chesterwood all summer long is a fascinating story as well. Sprinkled throughout the archival material are photograph albums documenting Margaret’s leisure time with friends and family at Chesterwood. These intriguing photos offer a peek into the lives of the wealthy in the early twentieth century, and document how young men and women spent their free time: playing tennis, swimming, picnicking, jumping rope, dressing up, going for long drives, lounging and flirting on the lawn and clowning for the camera, relaxing on the porches, and enjoying party after party after party.
Two tennis-playing friends
Friend with a comical hat
Playing jump rope on the lawn
Friend leaping on the lawn
Margaret and friend motoring
After looking through the albums, I came away with an image of Margaret as a jovial, well-liked, fun-loving and playful young woman. She is often the one beaming at the camera or gazing lovingly at a friend. She enjoyed dressing up in costumes and posing for photos in the garden.
Margaret and friend in classical dress
There are many photographs of Margaret clad in classical dress, often with props such as the stylized bow seen above. The famous modern dancer Isadora Duncan once came to see French about Greek classical costumes. Margaret later recalled, “she danced on the upper part of the garden wall while French and friends sat on the studio steps and watched.”
Isadora Duncan
Along with classical draperies and robes, there were probably various other costumes available in the studio, stored in the ornate wooden chest along the west wall of the reception room, such as a “Mexican costume” French mentions in an October 8, 1908 letter to Newton Mackintosh, and perhaps this “Pierrot” outfit, below.
Friend in a "Pierrot" costume
The studio was Margaret’s preferred location for parties and dances. Unfortunately, I have not come across photographs of the studio cleaned and decorated for a party, nor any images of people dancing within. Even though the flashbulb wasn’t invented until 1927, the long days of summer should have provided enough light for evening interior photography. In the day-by-day journal Margaret kept during her teenage years, she wrote of the summer evenings spent dancing at the studio: Sept. 5, 1905 “Dorothy Thomas came over in aft. & we played on pianola and fooled around out in the studio, and danced out there at night;” Sept. 17, 1905 “Danced in studio in evening;” September 11, 1907 “Group for dinner, studio after;” August 9, 1908 “After dinner danced in studio . . . garden in moonlight;” August 13, 1908 “Dinner in Studio in eve., . . . garden lighted up.”
On August 21, 1913 French wrote in a letter to his good friend, the up-and-coming opera singer Rosalie Miller: “Margaret is to have a costume party in the studio next week and sculpture will be held up for the time being. I don’t see how she can expect me to pay for her frivolities if she won’t let me work!” That year, French constructed a covered way between the studio and west piazza of the house so that guests attending Margaret’s masquerade party could have a dry walk to the house for midnight dinner. In an August 27, 1913 letter to Evelyn Beatrice Longman, French offers more details about the upcoming event: “The excitement here now is a costume party that Margaret is giving Friday evening, — in the studio, of course, and the Longfellow relief has to be pushed against the wall and the platform used as a seat, — ‘great Caeser turned to clay’! I am constructing a covered way from the studio piazza to the house piazza, so that people can have their wraps at the house and come back for supper. If it is good weather the garden will be illuminated with lanterns.” These annual costume parties were very popular and took great preparation. On September 1, 1915, French wrote to Robert Bush, “Margaret is having a crowd of young folk for Sunday and on the eleventh is to have her annual costume party in the studio with attendant joys and expenses.”
By 1916, Margaret’s social calendar slowed down somewhat, as French writes in a July 25, 1916 letter to Rosalie Miller, “Margaret has reformed and instead of having the house full of young folk she has not yet had any guests at all. I confess that I quite miss the gayety of past seasons.” Yet, later that summer, French wrote that Margaret will have “her annual ball next Friday night!”
Margaret, at far right, with friends
While French often grumbled about Margaret’s excesses, he too enjoyed throwing parties, often inviting his Stockbridge friends and neighbors to his studio to celebrate the completion of a large work.
Music had a central place at Chesterwood and the studio. French kept a Victrola phonograph in the studio’s reception room. In a 1970s interview, Margaret recalled an upright piano located just to the east side of the studio garden door. A pianola was attached to the piano’s front, converting it into a player piano.
Musical trio on the porch, Evelyn Beatrice Longman's wedding
French’s correspondence with Rosalie Miller and her parents documents his interest in music and his devotion to Rosalie and her career. His letters also shed light on musical activities that took place in the studio. On September 18, 1914 he wrote to Rosalie’s father, “I think it probable that Mrs. Miller has written you that Mrs. French invited some people to hear Rosely sing and play, Wednesday afternoon in my studio. It was a perfectly beautiful day so that the studio doors could be open to the garden, and I arranged the studio so as to make an attractive back-ground for our ‘prima donna.’”
By 1917, however, there was no longer a piano in the studio, as we learn from French’s July 28, 1917 letter to Mrs. Miller, “Rosalie promises to come over here tomorrow afternoon and we shall do what we can to make her content. She will have to rest from her music as we haven’t a piano on the place, the first time for almost twenty years.” A letter in the archives from French to Wood Brothers of Pittsfield, MA, indicates that he rented a piano from the company from June 21 to October 1, 1928, . Perhaps French rented for a season, or longer, instead of purchasing one for the studio. The baby grand piano currently in the reception room was brought to Glendale from the New York studio after French’s death in 1931.
Rosalie Miller, in flamenco dress, on porch
Rosalie Miller spent a great deal of time at Chesterwood and she appears in many of the photograph albums. Here she poses in a theatrical Spanish flamenco dress on the studio porch. This photograph is from a series of about ten similar images. One of the Parkman reliefs is visible in the background.
Theatricals, such as tableaux vivants (“living pictures”) also took place in the studio. In the 1970s, Margaret recalled that French, family, guests and friends would “plan and arrange and get ready and rehearse for the various poses before a party.” French had several trunks full of costumes, so there were always plenty of outfits to use in the scenes. There were two wooden frames within which people would pose, and mosquito netting was applied to the front of the frame to give the illusion of depth. At one time, one of the frames was stored along the ceiling of the studio basement. A September 29, 1912 list of tableaux vivants titles, handwritten by French on orange notepaper, included “Triumph of Ariadne, Christine of Denmark, . . . Vestal Virgins at Altar.”
French was an avid letter-writer, and his correspondence is often infused with mentions of the lively events taking place at Chesterwood. These letters, along with photographs and other mementos, offer a peek into the French family’s social life, as well the lives of the leisure class around the turn of the century. As I read French’s letters, I am seeking mentions of sculptures and projects created at Chesterwood, as well as descriptions of the events and festivities that enlivened French’s “heaven.” With all the activity swirling about the studio, it’s a wonder French was able to get any work done at all. Perhaps that is why he often relocated to the more isolated Little Studio (later re-named “Meadowlark” by Margaret), a short walk through the woods. There, he could work among the peaceful hemlocks while Margaret and Mary entertained their overflowing roster of guests up at the main house.
All historic photographs are courtesy of Chapin Library, Williams College, Gift of the National Trust for Historic Preservation/Chesterwood, a National Trust Historic Site, Stockbridge, Massachusetts. Photo of Isadora Duncan from WordPress blog, “Imminent Change”: http://6247daisy.wordpress.com/tag/isadora-duncan/
The Sculptor’s Daughter, Margaret French Cresson
Margaret French Cresson, by Violet Oakley
“Margaret . . thinks she will stick to portraiture and be a specialist in portrait busts.” (Daniel Chester French letter to Mrs. Albert Miller. September 24, 1921)
One of my tasks as I continue to work on the Daniel Chester French Chesterwood Studio Reinterpretation Project is to locate images of Daniel Chester French’s daughter, Margaret French Cresson, in her father’s studio. The only child of the sculptor and his wife, Mary Adams French, Margaret spent many hours in the studio. I have come across photographs of her as a young girl, sitting in the reception room, frolicking in the gardens, and posing for her father. At five years old, Margaret was the model for the angels in the Clark Memorial (Forest Hill Cemetery, Massachusetts; plaster bas-relief maquettes on view in the studio), and as a young woman, she posed for Evangeline, one of the six poetic characters incorporated into the Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Memorial (1912–14, Cambridge, Massachusetts).
Modeling for Evangeline, the Longfellow Memorial
French's New York studio, 1900
As an adult, Margaret followed in her father’s rather large footsteps, and became a sculptor in her own right. This 1915 photograph (see below) shows her working on a portrait head in the Chesterwood studio, the southeast corner of the room clearly visible. It is exciting detective work to compare the 1915 photograph with a recent one: many of the objects on the shelves today were already in place in 1915. Objects which have not moved in almost one hundred years include the plaster model of St. Paul (1905, Minnesota State Capitol), the plaster head of Alma Mater (1902), and the Standing Baby plaster cast (1911), a component of the marble statue at the Old Federal Building in Cleveland. Above the shelf is a lion’s head mounted to a wooden beam, and tucked below the shelf are round and square bas-reliefs. Down the wooden beam at the middle of the shelf, a portrait head rests upon a bracket, and another lion head watches over the studio. Tucked into the corner are an architectural fragment, a relief portrait, and a boy’s head. There are also some objects which appear in the photograph but are no longer in the studio today, including a plaster Alma Mater, at the far left, a Greek Tragedy mask, and a framed set of photographs of equestrian monuments (which, in an interesting side-note, appears in a 1900 photograph of French’s New York studio).
Margaret French Cresson at work in the studio, 1915
Southeast corner of the Chesterwood Studio (photograph by Dana Pilson)
The Daniel Chester French material also includes some of French’s personal correspondence. Occasionally, letters relate to photographs, and putting “two and two” together is a thrilling component of this project. On August 27, 1916, French wrote with father’s pride to his close friend, the singer Rosalie Miller, “Margaret has just finished a study of a girl’s head which she is going to send to the Stockbridge exhibition — with my consent and approval. I want you to see it.” This is probably the work she is sculpting in the photograph above left.
Another image from about the same period shows Margaret, in fancy dress and sun hat, working side-by-side with her father who is also nattily attired in dress-shirt and bow tie (see below left). Margaret works on a portrait bust while her father seems to put finishing touches on Brooklyn (1913–16); a smaller-scale reduction of the Brooklyn is nearby. A related photograph (below right), dated on the back as “about 1926” but probably closer to 1915, also shows the two sculptors in the studio. French again poses next to Brooklyn and Margaret stands by a portrait head, a different one, however, from the work in the previous image. In this snapshot, Margaret has donned an artist smock which complements her smart hat and long skirt. Nothing of the studio except the back wall and door is visible.
Margaret French Cresson and Daniel Chester French at work
Margaret French Cresson and Daniel Chester French in the studio, "about 1926"
Also in the archives is a holiday card from 1939, showing Margaret in the studio eight years after French’s death. She stands next to the final plaster model of Abraham Lincoln, the base adorned with a large wreath, clay pots on the floor similar to those currently in the studio. Behind her: the plaster working model of Immortal Love (1920), what appears to be one of the figures from the Samuel F. Dupont Memorial Fountain (Washington, D.C., 1917–21), and a large relief, possibly the full-size plaster model for Knowledge and Wisdom (Boston Public Library Doors, 1894–1904). Upon close examination of the photograph, I realized that the image must have been flopped. I created a mirror image, and then voilà! It finally made sense. The light coming in from the northern overhead sky-light windows now casts correct shadows upon the wreath, Margaret wears her watch on her left hand (in the photographs of her sculpting, it appears she is indeed a “righty”) and the Boston Public Library doors are to the left of Lincoln, where they are today.
Margaret French Cresson's holiday card, 1939, as printed
Holiday card "flopped"
More Margaret French Cresson material awaits my examination, and I look forward to getting to know her better not only as French’s daughter and the eventual inheritor, caretaker, and donator of Chesterwood, but as a talented sculptor and gifted artist.
All photographs and images are courtesy Chapin Library, Williams College, Gift of the National Trust for Historic Preservation/Chesterwood, a National Trust Historic Site, Stockbridge, Massachusetts, except where noted
The Sculptor and the Engineer: Daniel Chester French and Ambrose Swasey
French and Swasey
In a previous blog post, I focused on a photograph of French’s last work of sculpture - Andromeda. In that photograph, a background scrim allowed only a tantalizing peek into the southeast corner of French’s Chesterwood studio. This blog post focuses on some photographs that offer a clearer look into the studio and confirm just which objects populated the southeast corner of the room during the summer of 1922. These images document French’s work on a bust of Ambrose Swasey (1846–1937), a mechanical engineer, inventor, entrepreneur, manager, astronomer, and philanthropist from French’s hometown, Exeter, New Hampshire.
By 1922, French had turned away from portraiture and had found a niche creating larger memorials and monuments, such as the war memorial in Exeter’s Gale Park, dedicated in July of 1922. A month later, French lamented to his good friend, the opera singer Rosalie Miller: “I have promised to make a portrait bust of Mr. Ambrose Swasey, a noted engineer, who is coming next week to ‘sit’ for me. I didn’t mean to make it and named a price that I thought would be prohibitive, but he took me up and there was no escape. I don’t like portrait busts, but no doubt I shall get interested.”
French got interested quickly, and on August 29, 1922, he wrote to fellow sculptor Evelyn Beatrice Longman: “I told you, didn’t I? – that I was betrayed into promising to make a bust of Mr. Swasey? He came here last week and I nearly finished him in three days and a half, – and it nearly finished me in the same brief time! He visited us and made himself very popular and, on the other hand, he seemed to think he had seldom enjoyed himself so much.”
French at work, August 1922
The photograph above shows French at work on the bust of Swasey. In the studio we can see the model for the First Division Monument (Washington, DC), which French was working on during the summer of 1922, and Benediction, also dated 1922. (French had been commissioned to produce a sixteen foot version of Benediction for a monument near St. Mihiel, France, that would honor soldiers from Massachusetts who had died during World War I. But the funds could not be raised, and neither the monument nor the full-scale sculpture was ever made.)
Here, we are afforded a generous view of the southeast corner of the studio. A large frame containing images of French’s equestrian monuments hangs on the wall. According to an inventory found in the archives, the frame had been moved to Margaret French Cresson’s office. Objects that remain in the same places today include the ferocious-looking head of a lion above the shelf, the head of Alma Mater, a cast of a walking lion, and the Red Cross tablet. Down a second beam, there is a sculpture on top of a bracket, and another lion’s head, and a model of the Exeter war memorial on a stand–these objects can still be seen in the studio today.
DCF working on portrait bust of Ambrose Swasey
In early September, the sculptor wrote to his nephew, Henry French Hollis: “I am now at work . . on a bust of Mr. Ambrose Swasey of Exeter and Cleveland. I don’t make portrait busts now, having more interesting things to do, but I was sort o’ betrayed into this. He came and spent three or four days with us week before last and is coming again next week when I expect to finish it. He is quite a striking figure with perfectly white hair and beard and rosy complexion which, however, is wasted on sculpture.”
This photo shows French modeling the portrait bust, which sits atop a wooden box labeled “Ovington Bros, 312-314 Fifth Avenue. New York.” Ovington Brothers imported Chinaware, French mirrors, and other luxury items, and it is likely that the French family had ordered some goods from this establishment. With Yankee thrift, French reused the box for his own purposes. And another detail to note: the sculptor usually wore a pongee smock to protect his clothes while working, but perhaps French donned a suit jacket for this photography session.
While leafing through one of the photograph albums in the archives collection, I was surprised to come across this intriguing image from the same series.
In the studio, Swasey with his portrait bust, and the "spirit" of French
Among French’s correspondence, I found a September 25, 1922 letter in which the sculptor thanks Swasey for sending along a group of photographs: “I am glad that you can look back on your little visits at Glendale with great pleasure, as we certainly do. You achieved great popularity here, as you are probably in the habit of doing. We shall hope that another season, even if you have not the excuse of sitting for a bust, that you will make us a visit. You will always be sure of a welcome. The photographs that you enclosed, are first rate except the spirit photograph of me which does not seem to be sufficiently embodied to be recognizable. They are a valuable record of our labors with the bust, and I shall refer to them in the future with much interest and pleasure.”
Indeed: French is there, but not there. The exposure probably required French to stand perfectly still, but he seems to have lingered for only half the required time. In contrast, Swasey stands perfectly still next to his portrait bust, looking as if he too had been modeled in clay or carved from marble.
- Ambrose Swasey portrait bust
A third photograph in this series shows the Swasey portrait, close to completion, against drapery in the background, with the Seated Lincoln and the Boston Public Library doors at the left, and the bust of Edgar Allan Poe at the left. These photographs are currently located in three different boxes among the Daniel Chester French and the Margaret French Cresson archives; they are juxtaposed here for the first time in many years.
In comparing these photographs with snapshots of the studio today, we can see that some works have remained in place for almost a century. The Seated Lincoln remains in situ, and on the nearby shelf, two female heads (Evelyn Beatrice Longman, 1916 and Unidentified girl by Margaret French Cresson, 1916) are in the same location today, along with the General William F. Bartlett plaster maquette, a head of a young man (perhaps a study for a larger work), the St. Paul Quadriga, and the delicate Spirit of the Waters model. Objects no longer on the shelf include the small model of female figure standing with her arms outstretched and an unfinished head of a young child. In 1922, the objects appear crowded together–currently there are fewer works allowing more space between each.
By enlarging the 1922 photographs, I could identify a small tiger head cast hanging from one of the vertical beams–it is in the same location today. A Caproni cast of Jean-Baptiste Carpeaux’s Negro Slave below the tiger head has been replaced by a lion’s head, which in 1922 hung between the two halves of the Battle of Manila Bay, or “Dewey” Medal. Today, the two medal halves are hung closer together, one overlapping the other.
Chesterwood studio, 2011 (photograph by Dana Pilson)
From 1904 until 1905 Swasey was the president of the American Society of Mechanical Engineers. According to Chesterwood’s records, the bronze portrait bust resides at the Engineer’s Club in New York City. The Engineer’s Club building now houses apartments and offices, so I am trying to determine the exact location of the object. I will update this blog with the information when I receive it. A replica of the Swasey bust is in the collection of the Exeter Historical Society.
http://exeterhistory.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=89&Itemid=9
These valuable photographs provoke questions regarding some of the objects in the studio: Who is depicted within the tabernacle tablet that hangs upon the wall? Is that a death mask, and if so, whose face does it show? What about the outstretched arms that hold some sort of object? French chose to display these objects, and each one probably had some sort of significance or usefulness. The utility of the 1922 photographs is three-fold: they allow a glimpse into the past, enhance and illuminate the present, and will guide the reinterpretation of the studio in the future.
All photographs courtesy Chapin Library, Williams College, Gift of the National Trust for Historic Preservation/Chesterwood, a National Trust Historic Site, Stockbridge, Massachusetts, except where noted.
