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At the Peabody Essex Museum, tracking the American Experiment through more than two centuries of art
At the Peabody Essex Museum, tracking the American Experiment through more than two centuries of art

Boston Globe

time03-07-2025

  • Entertainment
  • Boston Globe

At the Peabody Essex Museum, tracking the American Experiment through more than two centuries of art

SALEM — 'Making History,' the immodest title of a somewhat more modest exhibition newly opened at the Peabody Essex Museum, promises much and delivers some of it. Gleaned from the considerable collection of the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts are 86 works by American artists across eras and generations, some wildly famous and many not at all so. What's more American than make or break? Past the marquee names — Winslow Homer, Alice Neel, Georgia O'Keeffe, Andrew Wyeth, Stuart Davis — a theme emerges; or should I say, is driven home? 'Making America' isn't subtle and can feel simplistic in its corrective effort to wedge neglected branches of American art history into a canon that's still too narrow. Even so, it's a worthy cause, especially this weekend, as America looks at itself and tries to decide if it likes what it sees. 'Making History' is a reminder that the American Experiment is a forever-unfinished work in progress, and offers a broader base to build on. PAFA, in Philadephia, has its own story to tell, too. Established in 1805, it was one of the first academies to admit women and Black artists. 'Making art is a process of making history,' a block of text on the wall proclaims; in national mythmaking, artists matter. 'Making History,' with fewer than 100 pieces, can't offer much more than a skim of a complex and fractious national narrative still being fought over — and maybe never more than right now — but it's a meaningful one. Advertisement Horace Pippin, 'John Brown Going to His Hanging,' 1942. Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, Philadelphia In the first gallery, competing visions of an uneasy country rub up against each other: Benjamin West's 'Penn's Treaty with the Indians,' 1771–72, a shining vision of revisionist history — colonists kneeling before their Indigenous hosts in gratitude and respect — shares space with Horace Pippin's 'John Brown Going to His Hanging,' 1942, and Alice Neel's 'Investigation of Poverty at the Russell Sage Foundation,' 1933. Advertisement Myth, meet reality: West's beatific scene was painted a century after the British colonist William Penn's Alice Neel, 'Investigation of Poverty at the Russell Sage Foundation,' 1933. Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, Philadelphia. © The Estate of Alice Neel, Courtesy of The Estate of Alice Neel and David Zwirner The painting's golden glow further tarnishes against its gallery mates. Neel's, a dun and gloomy scene of Depression-era suffering — the woman at the frame's center, Neel wrote, was living in an overturned car in New York with her seven children — is an unflinching document of urban poverty. Pippin's, dense, claustrophobic and bleak, depicts the final moments of the firebrand abolitionist John Brown, who tried to mount an anti-enslavement revolt in 1859. Pippin, who was Black, was also self-taught, making his inclusion in the esteemed Academy collection all the more poignant. Painters like West have long been pillars of the canon; for generations, they held it up on their own. Recent years have seen a broader, more enlightened view begin to inflect its standard fare. Examples are many and close at hand, from the Advertisement Charles Willson Peale, 'The Artist in His Museum,' 1822. Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, Philadelphia That display is just downstairs, and withers 'Making History' a little by comparison; fuller and more deliberate, the stories it unpacks are a model of what a museum collection should look like in this fractious moment. 'Making History,' as a traveling show, feels more general and rootless, because it is. And though it can feel like supplementary reading, there's a richness not to be ignored. Mid-exhibition, it labors a little; Charles Willson Peale's 'The Artist in His Museum,' 1822, a self-portrait of the PAFA founder literally raising a curtain on the many wonders of the collection he's assembled, is a gesture of self-aggrandizing pride. It lifts the veil, if you'll pardon the pun, on early museum-making as a practice of pilfering, rounding up exotic bits from far-flung cultures deemed as primitive as a gesture of dominance and ownership — critical for a young nation's sense of itself. I would have liked to see that explored — indeed, the exhibition is begging for it — but Peale's self-portrait is paired with a 1977 self-portait by Joan Brown, same-scaled and similarly self-declarative, which makes another very valid point about the exclusion of women from the American canon. Barkley L. Hendricks, 'J. S. B. III,' 1968; and Gilbert Stuart, 'George Washington (The Lansdowne Portrait),' 1796. Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, Philadelphia But the show comes to life in other matchups: Gilbert Stuart's iconic 'George Washington (The Lansdowne Portrait),' 1796, sharing space with portraits by contemporary Black painters James Brantley and Barkley Hendricks. There are so many ways to go with this — Washington, paragon of freedom, crafting a nation of freedom denied to both men's ancestors, for one — but let's stick with the pictures. Stuart's portrait has the sheen of stiff aristocratic hagiography — Thomas Gainsborough and the British Royals, say — with the ornamentation of Republican Rome, the classical democratic ideal. Brantley paints himself in shadow — 'Brother James,' 1968 — wrapped in a grimy American flag; he had just returned from the war in Vietnam, waged in the name of a freedom far from ideal. Hendricks, meanwhile, is just cool, cool, cool — his 'J. S. B. III,' 1968, has a relaxed and confident swagger, an avatar for the frank depictions of self-possessed Black subjects to which he devoted his painting life. The counterpoint he makes with Washington is just as powerful as Brantley's: He meets fusty myth with the indomitable joy of his own now. Advertisement The show is never quite so socially powerful and vibrant as it is right here — its apex, come too soon. From there, we follow what's essentially a long denouement, through old favorites and themes of quotidian American life and on to the landscape — inseparable, city or countryside, from the nation's self-imagining. Myth pervades here, too — Homer's beloved 'Fox Hunt,' 1893, with its red fox struggling through snow to evade hungry crows, an allegory of the elemental cycle of life and death — and nudges up against the anxiety of modern progress. Nearby, Childe Hassam's 'The Hovel and the Skyscraper,' 1904, captures rapid, inexorable change: From his apartment window on the Upper West Side, construction scaffolding frames a riding stable in the near distance — soon, you can guess, not to be. Advertisement I would have loved to linger long and more deeply on this theme, bound up as it is in every aspect of American history and art. There's a continuum hinted at, but unexplored: From the Hudson River School with More friction means more truth, not to mention a better story. 'Making History' hints at frictions, but mostly defers. Its deference is largely in favor of beauty, I'll give it that. I'll never turn down a chance to see the soft focus of an Arthur Dove landscape, more feeling than fact, and his 'Naples Yellow Morning,' 1935, loose and dreamy, is pure pleasure. But pleasure is far too easy, and especially right now. History is being rewritten as we speak. Don't look away. MAKING HISTORY: 200 YEARS OF AMERICAN ART FROM THE PENNSYLVANIA ACADEMY OF THE FINE ARTS At Peabody Essex Museum, 161 Essex St., Salem. Through Sept. 21. 978-745-9500, Murray Whyte can be reached at

Rembrandt Peale's Famous Portrait
Rembrandt Peale's Famous Portrait

Epoch Times

time22-04-2025

  • General
  • Epoch Times

Rembrandt Peale's Famous Portrait

The Peales rank among the most famous artistic families in American history. Patriarch Charles Willson Peale (1741–1827) is renowned for his portraits of George Washington, other integral figures in America's independence, and his own family. The senior Peale was also a noted naturalist and innovative museum founder. Most of his 17 children were named after scientists, such as Charles Linnaeus; and Old Master painters, including Raphael, Titian, Sofonisba Anguissola, and Angelica Kauffman. Several of Peale's sons and daughters went on to forge distinguished artistic and scientific careers. The portraitist and history painter Rembrandt Peale (1778–1860) was the most successful. His depiction of his brother Rubens (1784–1865) with a flowering geranium is America's Finest Portraitist Artist's self portrait, 1828, by Rembrandt Peale. Oil on canvas; 19 inches by 14 1/2 inches. Detroit Institute of Arts. Public Domain Rembrandt Peale was born in Bucks County, Pennsylvania. Like several of his siblings, he received his earliest art instruction from his father. Rembrandt's talent was apparent at a young age; his first self-portrait dates to when he was just 13 years old. In a career that spanned nearly 70 years, he created at least a Unusual for the time, Rembrandt traveled extensively throughout the American East Coast and spent extended periods abroad for both study and work purposes. His early style reflects the English school of portraiture. Rembrandt learned this style first from his father and, later, from his teacher Benjamin West. The American-born West built a prominent career in London as president of the Royal Academy. However, Rembrandt's style soon changed, influenced by his sojourns in France where he responded to Neoclassicism. This was considered a sophisticated style and factored in his success with American collectors. "George Washington, Patriae Pater," circa 1824, by Rembrandt Peale. Oil on canvas; 72 1/4 inches by 54 1/4 inches. Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, Philadelphia. Public Domain Both Rembrandt and his father contributed extensively to the pictorial legacy of George Washington. When his son was a teenager, Charles Willson Peale arranged for him to paint the president from life. This sole sitting was the catalyst for a later series of poetic and heroic images by Rembrandt. He painted no fewer than Brother Rubens Related Stories 3/11/2024 1/25/2025 A portrait of Rubens Peale, 1807, by Rembrandt Peale. Oil on canvas; 26 1/4 inches by 21 1/2 inches. National Portrait Gallery, Washington. Rembrandt prominently painted his brother Rubens eyeglasses, who had extremely poor eyesight. Public Domain No one thought Rubens, Rembrandt's brother, would become an artist, since he had extremely poor eyesight. As a result of his condition, his father didn't give him art lessons. Instead, Rubens was entrusted with operating the family's museums—the one established by his father, his own institution, and the museum founded by Rembrandt. Additionally, Rubens was an accomplished gardener, farmer, and pioneering botanist. In an inspiring turn of events, Rubens did learn to paint—when he was 71. He became accomplished in still lifes after his daughter, Mary Jane Peale, taught him how to paint. His work is reminiscent of that of his uncle James and brother Raphaelle; the latter is considered the first professional still life American painter. A beautiful example in Rubens's small oeuvre is 'Still Life with Watermelon,' dated to the year of his death at the age of 81. Still Life with Watermelon, 1865, by Rubens Peale. Oil on canvas; 19 inches by 27 1/2 inches. Image courtesy of the Princeton University Art Museum The 1801 canvas 'Rubens Peale With a Geranium' is in the collection of the National Gallery of Art (NGA). The institution purchased it at a Sotheby's auction in 1985 for over $4 million, which was then a record price for an American painting. At the time of sale, NGA director J. Carter Brown Peale's Double Portrait "Rubens Peale With a Geranium," 1801, by Rembrandt Peale. Oil on canvas; 28 1/8 inches by 24 inches. National Gallery of Art, Washington. Public Domain The artist was 23 and his sitter was 17 when Rembrandt painted the picture in Philadelphia. The work may be considered a double portrait: It is a likeness of Rubens as well as of an important geranium, long alleged to be the first specimen of the plant ever grown in America. The painting is an unparalleled example from Rembrandt's early career and reveals his great technical skill in conveying naturalism. Both plant and man seem alive, allowing the viewer to emotionally connect with the scene. The influence of Rembrandt's study of the Old Masters and their rendering of flesh, light, and texture can be found in the picture, from Rubens's peachy skin to the terracotta pot. The NGA writes that the artwork showcases 'firm, clear drawing, carefully modulated color, and an intense devotion to detail.' Rubens is placed seated on the left side of the canvas. Intriguingly, he wears a pair of glasses and holds another set in his left hand, which rests on the table. The glasses allow Rembrandt to display his adeptness at depicting illumination and reflection, especially visible under Rubens's eyes. The young man does not look at his plant and appears lost in thought. Rubens connects with the geranium through touch: His right hand rests on the pot's rim and two fingers press on the soil in a gesture to test for moisture. Both brothers are sensitive to their charges: Rembrandt to his sitter and brother and Rubens to his prized plant. Mary Jane, Rubens's only daughter, wrote accounts about the background and process of painting 'Rubens Peale With a Geranium' that scholars have found invaluable. She explained that the work was first painted with her father just holding glasses, not wearing them. Rembrandt decided that aesthetically it would be preferable to show them on Rubens, but he kept the original depiction intact so as not to ruin the rendering of the hand. She also wrote that the plant was 'the first one in this country.' Art historians have concluded that there are nuances to this claim. Specifically, they believe that it did not mean that it was the first geranium in general, but rather of a particular variety. The hypothesized species is Pelargonium inquinans. An engraving of this plant was published in 1732 in 'Hortus Elthanmensis' by German botanist Johann Jacob Dillenius and closely resembles Rubens's plant. Pelargoniums are endemic to South Africa, but they reached Europe by the early 1700s. Since they resemble geraniums, Europeans called them by that name. The nomenclature has remained to the present day, but pelargoniums and geraniums, while in the same family, have a different genus. An illustration of the species Pelargonium inquinans in "Hortus Elthamensis,"1732, by Johann Jacob Dillen Dillenius. Public Domain In the Gallery publication 'American Paintings of the Nineteenth Century, Part II,' curator Ellen G. Miles 'Velvety branches, softly textured leaves of five to seven lobes, scarlet flowers with five petals, and a long column of stamens. Its name inquinans (Latin for 'staining') is said to derive from the fact that its leaves turn a rusty or light brown color after they have been touched.' In the painting, this trait appears to be visible on the lowest leaf's edges. In the early 19th century, the horticultural ability to cultivate pelargoniums in the United States was viewed as considered a source of national pride. It is believed that while he was president, Thomas Jefferson grew Pelargonium inquinans at the White House. Rembrandt's inclusion of the scarlet geranium in this portrait 'commemorated his brother's horticultural triumph,' explained the NGA. According to Mary Jane, the geranium was the intended true subject of the portrait. The legacy of the Peale family remains relevant in today's art institutions, illustrated by Rembrandt's beloved and popular 'Rubens Peale With a Geranium.' In the contemporary era, it has even inspired a horticultural pot by the Connecticut-based Guy Wolff, who makes traditional pottery. His prized 'Peale Pot' in terracotta has an 18th century shape and is embellished with a simple and elegant rope rim. An appreciation of pelargoniums lives on with gardeners, and anyone at home can recreate an homage to this painting with their very own Peale pot. What arts and culture topics would you like us to cover? Please email ideas or feedback to

A quick, queer presidential history for Presidents' Day
A quick, queer presidential history for Presidents' Day

Yahoo

time17-02-2025

  • General
  • Yahoo

A quick, queer presidential history for Presidents' Day

Courtesy Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts; Stamptastic/shutterstock; Courtesy FDR Presidential Library & Museum Baron von Steuben, John F. Kennedy, and Eleanor Roosevelt. I've constantly found history painted as dull. But history is just chronicling people's lives, and that includes members of the LGBTQ+ community, even if they're often forgotten about or overlooked. While most don't celebrate much for Presidents' Day (and even I, a president nerd, am not in a celebratory mood this year!), it can be an essential time to look at some of the surprising queer history associated with the Commanders in Chief and show that queerness isn't a recent trend or fad but is integral to American von Steuben, military man and gay playboy. Washington may have been a tactful general during the Revolutionary War, but he didn't learn everything on his own. While stuck at Valley Forge in 1778, Washington was desperate for assistance. His troops were starving, ill-clothed, and undisciplined. In comes Friedrich Wilhelm von Steuben from Prussia. Earning the title of 'Baron' for his military service to a German prince, von Steuben seized the opportunity to make a new life for himself in America. Of course, the towering Prussian had to make a sizable impression to whip the Colonial Army into shape. Von Steuben arrived at Valley Forge decked out in furs, brilliant red garments, and military metals, with some observers seeing him as "a perfect personification of Mars (the God of War)." Von Steuben didn't come alone. He traveled with his young male companion/secretary and would have relationships with two other military officers at Valley Forge. Washington was keenly aware of this but didn't punish von Steuben or his lovers. Of course, men were not the only thing on the Baron's mind. After all, he had a job. He quickly taught Washington how to run a capable army, clean the facilities at Valley Forge, and bring discipline to the ranks. So impressed with his work, Washington helped von Steuben be promoted to the rank of Inspector General, later drafting regulations and a discipline guide for soldiers which became known as the "Blue Book." This remained the US's official military guide for nearly 40 years and is still taught at West Point. Von Steuben himself retired in upstate New York with his two male lovers whom he adopted. This was a common practice at that time for gay men so that upon his death, they could be his inheritors. Von Steuben was made an American citizen, and Washington thanked him for his "faithful and meritorious Services." Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division, Washington, D.C. The 'Bachelor' President James Buchanan. Every president has been married except for one. James Buchanan is not well-regarded today and often is low in presidential rankings. Aside from his terrible tenure, the fact most discussed about him is his bachelorhood. On top of this, Buchanan faced many gay rumors throughout his life. This was all due to his close relationship with William Rufus King, who served briefly as Vice President. Before Buchanan's presidency and King's vice presidency, the two lived together for over a decade in a DC boardinghouse. They earned the nicknames "Miss Nancy" and "Aunt Fancy," with King being referred to as Buchanan's "better half." While most of their correspondences were burned by their nieces, one letter that survives from Buchanan has offered plenty of speculation about his personal life. "I am now 'solitary & alone,'" Buchanan wrote, "having no companion in the house with me. I have gone a wooing to several gentlemen, but have not succeeded with any one of them."First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt attending the Pan American Day with her friend, Lorena Hickok. The presidents weren't the only ones to have queer stories and histories. So did the First Ladies. There's perhaps no more famous example of queer history in the White House than Eleanor Roosevelt. Early into their marriage, Eleanor and Franklin D. Roosevelt agreed to remain married following revelations about one of Franklin's affairs. However, the two served primarily as each other's professional partners more than anything romantic or sexual. This allowed for an "unconventional" and even "open" marriage. Eleanor had many close female friends throughout her life. One particularly close friendship was with journalist Lorena Hickok, with whom Elanor exchanged more than 3,000 letters. Historian Susan Quinn noted that these letters were filled with "longing and affection and needing each other, wanting to be with each other." Eleanor was also close with Marion Dickerman and Nancy Cook, who were lifelong partners and lived just two miles from the Roosevelts in Hyde Park, New York. But was Eleanor herself a lesbian? If you ask me, I would say bisexual, especially given her reported affair with one of her Secret Service agents, Earl Miller. Roosevelt's commitment to women's rights throughout her life was unequivocal, though. Eleanor said, "I became more of a feminist than I ever imagined." Corbis via Getty Images John F. Kennedy, "Dunker" the dog, and Lem Billings at the Hague, during their 1932 Europe trip. Kennedy and Kirk LeMoyne "Lem" Billings met at boarding school in Connecticut. Kenney and Billings had a particularly close relationship, with the two even going to Harlem with the intent of hiring a prostitute to share and lose their virginities to (Kennedy doing so; Billings did not). But for Lem, this was more than just a friendship. Historian Fredrik Logevall wrote, "At some point in the previous year, he had fallen in love with Jack." Terrified about the prospects of what an unreciprocated love may be like, Lem opted to drop a hint to Jack to see if there was mutual, romantic attraction. Logevall detailed in his book JFK how Lem wrote a note to the high school-aged Kennedy on a piece of toilet paper. This was a common practice for closeted gay men at the time, so the incriminating note could be quickly destroyed. While there's no way of knowing what was on the note, Kennedy's response is recorded. Kennedy responded to Lem, saying, "I'm not that kind of boy." But this didn't halt their friendship. "Jack was not a judgmental type of guy. He accepted his friends without passing judgment on them," a mutual friend of the two said. Kennedy and Billings embarked on a three-month European road trip together and even adopted a dog on their drive. They stayed friends for the rest of Kennedy's life, and he remained comfortable with Billings and his openness about his attraction toward men. James Kirkikis/shutterstock Queer history is U.S. history! Despite this rich queer history, today, we're seeing continued attacks on the LGBTQ+ community from the current president and his administration. There's a common myth amongst conservatives that queer identities are something new. But even our past presidents can attest that this is far from reality. Queer people have lived and breathed in the White House, have mentored presidents, and have been lifelong companions for others. This Presidents' Day, it's vital to highlight the history of presidents and those closest to them and how even from America's first president, we can and should celebrate the influence of queer people. is a queer writer, former elected official, and amateur historian who runs the Instagram account @thepresidentguy. He lives in is dedicated to featuring a wide range of inspiring personal stories and impactful opinions from the LGBTQ+ and Allied community. Visit to learn more about submission guidelines. We welcome your thoughts and feedback on any of our stories. Email us at voices@ Views expressed in Voices stories are those of the guest writers, columnists and editors, and do not directly represent the views of or our parent company, equalpride. Voices is dedicated to featuring a wide range of inspiring personal stories and impactful opinions from the LGBTQ+ and Allied community. Visit to learn more about submission guidelines. We welcome your thoughts and feedback on any of our stories. Email us at voices@ Views expressed in Voices stories are those of the guest writers, columnists and editors, and do not directly represent the views of or our parent company, equalpride.

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