Looking back to the Present

Something that lives rent free in my head is "history repeats itself". I always enjoyed history in school and then, studying art history and literature. Over and over and over again I see history repeating itself. These days I especially notice the parallels of our present to those of a hundred years ago (give or take): massive domestic and foreign upheaval, world changing new technologies, the push and pull of nostalgia, as well as the rejection of an idealized fantasy of the past. 

 

Robert Henri, Snow in New York, Oil on canvas, 1902. Image taken from The Art Story.

 

Bearing these things in mind, I am drawn back to the artists known as The Eight and the Ashcan School. Artist Robert Henri began a new tradition of painting in the early 1900s and opened a new school. Although the artists of the Ashcan School each had their own style, they were brought together by their approach to subject matter and the influence of their teacher, Henri. 

 

Dox Thrash, After the Lynching, Carborundum mezotint, 1938-39. Image taken from Dolan/Maxwell.

William Glackens, Descending From the Bus, Oil on canvas, 1910. Image taken from Village Preservation.

 

Many of the Ashcan School began their artistic career in journalism as newspaper illustrators (photography not being a feasible option at that time). Their journalistic work made them keen observers of people and daily current events. As each member began painting, they rejected the tradition of the National Academy. They did not paint the upper classes, idealize beauty, or dabble in Neoclassism--all signs of nostalgia at the time. Most Ashcan artists chose the poor and working class as their subject matter, and if the work wasn't always uncouth, it was at least pedestrian. 

 

John Sloan, The Haymarket, Sixth Avenue, Oil on canvas, 1907. Image taken from Brooklyn Museum.

 

Art is always a sign of the times. Authors in the early 1900s were writing about the working class and the gritty shoulders that commerce stood on. With new technologies, Marx's writing, and world wars, artists of all media started looking towards the poor rather than the rich. Their observations are past reflections that mirror our own time. A key difference between ourselves and the Ashcan artists is that we now take for granted the open ends of art. There's no National Academy dictating what art can and cannot be. Sketching or painting everyday life is typical, not exceptional. No subject matter is overly taboo for the art world. Electricity is the main light source of our subjects, and working from photo images is now a standard practice. 

 

George Luks, Salmon Fishing, Medway River, Nova Scotia, Oil on canvas, 1919. Image taken from Whitney Museum of American Art. 

 

George Bellows, Both Members of This Club, Oil on canvas, 1909. Image taken from Artsy.

Perception and observation is the lifeblood of art. How did the Ashcan artist see their subject, and how did the National Academy perceive those subjects as they continually rejected the artists from Academy exhibitions? Today, how do we currently perceive our personal worlds, memories, nostalgia, or future? In general, I think we get so swept up in the bombardment of culture wars and bleak outlooks that we don't do very much observing of the the reality that is tangible to us. How do we experience our actual, immediate surroundings of neighborhoods and people? Looking at the small, present moments of my day to day, what is real in my world, has been my subject matter from the beginning. In this I am tied to history, to the artists who saw those things, too, and am repeating it again.

 

Reginald Marsh, Tattoo and Haircut, Egg tempera on masonite, 1932. Image taken from Art Institvte Chicago.

 

 

 

 

 

Wayne, Craven, American Art: History and Culture (McGraw Hill Higher Education, 2003), 422-438.