"Greenland Winter,"
1934-35. Oil on canvas mounted on plywood courtesy of Jake
Milgram Wien.
Distant
Shores:
By Stephen May
CHICAGO, ILL. - A born individualist and master of many forms of
art, Rockwell Kent led a busy, peripatetic, and productive life.
His combative views on political and social issues of the day
often got him into trouble and overshadowed his artistic
achievements, but today he is recognized as one of the finest
realists of Twentieth Century American art.
At various times in his long life Kent (1882-1971) was a painter,
illustrator, printmaker, architectural draftsman, lobsterman,
carpenter, seaman, farmer, and advocate for progressive causes.
The diversity of his talents and the controversies that
surrounded his political activism tended to obscure appreciation
for the quality of his artwork in his lifetime. In particular,
Kent's outspoken admiration for the Soviet Union, repeatedly
expressed at the height of the Cold War, stirred much hostility
and damaged his standing.
As the Cold War recedes into history, several recent Kent
exhibitions have renewed admiration for the clear modernist
aesthetic of his landscapes and for the perception and clarity of
his graphic images. Several books published in the last few years
have provided insights into the artist's complex personality and
the quality of his oeuvre.
"Distant Shores: ," organized by The Norman Rockwell Museum at
Stockbridge, where it opened, and later seen at the Appleton
Museum of Florida State University, will be on view at the Terra
Museum of American Art through May 20, before concluding its tour
at the Anchorage Museum of History and Art, June 17 to September
23.
"Moby Dick, Chapter 41 (Moby Dick Rises)," 1930. Pen and india
ink on paper from the Spencer Collection, The New York Public
Library.
Guest curated by Constance Martin, research associate at the
Arctic Institute of North America at the University of Calgary in
Alberta, this exhibition of more than 90 paintings, drawings, and
prints features art inspired by Kent's frequent sojourns in
remote areas of the world. The exhibition catalogue, written by
Martin with essays by Richard V. West, director of the Frye Art
Museum in Seattle, is insightful and beautifully illustrated.
Two complementary shows, on view last year, added to the public's
opportunities to rediscover Kent. "The View from Asgaard:
Rockwell Kent's Adirondack Legacy," showcasing works of the
landscape around the painter's home near Au Sable Forks, N.Y.,
was mounted and seen at the Adirondack Museum in Blue Mountain
Lake, N.Y. Another exhibition at the Plattsburgh State Art
Museum, which houses a large permanent collection of Kent's work,
offered yet another glimpse into the artist's output.
Among other things, these shows documented Kent's extended
sojourns in Maine, Newfoundland, Alaska, Tierra del Fuego, and
Greenland. As art historian Alan Wallach has observed, "Life in
such forbidding settings sustained and intensified his original
vision of a relentless, unforgiving nature."
Even in those remote areas and especially at his final home in
the Adirondacks, Kent's stark, evocative style underscored his
affinity for each place. His crisp, modernist paintings and
austere, expressive graphic works reflect both his superb
artistic gifts and his grasp of the essentials of each setting.
Born into an affluent clan in Tarrytown, N.Y., Kent's father died
when he was young, leaving the family in a state of "genteel
poverty." (Other distinguished American artists born in that
vintage year of 1882 included painters George Bellows, Arthur B.
Carles, Edward Hopper, and N.C. Wyeth, and sculptors Gaston
Lachaise and Elie Nadelman.)
Kent developed artistic interests early, first at the Horace Mann
School in New York and then at Columbia University, where he
honed his draftsman's skills in architectural studies. After
studying painting with the celebrated William Merritt Chase at
Shinnecock Hills on Long Island, Kent dropped out of college to
pursue a career in art. Along with Bellows and Hopper, he studied
with realist Robert Henri at the New York School of Art,
absorbing their charismatic teacher's admonition to find
inspiration in the world around them.
Working with landscape painter Abbott Handerson Thayer in Dublin,
N.H., in 1903, Kent learned from his eccentric mentor the value
of living close to nature and the virtues of Spartan living in
cold climates. In 1908 Kent married Thayer's niece, Kathleen
Whiting, the first of his three wives.
In 1905 Henri introduced Kent, as he did Bellows, Hopper, and
other ambitious painters, to the awesome scenery and rugged
beauty of Monhegan Island. Located a few miles off mid-coast
Maine, it became a summer mecca for painters from around the
country.
Unlike most artists, Kent lived on the island all year 'round for
several years, permitting him to depict the isolated setting in
all its frigid, snowy glory. As he developed his art, he worked
as a handyman, lobsterman, and carpenter to make ends meet.
Inspired by the island's precipitous cliffs, pounding surf, and
forested landscape, Kent produced some of the most compelling
canvases of his career. In "Toilers of the Sea" (1907), one of
the great American seascapes, he underscored the hard life of
Monhegan fishermen as two men in each of two boats haul in their
catch while being buffeted by waves against the dramatic backdrop
of the island's towering cliffs. This painting is a treasured
possession of the New Britain Museum of American Art.
The dark wooden shacks at the water's edge, contrasted with the
blue-shadowed, snow covered landscape, convey the frozen
stillness of the place in "Winter, Monhegan Island" (1907). This
beauty is in the permanent collection of the Metropolitan Museum
of Art. It epitomizes the observation of estimable art historian
Lloyd Goodrich that Kent's "early Monhegan paintings, with their
uncompromising clarity, their concentration on the stark forms of
the island, and their romantic delight in great expanses of sea,
cold northern sky, and brilliant light, were among his most
moving works."
The stark, frieze-like arrangement of figures saying farewell to
Monhegan fishermen setting off to work in "Down to the Sea"
(1910) suggested the poignancy of the moment and the perils that
might lie ahead. Kent utilized a similar composition for a
funeral procession for one who died at sea in "Burial of a Young
Man" (circa 1908-11). Set in barren island locations and peopled
by somewhat ethereal figures reminiscent of the dreamscapes of
Arthur B. Davies, these paintings capture the emotions and
potential tragedies for all linked to men who go down to the sea
in ships.
Kent left Monhegan amidst controversy and did not return for many
years. His wanderlust soon led to even more bleak sites.
Kent's study of architecture and draftsman's talents fitted him
well for graphic art. He never wanted this work to compete with
his career as a painter, but it provided needed income for much
of his life. Before World War I he began contributing drawings to
such fashionable magazines as Harper's, Puck, and
Vanity Fair.
In 1914, Kent took his wife and three young children to
Newfoundland, hoping to find an Arcadian way of life and launch
an art school. Ensconced in a little fishing village, the artist
reveled in proximity to the sea and the area's unspoiled nature.
Kent's feisty personality, socialistic views and open admiration
for German culture aroused animosity among local residents, who
suspected he was a German spy. With anti-German sentiment growing
as World War I approached, Kent invited further enmity by posting
a sign on his studio door, already decorated with a German eagle,
that read "Bomb Shop, Wireless Plant, Chart Room." Before long
the family was ordered to leave Newfoundland.
Frustrated by a long spell of inclement weather and his dust-ups
with the locals, Kent produced subdued, almost melancholy
paintings of his brief stay. His affinity for the visionary art
of William Blake is suggested by a dreamscape, "Pastoral" (1914),
in which a softly rounded human figure and three lambs are posed
against a rich green landscape and deep blue sea.
Kent's exposure to the rigors of Monhegan and Newfoundland
whetted his appetite for the grand austerities and solitude of
the frozen north. In 1918 he took his nine-year-old son with him
to tiny Fox Island in Resurrection Bay, south of Seward, Alaska.
For nearly a year they lived a Spartan existence in an abandoned
cabin, using wood for warmth and goats for milk.
In this remote setting the Kents were confronted with intense
northern cold - and the artist found challenging new scenery to
paint. "It is a fine life," he wrote in a letter, "and more and
more I realize that for me such isolation as this... is the only
right life for me."
Canvases like "Frozen Falls, Alaska" (1919) convey his awe at the
snow-covered expansiveness of the area. In a somewhat surreal
image, "Voyagers, Alaska" (1919-23), three nude seamen look
across an expanse of cold, blue water toward a ghostly sailing
vessel framed by snow-capped peaks. An idealized guardian angel
floats overhead. "The angel is perhaps sustaining the faith of
the explorers as they dream of discovering a distant shore," says
Martin.
In a similarly dream-like image, "Night Wind" (1919), an angelic
nude form soars over icy seas and snowy glaciers. "The Alaska
paintings," observes Martin, "...reflect Kent's continuing search
for a personal spiritual vocabulary."
At the suggestion of print expert Carl Zigrosser, Kent created a
series of wood carvings to illustrate a narrative of his sojourn,
Wilderness: A Journal of Quiet Adventure in Alaska (1920).
Publication of the book and an exhibition of his paintings at the
prestigious Knoedler Gallery in Manhattan established Kent as a
prominent American artist.
After settling with his family for a while in Connecticut and New
York, the restless artist decided on impulse to take a freighter
to Tierra del Fuego, attracted by its famously foul weather and
the difficulty of getting there.
On that bleak archipelago off the southern tip of South America,
he and a seaman he had met on the voyage down undertook an
extraordinary trek on foot through the mountains to Ushuaia, the
southernmost town in the world. They were, according to Martin,
"Possibly the first white men to accomplish this feat," and as a
result, at the end the natives "greeted them like celebrities."
In his hand-colored woodcut commemorating this feat, "Voyaging
(Self-Portrait and The Wayfarer)" (1924), Kent depicted himself
as a sturdy, heroic figure, backed by trees and snow-capped
mountains. This image helped illustrate his book-length narrative
of his Tierra del Fuego adventures, Voyaging: Southward from
the Strait of Magellan (1924).
Kent's appreciation for the rivers, lakes, and mountainous
terrain of the region was reflected in several stark, simplified
paintings, such as "Azapardo River" (1922) and "Mountain Lake -
Tierra del Fuego" (circa 1923), which seem more tranquil than the
actual scenes Kent must have observed. Both were acquired by his
great admirer, collector and museum founder Duncan Phillips. They
are now among the dozen Kent works in the grand Phillips
Collection in Washington, D.C.
The artist's travels and extended absences heightened tensions
within his marriage. In 1925 Kent was divorced by Kathleen. The
following year Frances Lee became his second wife.
To support his large, extended family Kent took on various
commercial assignments, most famously pen-and-ink illustrations
for an edition of Herman Melville's Moby-Dick, published
by R.R. Donnelley and Sons Company in 1930. In creating the most
important illustrations of his career, the artist drew on his own
adventures at sea and his mature skills as a draftsman to
elaborate on his take on nature and man's destiny in the context
of Melville's epic tale.
Applying both high skill and fastidious technique to this task,
Kent produced some of the finest wood engravings ever done by an
American. Influenced by Blake's transcendental visions and
artfully balancing realism and symbolism, he created strong
images that enhanced Melville's gripping text. In a typically
powerful illustration, "Moby Dick Rises," the great white whale
explodes above the surface of the water, exuding menacing force.
As West points out in a catalogue essay, "In his hands, wood
engraving took on a modern sleek appearance, with solid black
shapes and beautifully supple white lines." Kent's work in this
medium, gracing innumerable books, is immediately recognizable to
this day.
His more than 270 compelling illustrations helped make
Moby-Dick a great success, doing much to restore
Melville's reputation and placing the artist in the forefront of
American illustrators.
In 1927 Kent purchased a 200-acre farm just outside the village
of Au Sable Forks, N.Y. It became his home for the rest of his
life. In a verdant meadow, ringed by the distant Adirondacks
mountains, Kent built a comfortable house and large white barns.
He called the place "Asgaard," after the Norse word for "home of
the gods."
"Facing westwards we look from a window across a sea of treetops
to lofty, solitary Mt. Whiteface ten miles away," Kent wrote of
Asgaard. "[S]o far removed are the house and its immediate
surroundings from any traveled road or neighboring farm that one
feels the whole estate to be a world unto itself."
Kent eventually established a thriving dairy business, and
depicted the picturesque setting, in all seasons, in a series of
striking paintings. Indeed from the 1940s on Kent's paintings
focused on evocative views of his beloved Adirondacks farm and
the magnificent scenery of that lovely area of upstate New York.
He depicted the farm and the surrounding countryside, which
remain relatively unchanged today, in precise, affectionate
images featuring picturesque buildings and unspoiled nature. They
made for a beautiful exhibition last year at the Adirondack
Museum.
In 1929 Kent made the first of three visits to Greenland, a place
he came to love. On his first trip he crewed on a small boat,
barely surviving a shipwreck and an arduous three-day walk on
foot over difficult terrain to reach rescuers. For a time he
settled in a small village, soaking up the native atmosphere and
making many friends. Out of this experience came paintings and
his third illustrated book N by E (1930).
Kent returned in 1931-32 and 1934-35, living among the natives,
creating art and gathering material for more books. His exposure
to the Intuits and their way of life intensified his appreciation
for the overpowering forces of nature and the glory of the
optical effects of polar light.
"Those Arctic nights: how wonderful they were! The frozen sea,
the land, the mountain-sides and peaks all white and gleaming in
the moonlight or the light of stars and the aurora," he wrote in
his autobiography, It's Me O Lord (1955).
That awe and Kent's empathy for the land and its people animated
his many canvases of panoramic, wintry landscapes and depictions
of natives. The silent white majesty of the arctic terrain -
mountains, cliffs, and glaciers - dominate the Greenland
landscapes. The sense of nature's immensity and man's
insignificant place in it is palpable. As Kent biographer Fridolf
Johnson once wrote, "Perhaps no other American artist before him
so graphically expressed the sense of remoteness and awesome
splendor of the Arctic."
In "Greenland People, Dogs and Mountains" (1932-35), the peaks
looming in the background, beautifully reflected in the
blue-green water, dwarf the figures in the woman's boat (umiak)
in the foreground. A sense of industry and silence pervades the
scene in the boat as the sturdy women bend to their tasks,
seemingly oblivious of the glorious setting of their labors.
Kent's portrayals of members of his adopted Greenland community -
young and old, at work and leisure, courting and hunting -
reflect his close observation of the life around him. They range
from the chubby, sleeping child in a watercolor, "Helena" (circa
1932), to "Greenland Hunter (The Kayaker)" (1933), a lithograph
in which a muscular man walks across frozen terrain toting the
simple tools of his trade.
Kent's favorite subject was his loyal housekeeper/mistress
Salamina, who joined him in the small, one-room house he built
himself. They entertained frequently and were invited to local
homes. In one particularly lovely watercolor, "Gutip Sernigiliet
Kalatdlit (God Bless the Greenlanders)" (1932), he depicted her
as a colorfully garbed angelic figure gracefully ascending to the
heavens. Salamina appeared in numerous paintings and in drawings
and poetic descriptions in the book that bears her name,
published in 1935.
Kent continued to paint Greenland's beautiful, stark landscape
and its hardy people until his death. It "was for Kent an island
of magic," concludes Martin. Kent's artwork, documenting a
culture now largely lost to advancing civilization, represents
the largest body of work in his oeuvre.
In spite of his extended absences from the art world for sojourns
in the north, Kent maintained a position of prominence on the
American art scene. An astute publicist about his overseas
wanderings, he kept himself in the public eye through books and
illustrations chronicling his adventures.
His celebrity helped attract a steady stream of well-paying
commercial work. With a wife and ex-wife, a stepson and five
children to support, as well as a farm to operate, he approached
these assignments with characteristic vigor and skill. The
advertisements, book designs, and illustrations he created in the
1930s were plentiful and widely admired. Bread-and-butter
assignments ranged from ads for automobiles, light bulbs, and
paints to illustrations for Beowulf, Paul Bunyan
and The Canterbury Tales.
His lithographs and posters regularly reflected his strong views
on social and political issues. They often featured depictions of
heroic workers and laborers and common men and women as victims
of a greedy capitalist system.
As a young man, Kent embraced socialism, to which belief he
remained faithful throughout his long life. He joined picket
lines, protested injustices at home and abroad, and was active in
numerous organizations on the American Left.
Divorced by his second wife, Frances, in 1940, Kent shortly
thereafter married Shirley (Sally) Johnstone. At 26, she was over
three decades his junior. As West observes, Sally "provided him
with the youthful vigor and support he needed... to face the
vicissitudes of the coming decades."
Stormy times did indeed lie ahead. From 1940 on Kent was
increasingly vocal in his support for the Soviet Union and his
opposition to American foreign policy. In 1948 he conducted a
clearly hopeless campaign for Congress on the American Labor
Party ticket. He was often accused of being a Communist.
As the Cold War heated up, the artist was called before Senator
Joseph McCarthy's Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations.
During a heated exchange with the pugnacious anti-Communist
Senator from Wisconsin, Kent took the Fifth Amendment when asked
whether he was or ever had been a member of the Communist Party.
Outside the hearing room Kent denied that he was a party member,
but his unconventional views cost him many friends and admirers,
and he was shunned by the art and museum establishments.
Undaunted, he continued to pursue left-wing activities with
fervor and panache. Denied a passport, Kent carried an appeal all
the way to the Supreme Court, which in effect ruled, after eight
years of litigation, that his right to travel abroad should be
confirmed and his passport restored.
Kent's strident political opinions and his starkly realistic art
generated great admiration in the Soviet Union, where a major
exhibition of his work drew enthusiastic crowds in the late
1950s. In 1960, angered by his continued rejection at home, he
gave a large collection of his paintings and many works on paper
"to the people of the Soviet Union." Distributed to major museums
in Russia and Armenia, they continue to be displayed there to
this day. A few have returned for exhibition in this country
since the end of the Cold War. The bulk of what became known as
"The Great Kent Collection," including 80 superb paintings, have
unfortunately been lost forever for viewing by most Americans.
In 1969, Kent's property in the Adirondacks was struck by
lightning. The house and much artwork were destroyed by fire. The
artist made plans to build a new house, but suffered a stroke and
died in 1971. He was nearly 89 years old.
Kent's death was front-page news in The New York Times,
but much of the obituary was devoted to his political
involvements rather than his art achievements. Clearly, his
multi-faceted gifts as writer, illustrator, graphic designer, and
painter - and his flamboyant leftist views - hindered proper
evaluation of his oeuvre during and immediately after his life.
"Gutip Sernigiliget Kaladlit (God Bless the Greenlanders,"
1932. Watercolor over traces of graphite, courtesy of Jake
Milgram Wien.
Three decades after his death, with the distractions surrounding
his career removed, it is possible to recognize that his
paintings and graphic work deserve to be ranked among the finest
achievements in American art of the last century. Kent's clear,
starkly modernist evocations of the landscapes of Maine and the
Adirondacks and the northern climes he visited hold up well,
placing him among the best American realists of the Twentieth
Century.
Distant Shores: , the title of the fine catalogue
accompanying the Terra exhibition, contains a useful text by
curator Martin and essays by West. The 128-page book, lavishly
illustrated, was published by the University of California Press
in association with the Norman Rockwell Museum. It will be a
welcome addition to the libraries of Kent's numerous fans.
Also treasured by Kent aficionados will be the 76-page,
illustrated catalogue published in connection with last year's
show at the Adirondack Museum. The View from Asgaard: Rockwell
Kent's Adirondack Legacy, with essays by the museum's chief
curator, Caroline M. Welsh, and Kent authority Scott R. Ferris,
was published by the Adirondack Museum.
Ferris also co-authored, with Ellen Pearce, Rockwell Kent's
Forgotten Landscapes, which chronicles and illustrates
paintings Kent gave to the Soviet Union. Published in 1998 by
Down East Books of Camden, Me., the 97-page book makes for
interesting reading and contains many color reproductions.
The Terra Museum of American Art is at 664 North Michigan
Avenue. For information, 312-654-2255.
