Speaking of Culture…
It seems to be in bloom these days…
Culture! Culture! everywhere! Perhaps, it’s the change of weather that has brought it about.
After all, my daughter is watching “Dancing with the Stars” and my p.c., unfortunately, is in the room where it’s playing.
Boy, can that Jerry Springer cut a rug.
And, just last week, I saw Peter Frampton..’Live.’
Oh. I bet Rob’s jealous now: How can Atlanta compete with culture like that?
Okay, not so much.
Well, we J’villians do possess a couple of gems or two and yesterday I had the pleasure of an early quit and so headed over to gawk and awe for a couple of hours.
The Cummer Museum of Art and Gardens is tucked away on the shore of the St. Johns River along an oak-lined street in Riverside, just a mile or so from downtown Jax. Originally opened in 1961 with only a small collection of sixty pieces donated by Arthur and Ninah Cummer, it is now possesses a collection of more than six thousand pieces. And, on Tuesday…courtesy of one of the baby Bells, admission is free. I went alone as I find it impossible to take in art with someone yapping in my ear about their day at work or the color of poo that their particular darling has produced as of late.
I once visited the Cummer on a rather frequent basis. My daughter attended a performing arts school for eight years and quite a few performances were held at the Cummer. It has, however, I’m ashamed to say, been years since I’ve passed through its doors. Entering the museum, I turned left and came upon a few pieces of a beautiful silver tea service and a sandwich glass water service.
It was at this point that I wondered “Oh dear…is this as good as it gets?” Perhaps it had been too long, for I had forgotten.
What awaited me was two hours of what might, to a passerby, have appeared a rather clumsy waltz…four steps forward, four steps back.
The first room I entered contained art of a mostly religious nature; testimony to the passion and devotion, not to mention, brilliance, of men who lived centuries ago. I passed from there to the ‘Baroque’ room wherein I found myself stunned…literally stunned..on more than one occasion, virtually unable to remove myself from my place in front of one work, in order to view another: Rubens ‘The Lamentation of Christ’, Sir Peter Lely’s ‘The Countess of Radnor’, and another painting, commonly titled ‘The Miserly Woman’ by an artist who’s name escapes me. Winding through a series of rooms I came upon Whistlers and Sargents, Bouguereau’s ‘Return from the Harvest’, a Renoir bronze, and a Degas etching, yet I was still carrying around the mixed feelings of lightness and dread from the Baroque room and thus headed into their beautiful gardens to clear my mind. After relaxing for a few moments in the shade of beautiful oak tree, I headed back indoors, and into the ‘’American’ room. There, I found myself performing what had by then become an exercise in muscle memory, four steps back, four steps forward, when I turned to face the opposite wall and saw first the pieces that I’ve yet to shake.
Perhaps, it was the contrast between the two, perhaps it was planned that way, but hanging side-by-side were a Rockwell and a Curry. The simplistic style of Norman Rockwell, the Kapra-cornyishness about his works, within the same straight-ahead range of vision as the dark and haunting Curry..an obvious study in contrast. Rockwell’s ‘Second Holiday’ depicts an elderly couple sitting on a bench, dressed in their Sunday best, seemingly awaiting a bus, or perhaps a train. I could easily have overlooked the Rockwell, but was drawn in when I noticed the neatly hidden expressions upon the couples faces: He, awkwardly holding his head up high, while his eyes were cast downward, she, looking straight ahead, the lower part of her face seeming to have recently escaped a heavy sigh and her eyes, upon closer examination, revealing a mixture of strength and worry. I backed away and looked again, at which point I saw a man, dressed in white, a stethescope dangling from his hand, was nearly hidden from view, and I appreciated more the talent of Norman Rockwell. From there I moved right, to stand in front of the Curry.
John Steuart Curry, I’ve sinced learned, was at once beloved and hated in his home state of Kansas. His works exhibited the simple, and not so simple existence of life in the Midwest and did so in a way that was both simple and, not so simple all at once. When asked to paint his murals upon the walls of the state capitol, he did so in his usual style, and found himself ridiculed and run out on a rail. His wife claimed that it was his heartbreak at the events of that time which drove him to his death in 1946 at the ripe old age of 49. The Cummer painting clearly sheds light upon what surely must have been aghast reaction at a time when, following the first world war, there would have been intense criticism of anyone who questioned the act of war or the remnants thereafter.
‘Parade to War: Allegory’, is not the same painting as ‘Parade to War’ and I suppose that it’s those differences which make the image nearly impossible to obtain on the web. I try to imagine the controversy it must have created in 1941 when it was painted.
The image, for those of you have not seen it, is complex in a way that is difficult to convey. While most obvious in its statement and painted in a ‘cartoonish’ manner it, for me, provoked very intense emotions. The painting depicts a scene wherein our soldiers are marching to war. All around them are children gathering streamers and crowds of people cheering them on. The soldiers, standing proud and tall, march toward what we now know as a victory in the most unimaginable fashion. The first thing you notice about the painting is the couple marching in line; a soldier and his girl. She, in a soft white dress, he in his uniform. You do not see her face, but the position of her head and the natural flow of her body suggest that she sees nothing but the love of him, as his affection is seen in the way he marches taller than the others, seeming to puff up in the pride of having her on his arm. He glances down at her with a softness of expression that most no one could ever have hoped to achieve upon the skeletal image that was his face. It’s a haunting image and it caused me to look away again and again. The feeling I got as I stood there was that of seeing what no one else in the scene could see; death..of spirit, life as they knew it, of, even, their souls. I’m not certain whether Curry knew of the impending war when he painted it, or if he was simply making a statement about the act of war itself but, now, looking at it with the knowledge of what occurred over the next several years, it has grown in its power to affect.
Too long in a room with Mr. Rockwell might have provoked a gagging gesture, and almost any time spent in a room with J.S. Curry would have resulted in a furious political fight, but there is no denying that, even today, decades after they have departed this earth, they are very much on my mind.
Admittedly, I am no artist. Hell, I’ve never even taken a liberal arts class, but as it goes…”I may not know art, but I know what I like” and I think that the person who decided to display these two pieces together is brilliant and I’m incredibly proud that our little local gem has had the foresight to seek out these wonderful works.
I will return again this weekend, once again, to stand in awe.
P.S. After hours (!) of searching, I’ve yet to locate an image of Mr. Rockwell’s ‘Second Holiday’, but finally managed to find a link to a print of the Curry. When the site comes up, simply search for ‘Parade to War’ or item # 1075-224. You’ll recognize it when you see it.
Of course, you must find your way to Jax to see them some time soon.