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Daniel Garber at PAFA and the Michener (2nd review)
An artist who changed
with the American Century
ANNE R. FABBRI
The current retrospective exhibitions of paintings, drawings and etchings by Daniel Garber (1880–1958) at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts and the Michener Museum in Doylestown indicate a new maturity in our view of American art. We have stopped waving the banners of abstraction and now can put artists such as Daniel Garber in a historical perspective.
Garber and the other so-called New Hope Impressionists reflected a growing national consciousness that was in step with the literature, drama and music of the period: Think Aaron Copland, Carl Sandburg and Willa Cather. It was time for a second look and re-assessment. Did Garber ever merit all those awards and critical acclamations? Or does he represent middle-class culture in any era? The answer is surprising.
This first major Garber exhibition since the Academy’s retrospective in 1945 includes 100 oil paintings and 70 drawings and prints, divided chronologically between the two museums. The Academy exhibits work from Garber’s student days there through 1929; the Michener Museum, from 1930 until his death. And the better half of the pie is here in Philadelphia. The paintings, beautifully installed in the traditional galleries of the Frank Furness building— a fortuitous last-minute change of venue from the new Samuel V. Hamilton galleries, due to a technical malfunction—look much better than I remembered. Garber has finally emerged from the confines of New Hope Impressionism and all its provincialism. Now he’s an artist worth considering.
The prevailing route for artists of his day
Garber, born on a farm in Indiana, first escaped his rural confines and studied art at the Art Academy of Cincinnati. At the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts he was awarded a Cresson travel scholarship in 1905. But his subsequent trip to Paris, London and Florence didn’t radically change his vision. Returning to Philadelphia, still loyal to the style of his mentor Thomas Anshutz (who reflected the German landscape painting tradition) and Thomas Eakins at the Academy, Garber began his art career, first as an illustrator and then as a teacher at the Academy from 1909 until 1950. He concentrated on the prevailing route for artists of that period: entering work in museum exhibitions, garnering prizes and critical attention and having one’s work added to the collections of fledgling museums across the country. You can see what he painted in the Academy’s galleries: interior scenes of his houses in Philadelphia and New Hope, decorative figure studies recalling Whistler’s oeuvre and light-filled landscapes in a golden or silver tonality of Bucks County. It is as if Garber captured the sun and infused it into the core of walls, trees and stone.
Although he adopted techniques of French Impressionism, Garber rejected the idea of painting a fleeting moment in time. His subject matter was structured on reality tempered by artistic license that was conservative and classical. For Garber, the Armory Show of 1913 in New York— introducing Americans to the new movements in art, including Marcel Duchamp’s Urinal— never happened. He rode a wave crest of popularity fostered by the American public’s increasing sense of national identity. These landscapes burst with confidence in life itself. The buildings are securely rooted in the earth, the trees are abundant and lush, and there is a comfortable expanse of sky. The Quarry: Evening, a large oil painting from 1913-1920, is almost breathtaking, with the starkness of ruptured rock bathed in a golden tonality linking trees, earth and air.
Boring characteristics (that his public wanted)
Unfortunately, closer examination of Garber’s paintings reveals certain boring characteristics that preclude master status. Compositions are too often divided into three parallel planes: foreground, middle ground and background, with awkward progression. His figures occupy a shallow stage in the foreground, decorative but with no sense of imminent movement or corporeal substance under the clothing. His landscapes substitute trees for figures in the foreground; and in the 1920s Garber painted far too many Bucks County scenes with special focus on a tree in the right center foreground. This is what the public wanted, and he furnished it. In this period Garber was a happy, fulfilled artist and his work reflected it.
The exhibition at the Michener Museum in Doylestown reveals a more somber view of life from 1930 until his death in 1958. America, in the depths of depression followed by war, wasn’t the earthly paradise everyone had expected. Lives were harsh, cruel and filled with sorrow. Garber’s work was categorized as provincial and derided by the critics, if they deigned to write about him at all. He no longer garnered prizes and honors from all directions. Exuberance disappeared from his paintings; they became tight, dry and cautious.
That claustrophobic feeling
Looking at these landscapes, with their high horizon line, you feel as if the earth is closing in on you; you can’t breathe. The glowing tones of Garber’s earlier paintings have transformed into a more academic palette. Distant figures, generally viewed from the rear, populate his scenes of town and country. Although Garber is known to have destroyed many of his works throughout his life, you begin to feel as if he didn’t go far enough. However, put in perspective, they now represent an American innocence we can’t recapture. We can only look at it and marvel. History has changed us forever.
Originally I would have said that if you’re over 70 and/or voted Republican, you’d love these exhibitions. And I did indeed see many viewers who fit that description, especially at the Michener. But now I feel that Garber deserves a second look. We can’t recapture that national self-confidence, but we can look at it historically and appreciate its true representation of a half-century in our history. The locale might be specific, but the spirit expressed America.
As one elegant man expressed when leaving the museum, “It’s not great art, but this is what I like.” Enjoy.
To read a response, click here.
For another review by Andrew Mangravite, click here.
with the American Century
ANNE R. FABBRI
The current retrospective exhibitions of paintings, drawings and etchings by Daniel Garber (1880–1958) at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts and the Michener Museum in Doylestown indicate a new maturity in our view of American art. We have stopped waving the banners of abstraction and now can put artists such as Daniel Garber in a historical perspective.
Garber and the other so-called New Hope Impressionists reflected a growing national consciousness that was in step with the literature, drama and music of the period: Think Aaron Copland, Carl Sandburg and Willa Cather. It was time for a second look and re-assessment. Did Garber ever merit all those awards and critical acclamations? Or does he represent middle-class culture in any era? The answer is surprising.
This first major Garber exhibition since the Academy’s retrospective in 1945 includes 100 oil paintings and 70 drawings and prints, divided chronologically between the two museums. The Academy exhibits work from Garber’s student days there through 1929; the Michener Museum, from 1930 until his death. And the better half of the pie is here in Philadelphia. The paintings, beautifully installed in the traditional galleries of the Frank Furness building— a fortuitous last-minute change of venue from the new Samuel V. Hamilton galleries, due to a technical malfunction—look much better than I remembered. Garber has finally emerged from the confines of New Hope Impressionism and all its provincialism. Now he’s an artist worth considering.
The prevailing route for artists of his day
Garber, born on a farm in Indiana, first escaped his rural confines and studied art at the Art Academy of Cincinnati. At the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts he was awarded a Cresson travel scholarship in 1905. But his subsequent trip to Paris, London and Florence didn’t radically change his vision. Returning to Philadelphia, still loyal to the style of his mentor Thomas Anshutz (who reflected the German landscape painting tradition) and Thomas Eakins at the Academy, Garber began his art career, first as an illustrator and then as a teacher at the Academy from 1909 until 1950. He concentrated on the prevailing route for artists of that period: entering work in museum exhibitions, garnering prizes and critical attention and having one’s work added to the collections of fledgling museums across the country. You can see what he painted in the Academy’s galleries: interior scenes of his houses in Philadelphia and New Hope, decorative figure studies recalling Whistler’s oeuvre and light-filled landscapes in a golden or silver tonality of Bucks County. It is as if Garber captured the sun and infused it into the core of walls, trees and stone.
Although he adopted techniques of French Impressionism, Garber rejected the idea of painting a fleeting moment in time. His subject matter was structured on reality tempered by artistic license that was conservative and classical. For Garber, the Armory Show of 1913 in New York— introducing Americans to the new movements in art, including Marcel Duchamp’s Urinal— never happened. He rode a wave crest of popularity fostered by the American public’s increasing sense of national identity. These landscapes burst with confidence in life itself. The buildings are securely rooted in the earth, the trees are abundant and lush, and there is a comfortable expanse of sky. The Quarry: Evening, a large oil painting from 1913-1920, is almost breathtaking, with the starkness of ruptured rock bathed in a golden tonality linking trees, earth and air.
Boring characteristics (that his public wanted)
Unfortunately, closer examination of Garber’s paintings reveals certain boring characteristics that preclude master status. Compositions are too often divided into three parallel planes: foreground, middle ground and background, with awkward progression. His figures occupy a shallow stage in the foreground, decorative but with no sense of imminent movement or corporeal substance under the clothing. His landscapes substitute trees for figures in the foreground; and in the 1920s Garber painted far too many Bucks County scenes with special focus on a tree in the right center foreground. This is what the public wanted, and he furnished it. In this period Garber was a happy, fulfilled artist and his work reflected it.
The exhibition at the Michener Museum in Doylestown reveals a more somber view of life from 1930 until his death in 1958. America, in the depths of depression followed by war, wasn’t the earthly paradise everyone had expected. Lives were harsh, cruel and filled with sorrow. Garber’s work was categorized as provincial and derided by the critics, if they deigned to write about him at all. He no longer garnered prizes and honors from all directions. Exuberance disappeared from his paintings; they became tight, dry and cautious.
That claustrophobic feeling
Looking at these landscapes, with their high horizon line, you feel as if the earth is closing in on you; you can’t breathe. The glowing tones of Garber’s earlier paintings have transformed into a more academic palette. Distant figures, generally viewed from the rear, populate his scenes of town and country. Although Garber is known to have destroyed many of his works throughout his life, you begin to feel as if he didn’t go far enough. However, put in perspective, they now represent an American innocence we can’t recapture. We can only look at it and marvel. History has changed us forever.
Originally I would have said that if you’re over 70 and/or voted Republican, you’d love these exhibitions. And I did indeed see many viewers who fit that description, especially at the Michener. But now I feel that Garber deserves a second look. We can’t recapture that national self-confidence, but we can look at it historically and appreciate its true representation of a half-century in our history. The locale might be specific, but the spirit expressed America.
As one elegant man expressed when leaving the museum, “It’s not great art, but this is what I like.” Enjoy.
To read a response, click here.
For another review by Andrew Mangravite, click here.
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