L a - b e a u t é - s a u v e r a - l e - m o n d e ~ D o s t o ï e v s k i

L a - b e a u t é - s a u v e r a - l e - m o n d e  ~  D o s t o ï e v s k i



Friday, January 12, 2024

Artist in a landscape - a self-portrait by Cedric Morris, circa 1930

 

Sir Cedric Lockwood Morris, 9th Baronet (11 December 1889, Swansea – 8 February 1982, Hadleigh, Sussex), British artist, art teacher, and horticulturist. As an artist he is best known for his portraits, flower paintings, and landscapes. 


In 1918 he met Arthur Lett-Haines (2 November 1894, London - 25 February 1978, Hadleigh, Sussex) - Lett to his friends and acquaintances - a painter and sculptor (and, later, teacher), who had married just two years previously. Armistice had been declared and Lett-Haines and his American-born wife, Aimee, threw a party for similar "artistic" types; Morris was a guest. The two artists fell in love and shortly afterwards Morris moved in with Lett-Haines and Aimee. The trio planned to go to America together, but Aimee returned to American on her own the following year. The two men then moved to Cornwall. But they soon left for Paris where they spent the next six years, before returning to England, settling finally in Suffolk. Lett-Haines largely subordinated his own artistic career in deference to that of his more successful partner. In 1937, the pair founded the East Anglian School of Painting and Drawing; Lucian Freud was one of their best-known students. Despite the relationship's open nature that included attachments on both sides, Morris and Lett-Haines lived together until the latter's death, a union lasting some sixty years. They are buried near each other at Hadleigh Cemetery in Hadleigh.

Morris and Lett-Haines with the macaw Rubio, circa 1930. (I don't know the name of the other bird, sadly.)



Sunday, January 7, 2024

"You can ride my bike" - male pedal power in vintage photographs

 
Photograph by Lewis Hine, 1913.
Germain Ibron, circa 1904.
Photograph by Lewis Hine, 1910.
Photograph by Lewis Hine, 1914.
Lucien Choury, 1924.
Émile Aerts, 1919.
Photograph by Lewis Hine, 1913.
Photograph by Lewis Hine, 1913.
Bruno Demke, 1913.
Photograph by Lewis Hine, 1913.
Italian cyclist Luigi Pontecchi, circa 1898.
Photograph by Rudi Herzog, 1966.
Photograph by Lewis Hine, 1914.

*

While compiling these images I came across the work of Lewis Hines; some of his photographs of messenger boys are included here. There are more in this series at this link as well as information related to several of the boys. These and other of his images were instrumental in bringing into being the first child labor laws in this country. And here is the Wikipedia entry on this hugely important figure in the history of American sociology and photography.


Friday, January 5, 2024

"Unknown" - a portrait by Alexei Tyranov, circa 1840s

 

I'm always amazed - and, honestly, saddened - that so many wonderful portraits have come down to us only identified as "unknown." Often paintings by celebrated artists who were greatly admired in their own times as well as ours. One would think the pertinent information related to such works would be passed down. Or that the families of the portraits' subjects would make certain that their loved ones were remembered, identification affixed in some manner to the paintings, so their names would not be lost.


This charming, raven-haired young lady, elegant in black velvet and lace, is one who is lost. The upheaval of the Russian Revolution, at least, may explain her displacement and her lack of identity. I often do a surprising amount of research putting together posts here, probably much more than I need to. But it's something that excites my pedantic little brain; it's something I enjoy very much. And so when I come across a portrait I find particularly compelling, one that is merely labeled "unknown", I always wish there was a way for me to do the necessary research - not for blog posts, but for museum collections and the like, as a paying job, even? - and find that name, that history. I think I'd be quite happy to spend the rest of my days immersed in just that sort of endeavor.