N.C. Wyeth: New Perspectives

An essay by Erick Sahler

Norman Rockwell in 1961 painted “The Connoisseur,” a jab at the establishment that had recently been fawning over the Abstract Expressionists while calling his own paintings overly sentimental kitsch. The joke is, Rockwell’s painting of a painting of a splatter was so well done, Willem de Kooning said he had out-Jackson Pollocked the great Jackson Pollock.

Rockwell was generally dismissed by critics throughout his life. Clement Greenberg said, “You have to put Rockwell down, down below the rank of minor artist.”

Such is road of the illustrator. No matter their skill, talent or commitment to craft, the official opinions in the lofty towers will perpetually deride their decision to seek commercial success over artistic innovation.

N.C. Wyeth knew that well.

The man who came to Delaware to train with Howard Pyle,  the “Father of American Illustration,” was tormented by the idea that he was not accepted by the establishment as an Artist.

Wyeth grew enormously successful, popular and well-off on his string of illustrations for the Charles Scribner publishing house. His work for novels including “Robinson Crusoe” and “Treasure Island” are considered classics in the world of illustration. But Wyeth wanted to be seen as more — an Artist on the same plane as his heroes, including Winslow Homer and Rockwell Kent.

His attempts — and I found them to be outstanding — are on display through Sept. 15 (2019) at the Brandywine River Museum in Chadds Ford, Pa.

I admit to previously being no more than an occasional fan of Wyeth’s work. His scenes of cowboys and pirates — though extremely well executed — never spoke to my passions or interests. I’ve been a longtime admirer of the paintings of Wyeth’s son, Andrew, who wandered rural Chadds Ford and coastal Maine, painting the everyday people and their surroundings, somehow making the mundane seem monumental.

But there is much more to the Brandywine exhibit — called “N.C. Wyeth: New Perspectives” — than I expected. Wyeth experimented with a multitude of styles in search of a means to elevate his work in the eyes of critics. Up close and personal, his large classic illustrations are radiant both in their artistry and storytelling. However, it is Wyeth’s attempts at Impressionism and Minimalism that steal the show.

The long, overlapping impasto strokes in “September Afternoon” (1916), a large painting of a man herding cows, are breathtaking. I got absolutely lost in the overlapping colors that form the steep riverbank. Similarly, the shimmering flicks of cool blues and violets in “Buttonwood Farm” (1919) are pure visual magic.

Conversely, the subdues browns  — more stains than paint — of “April Rain” (1935) create a monotone dreamscape fantasy where everything is soft and quiet, the drudgery of another dull morning.

I was wrong and so were the critics of Wyeth in his day. The Brandywine show is proof. This illustrator was no one-trick pony. While his technical and narrative skills have long been praised, Wyeth’s artistic range has been overlooked, and exceeds many artists whose work hangs in major museums today.

“New Perspectives” is an eye-opener. N.C. Wyeth was, indeed, an Artist.

© Erick Sahler Serigraphs Co.

Up close, the shimmering flicks of cool blues and violets in N.C. Wyeth’s “Buttonwood Farm” (1919) are pure visual magic.

The subdues browns  — more stains than paint — of N.C. Wyeth’s “April Rain” (1935) create a monotone dreamscape fantasy where everything is soft and quiet, the drudgery of another dull morning.