Defining a Genre: George Caleb Bingham and Genre Painting

When the American Art Union set out to up the standards of American artwork it sought specifically scenes of everyday life in addition to the great high-minded historical painting. One artist capitalized on this trend of "everyday life" paintings in ways few others had or have.

George Caleb Bingham

Born in Virginia Bingham was entirely self taught through copy books and studying prints of old masters. In a way he perfected his triangular composition to an extent that you can usually see the triangles before the painting.

Fur Traders Descending the Missouri.
Nature, Half-breed, European.
The wild animal is one of the big contentions in American Western Art.
It is obviously a cat, a fox, a bearcub, right? Obviously.

He began his work more or less with a series of flatboatman paintings. Bu the time he was painting these scenes of jolly flatboatman, or raftsmen playing cards, steamboats had all but replaced the flatbottom boat as the means of transport of goods and people along the river. Industrious boatmen still made a living as lighters--boats that would take on the stores of a steamboat that had run aground on a sandbar in order to make it lighter to refloat, or wood boats--periodical filling stations for the boiler fuel that paddled the steamships.


Bingham's images may seem simple, but they bely a keen observation to politics, a topic which Bingham held more than a passing interest. He ran as a whig and was defeated on decision, he was forever suspicious os squatter's right to vote (temporary votes at best and temporary democratic votes at worst), as well as democrats reluctance to provide funding for improvements such as roads and removing snags and clearing sandbars along the river to aid in expedient and issue-less trade transportation. This background makes Bingham's Lighter painting more politically charged than it seems at first glance.

The Jolly Boatman. Merriment dancing, giant triangular composition.

Jolly Flatboatman in Port. Steamships looming in the background.
Bingham also reused characters--Quite a bit actually.

Raftsmen Playing Cards. Whittling, drinking waiting. 

The Woodboat. Steamship in the distance. Refueling stations. 

Another Woodboat family. The sun is setting on the image and their way of life

Lighter Relieving the Steamboat Aground. Bingham's commentary of Jackson and the dirty penny pinching democrats. 

Watching the Cargo. Another steamship in peril. Once the ship was lightened and refloated it could be reloaded, until then, someone had to protect the cargo. 

Bingham also portrayed simple western life as well as laconic riverlife that followed cultural heroes like Mark Fink and the literary waterworld of Mark Twain.

Shooting for a Beef. Like a turkey shoot, but a much larger price.

Bingham's Shooting for a Beef depicted a standard western fair of folks meeting at the civic center of the town (they are at the Post Office). A little bit of civilization settling down and making something of themselves. It is also a fine example of the growing roles that dogs played in Bingham's paintings. He would use them as a quasi Greek Chorus to set the mood or tone of an image without specifically setting it within his human characters. 

The Squatters on the other hand offers nothing to be trusted, admired, or appreciated. They are temporary exploiters of the land (and democracy). Even the dog want's to know what you want. 

The Squatters. Don't you get the feeling you are bothering them? 

 Bingham's election series are as powerful political commentary as any text from the mid 19th century. He follows the backslapper and handshaker from the dark rooms into the honest open, to the public debates, the election and the final announcement. 

Country Politician. Ripe with backroom promises and uninterested parties not to mention the little (little?) American Buddha of politics. 

Canvassing for a Vote. out of doors and on the road, Bingham repeats his earlier composition with a little more well to do voter, road-weary politician, Buddha of Politics, uninterested window-gazer, and one thoroughly bored canine. It does feel more open, if not necessarily more honest. 

Stump Speaking. The town is all out, but not all interested. Some AAU critics claimed this was "too busy." In the end though the Art Union paid $350 for this painting which was the highest ever paid for a Bingham.  

The County Election. Drinks are given for votes, votes are given to drunks (see the man helping his friend in line) swearing in, hat tips, bible oaths, it is all here. Even the literal marginalization of the African American serving the drinks. Something that Bingham will use to greater effect in his last election painting.  

Verdict of the People is almost as busy as his Stump Speaking. See the Jolly Boatman on the right, red neckerchief and all? The central figure is the forlorn African American man situation directly under the flag. Unable to vote, his future is at the mercy of his fellow man. Less obvious are the women on the balcony in the top right waiving their "Remember the Women" banner. They are serving watermelon, and that guy does have on at least three hats. 

 Bingham's depictions of the simple life were anything but. They are full of symbolism, allegory, and outright political commentary. Something to remember as you peruse art museum and look at the various collections. Remember what was going on at the time these were created, who was creating them (Bingham's Whig disposition influences a lot), and try to situate them historically. You will get more out of them than simple aesthetics these series and this artist are some of the strongest examples of what the AAU was trying to accomplish and sum up AAU President Prosper Wetmore's quote which I will end with:

"Pictures are more powerful than Speeches"

--Prosper Wetmore

President of the

American Art Union

PS: For those close enough to make it to Fort Worth the fabulous Amon Carter Museum of American Art is premiering a George Bingham exhibit called Navigating the West: George Caleb Bingham and the River on October 2, 2014. The exhibit will run until January 18, 2015 and will then travel on to Saint Louis Art Museum (Feb 22-May 17, 2015) and close out in the MET in New York (June 15-September 20, 2015). There will be examples of Bingham's copious sketches on hand next to the finished product. Looks like a grand view into the workings of his mind. It is my plan to make it down there next month and hopefully have an update. 

The Artist and the Sportsman

If you are ever presented with a painting featuring some buckskin clad fur trappers in one or more familiar romantic composition, serve up a guess that it was painted by Alfred Jacob Miller and you will be correct more often than not. In fact, Miller was the only painter of his generation to paint the fur trade, so if you know that the painting in question was created in the early 19th century, you would be right 99.99% of the time.

roasting the buffalo hump rib

Bourgeois and his squaw

Quintessential and typical composite of the mountain man/trapper

The real fun (at least for me) comes with Miller's artist renderings of the hunting and traveling experiences of his patron William Drummond Stewart. The 2nd born to scottich nobility came west to lead the adventurers life and kill everything that moved. He had met Prince Max and Karl Bodmer some years before and may have gotten the idea of hiring an artist accompanist from Max's scientific expedition. Bodmer was there to document the science of Prince Max's expedition while Miller was on hand to document the sport of Stewart's and the last of the largest gathering of traders in the United States. Stewart had friends all over the continent and entertained many, including high ranking Native Americans in a large striped tent complete with Persian rugs. 

William Drummond Stewart, Scottish Nobility, sportsman, and Miller's patron

Antione Clement, hunter, guide, scout, etc for the Stewart expedition

Miller painted a few versions of this story. 

Shaman said they could fight the whiteman but not strike the first blow, Stewart held his cool and his men and avoided war. He did move enough to shake his stir the flap o n his coat. 

Pipestone, Peeved Buffalo, and Painted Centaurs

Many pages have been written about George Catlin. The grand total falls somewhere close to an acre of  paper timber (I completely made that up so don't go putting it in your Catlin notes). That hyperbole is, in all actuality, probably a low estimate. Many more megabytes of data have been used on blogs and digital storage of some of his famous Indian paintings. If you ever get a chance you should look more in depth than here about his life, his showmanship, his critics, and his art. One day I hope to have a short post with some of his South America art too, but that is for a later time.

These are not a representative sample of his work, nor are they his best, or most reproduced. They are a few that we have seen in the course I am taking that have stood out to me for various reasons.

He Who Outjumps All 

A lot of grandiose and romantic literature will refer to (some of) the Indians as the people of the horse in some manner as this "and horse and rider moved as one." Here, Catlin has painted that. It is almost centaur-like in the combination. (Interesting anatomical sidenote: Centaurs would have two sets of ribs.) The headresses, the flowing of the tail and hair, the fringe and the mane are all this surreal symbiotic existence between man and beast. The horse is also dressed up in finery that is far from traditions Indian style. The breast collar, the rump cover, and even the bridle are all of Spanish origin. Here, secondary to the original intent (I say as if I have talked personally with Catlin about it) is evidence of a far reaching trade relationship between the high plains and the American Southwest. Now, you may or may not know how good the Spanish are (were) with horses. Many even fashioned their own versions of Spanish gear. 

The Little Spaniard

Staying with our Spanish theme for one more image is Catlin's The Little Spaniard or His-oo-san--chees. This spanish child raised into full Indianhood strikes a traditional Greco-Roman pose with all his accessories. The fun behind this one is the name. Take a moment and say pronounce the name outloud, slowly, and then more quickly and see how long it takes you to realize it is Catlin phonetics for Hizo Sanchez. 

Buffalo Bull Grazing

Here Catlin has captured a Buffalo (yes I know it is Bison, there is a Far Side comic for you people) in a general state of agitation, and most definitely not grazing. At some point Catlin had wounded one in a hunt such that it could not charge or cause the artist harm and he circled it on horseback sketching the various moods. When the model grew tired, or held a pose longer than Catlin required he would throw something at him to agitate him more. He mentioned doing this with his hat. I am sure they later ate the buffalo that was killed as this was before the railroad sport and bio-warfare on the Indians dropped their numbers to critical extinction levels.

The Pipestone Quarry
(don't you love how someone can copyright an image that was painted almost two centuries ago?)

 I end this with a salute to those who study the smallest bits of the earth. Catlin was fortunate enough to see the quarries from whence the raw material for making the famous Indian pipes were created. The pipestone, alternately pipeclay is, for those keeping geological score, an argillite, that is a metamorphosed mudstone. Here Catlin has caught the scene at the mine, in a rough and almost martian landscape. The previous shards and layers split out around the quarry site with the hughe rock formations off to the right (note the tiny figure for scale, I think he is even pointing at it for you). These particular quarry was the first ever seen but white eyes and was in what is present day Minnesota. Other veins exist in Utah and a few other places, but this specific earthly concoction now bears the name Catlinite in the artist's honor. Once again art and science come together reminding is why we have Colleges of Arts AND Sciences not Colleges of Arts OR Sciences.

Now go spend some time on Google Images looking at all of Catlin's works.

Books that Inspire, or Good Reads...

I was most recently tagged in one of those social media chain letters asking to produce a number of books that make my "good reads" list. I saw someone else post it the day before as the 10 (I think) books that changed your life. I think about these whenever I see them, even if I am not tagged, but being tagged with a separate set of list instructions really put me to thinking about reading, and the books that I have.

My library. Really choose only a handful? I have read completely about 75% of these.
Most of the rest are for reference.

   For me, at least, I find it hard to not say that every book you read has changed your life. That impact may be imperceptible, but just as you can never cross the same river twice, you cannot possibly be the same person you were after finishing a book. Whether you loved it or hated it, or even didn't finish it, it has left its mark upon you in some way.

In an attempt to be reflective on my own reading experiences as well as subversive to the Facebook list chain letter that I am sure was started by a poor unfortunate Nigerian prince just before he set out on the ill-fated journey in which his car wrecked and he left a sizable inheritance to me, I will do both, but with my own rules and parameters.

There are the classics that I have read, because in my 5th grade mind, the classics were what everyone should know. I tackled Moby Dick because it was huge. (If Charlie Brown could read War and Peace, I could read Moby Dick) It was a herculean task for the summer between 5th and 6th grades. I had already read 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea because my grandfather had said it was his favorite book. I have read it at least twice since then and I find myself still sympathizing with Nemo. To be honest I was in awe of Captain Ahab's blind ambition to a goal, damned the cost of life, limb, and/or money. I think that is because I never had anything that I was that passionate about. Even today, people that fuss over a certain show, a certain book series, or a certain pop culture entity both fascinate and on some basal level repulse me.

To this day The Wind in the Willows remains my favorite book. I have watched the identifiers change from the simple enjoyment of anthropomorphized animals to the underlying struggles of class and even race. But, at its heart it is really the talking animals that do it. The companion piece of animation produced by Rankin and Bass is my favorite animated feature as well, even if it does rearrange the characterization a bit. Don Quixote continues to be a favorite for Cervantes writing style and most especially for his humor and use of irony and dialogue. H. Rider Haggard's stories of Allan Quartemain and Conrad's Heart of Darkness were also books that are still floating around in my brain mixed with a more than healthy dose of Ernest Hemingway.

Once upon a time Wal-Mart ran a "complete and unabridged"series of the "classics" that were two for $1.00 in paperback. Since my mother worked there, I was able to get most of them and they certainly came in handy. Fred, Texas only has an elementary school and come jr. high and high school we were bussed about 16 miles to Warren. When school let out at 2:45 I still had an hour and a half before rolling in on our dirt road at 4:30. I read on the bus. A lot. All of them. I can distinctly remember reading Rifle's for Watie, Johnny Tremain, and the True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle as well.

One of the most influential books on my mind's eye and judging the realism (real and imagined as I later found out) was a book in this series given to me by my grandfather. It was Stephen Crane's Red Badge of Courage. Ever since I read it and learned more about Crane's life (what little there is to know) I have always had a kind of soft spot for him. But the vivid details he put into his writings still stands out to me. Of course, Jules Verne and H.G. Wells still come up again and again (to my utter delight) as characters influencing the history of science.

Geology AND geologic time

I made the same grown up transition that many do and read Michael Crichton starting with Sphere in 6th grade until I ran out of his books. Jurassic Park and Congo are still favorites, and forgetting the terrible movie version, Timeline is a surprisingly good book.

As far as the books that have "changed" my life in the sense that the questionnaire wanted to know so they could target my page with advertisements for things the algorithm relates to those titles there are two sets that I have that have influenced my particular path of education and study. Charles Lyell's Principles of Geology, which I read not long after beginning college at Lamar was a beat up library copy of "the books that inspired Darwin." They are actually beautiful pieces of literature aside from important technological geological ideas. I recently found a very nice leather-bound set pictured with the other set that has influenced my studies greatly.

Somewhere on either side of my birthday in the year 2000 my grandmother gave me a millennial edition of the Rand McNally road atlas of America and said "use it." It took some time but I eventually took jobs that required travel, and when I finally went back to college used it all over the American southwest on geological field expeditions. Some time after that she gifted me the leather-bound set of the Lewis and Clark journals along with Stephen Ambrose's Undaunted Courage.

I sat in the back yard this morning finishing up reading and some research on the Pacific Railroad surveys for one of the first (last) classes I will take before writing my dissertation. The challenge to list influential book has come at an interesting time as I see the list of names and contributions to American history that follow the geological pioneers that accompanied the first surveys west, including Lewis and Clark. Even re-reading Turner's Frontier Thesis brought into focus several geological analogies that I had missed the first 5 times it was assigned in American History.

The history of the United States, especially the American West, is indelibly linked to the history of geology, and almost the entire nation has an inseparable link to the history of science. Most en vogue historians of American science begin our ascent with the Manhattan Project, ignoring the vast wealth of scientific history that predates the birth of their favorite emigrant scientists. The more diverse places that I look for our history, the more often I see familiar names, Hayden, Powell, the entire Peale family, Baird, and others with government reports being the largest body of evidence for their work. We cannot break the early ties of government and scientific expeditions, and somehow through a very winding path, all roads have converged to the point where that needs to be written, comprehensively as a historical work on science, art, politics, religion, genocide, and culture. That is where these two sets have led, and why they would be some of the most important works I have read.

Personification of America(s)

During the Golden Age of Exploration, maps conveyed as much personality of a place as it did the detail about its physical layout. The continents were usually personified in art, (think Rubens in the early 17th century, among others)

Rubens has the four continents embraced by their four respected rivers, Africa-The Nile, Europe-The Danube, Asia-The Ganges, and America in the back with The Rio de la Plata. Which for those unfamiliar with South American geography is the "Silver River" that empties into the Atlantic at Buenos Aires. As there was more colonial success in South America at the time, and Rubens was a diplomat in service of the Spanish crown (among others) it is natural that he is more familiar with South America than El Norte, the symbolism remains the same though. 

Europeanized or not, the personification of America began as a Minerva figure, but quickly took on the guise of an Indian Princess usually seen with, often times riding, some dangerous reptile. As in this frieze on a German building. 

My favorite really is Adrien Colleart II's mid-18th-century version where she, armed with bow and ax is riding a giant armadillo. 

As for the subtle warnings to explorers, Henry Popple included some hard to miss "here be dragons" moments. The ever present alligator is near the princess, as well as a monkey, and and armed warrior. In case that wasn't explicit enough (apparently Popple, knew his audience), she has her foot on a (ver European-looking) severed head that has been pierced with an arrow. To be fair, this map is the west coast of British Honduras and not specifically the North American continent, but the allusion is the same. 

As relationships deteriorated (read as the Europeans lost control), the Princess grew ever more threatening, until she was at least replaced by a male indian warrior. This wasn't just artistic license and/or personal choice as a religious edict called for the replacement of the female figures with that of a male.

When the West was North

It is probably better to speak of the West at this point as simply the Frontier. On the American continent the East was even at once considered West. But it is more than a direction. Colonial frontiers such as New York and Ohio, are almost laughable as "West" by the standards of the Montanans and any of the video game characters that you managed to get to the end of the Oregan Trail without dying of dysentery or starving to death. Even the idea of West as being westerly falls into disarray when you look at it from the perspective of New Spain and Mexico. For them the West was North, into Texas (and even farther).

This notion goes overlooked by many because there are not the copious amounts of art that depict encounters between the Spaniards and the Indians and/or Mexicans, or the Mexicans and Spaniards against the Indians, or Mayan, Aztec, and Incan civilizations. The bulk of European (or at least European style) art depict the French and Indian Wars that ravaged the colonial holdings of France and England in what is now the northern United States and southern Canada. Even literature followed this suit. I still do not know of a spanish equivalent of "The Last of the Mohicans."

There are a few things that we do have, however and they paint a vivid picture of the American Southwest, or the Mexican Northwest depending on your point of view. One (or really, two) is the Segesser Hide Paintings that are housed in the New Mexico History Museum in downtown Santa Fe. 

The other is a piece of religious and historical art. "The Destruction of Mission San Saba in the Province of Texas and the Martyrdom of the Fathers Alonso de Terreros, Joseph Santiesteban" was completed in the 1760s. To have room for the subjects and the title, the piece is an enormous 83 by 115 inches (6'11" x 9'7") and tells the story of the destruction of a Spanish Mission. So, there's that. 

Learning to See

       The beauty of finally making it to the "build your own" portion of a PhD program is the ability to make connections outside your department. Having "mastered" the basic foundations of your discipline it is now time to build onto it using materials and tools from far and wide. This is where you carve out your academic niche and bring the history, perspective, and baggage that only you possess. The plan here is to share some of the highlights, links, and images from my foray into Art History of the American West. Hopefully these will be short(er), and entertaining if not illuminating. Plus rehashing what we went over for you will help me remember things.

I have always enjoyed art. I hasten to add "good" just to bother those people that think art is completely subjective and that a geometric abstract is just as "good" as a perfectly represented landscape or natural history painting. For me, it is not. I enjoy realism, and allegory. But I am aware that there are artists who have shaken off the fetters of artistic confinement and have collectively given the art world a raspberry. Images and imagery are now, and mostly forever been important. They exist on millennia old cave walls for instance, and they are still important today. The impact their manipulation and broadcast from general photoshop to official propaganda cannot be understated.

Art history should be required courses for whatever subject you are studying and at whatever level you are working. At the very least it should be strongly suggested as electives. It is nearly impossible to understand the modern money flow in science and research without understanding early scientific patronage. That, in turn, is almost impossible to unravel without understanding the patronage system of art--that is official, high-class, royal, courtly art.

For this quick installment I want to share two videos and some thoughts on Art in the American West. You may or may not be aware that Western art has been held to a higher standard of accuracy than any other genre. It was imperative that the artists accurately represent what was "out there" so those wanting to start a new life would have at least some idea of what was going to kill them.

In "The Death of General Wolfe" Benjamin West broke with the tradition of painting modern subjects in classical dress and poses. West kept the posing and dramatics but but everyone in period dress.

The biggest argument over this painting was the infamous moccasin incident. West had failed to put moccasins on the Indian (never mind the fact that the only Indian there fought against General Wolfe). In subsequent versions West painted a pair near the figure. Also forgivable was the inclusion of all his top ranking officers close by his side when he died. As mentioned in the video, this was no way to run an engagement. There is a lot going on to this, and it is useful to understand the period not only that the battle took place, but when the scene was painted and what politics were influencing the artist, was it a commission of some sort, etc. All these questions will help you learn to see a painting in contrast to simply looking at one.