Miss-Delectable
New Member
- Joined
- Apr 18, 2004
- Messages
- 17,160
- Reaction score
- 7
http://www.orlandosentinel.com/feat...mar28,0,3355171.story?coll=orl-home-lifestyle
The subjects of John Brewster Jr.'s portraits look very quietly and directly into our eyes. And through their eyes -- especially the children's eyes -- we see clearly into the soul of young America.
Brewster, who was deaf, traveled the New England cities of Federalist America, painting sensitive portraits of the new nation's merchant and professional elite. Thirty-two paintings are on view in "A Deaf Artist in Early America: The Worlds of John Brewster" at the Mennello Museum of American Art. The exhibition was organized by the Fenimore Museum of Art and will travel to New York and Connecticut.
Brewster was born into a strict Puritan family, who early recognized his talent for drawing. Though he apprenticed to an artist influenced by one of early America's leading painters, Brewster didn't absorb the prevailing "Grand Manner" of European-style painting, with its neoclassical references and overt symbolism.
Instead, his naive style had more in common with the itinerant folk painters of early America, who painted quick and serviceable portraits of small-town clients. Brewster often used blank backgrounds and subtly patterned furnishings to set off his sitters' expressive faces. His paintings have a formal restraint and clarity that suit modern tastes better than the florid settings of the Grand Manner.
During the 1790s, Brewster toured the cities of New England and eastern New York, seeking commissions through newspaper advertisements and word of mouth. His specialty was full-length portraits in a pared-down style, such as the matching images of Col. Thomas Cutts and his wife Elizabeth. Though Cutts was one of America's wealthiest merchants, his wife hews to a Puritan austerity of dress and demeanor. No trace of Grand Manner extravagances here.
Brewster excelled above all in painting children. He depicts young Francis Watts at full-length holding a bluebird on one finger. Her face and eyes are painted with great feeling and presence. Her physical form, however, is cloaked in a lacy chemise of such ethereal delicacy that Francis threatens to escape us, like a bird pulling against its tether string.
"Boy Holding a Book" is a half-length portrait of the sort Brewster preferred in later career. The book cover glows a brilliant red against the boy's black greatcoat and sets off the ruddy glow of his cheeks and auburn hair. Brewster presents a boy of studious nature but delicate constitution.
Psychologist Harlan Lane, author of A Deaf Artist in Early America: The Worlds of John Brewster Jr., thinks that Brewster's deafness attuned him to children and their faces. "Deaf people look closely at the eyes," Lane says in an interview at the museum, explaining Brewster's mastery of gaze and expression. Brewster may have responded to children as "outsiders" who felt a connection to his deafness, says Lane.
Supported by his wealthy father, Brewster could afford to linger over his portraits. Sometimes he remained for months with the same family. In 1817, however, he suspended his career to attend the Connecticut Asylum in Hartford, the nation's first school for the deaf.
At age 51, Brewster was the school's oldest student, yet he continued his studies for three years, determined to learn to read and write, according to Lane. Afterward he resumed a vigorous career until retiring in 1834.
Like his contemporaries, we must surmise much of Brewster's interconnected world. Born to a family whose ancestors sailed the Mayflower, he moved comfortably among America's Federalist elite. But as a deaf man, he lived on their edge of their circles. Even at the Connecticut Asylum, his age and accomplishment separated him from the other students.
From his view at the edge of early America, Brewster tells us more about its people than the heroic and often self-congratulatory portraits of the Grand Manner. Brewster's America is modest, tender, and aware that life and prosperity are often fleeting. Reflected by the eyes of Brewster's children, what do we find in our souls?
The subjects of John Brewster Jr.'s portraits look very quietly and directly into our eyes. And through their eyes -- especially the children's eyes -- we see clearly into the soul of young America.
Brewster, who was deaf, traveled the New England cities of Federalist America, painting sensitive portraits of the new nation's merchant and professional elite. Thirty-two paintings are on view in "A Deaf Artist in Early America: The Worlds of John Brewster" at the Mennello Museum of American Art. The exhibition was organized by the Fenimore Museum of Art and will travel to New York and Connecticut.
Brewster was born into a strict Puritan family, who early recognized his talent for drawing. Though he apprenticed to an artist influenced by one of early America's leading painters, Brewster didn't absorb the prevailing "Grand Manner" of European-style painting, with its neoclassical references and overt symbolism.
Instead, his naive style had more in common with the itinerant folk painters of early America, who painted quick and serviceable portraits of small-town clients. Brewster often used blank backgrounds and subtly patterned furnishings to set off his sitters' expressive faces. His paintings have a formal restraint and clarity that suit modern tastes better than the florid settings of the Grand Manner.
During the 1790s, Brewster toured the cities of New England and eastern New York, seeking commissions through newspaper advertisements and word of mouth. His specialty was full-length portraits in a pared-down style, such as the matching images of Col. Thomas Cutts and his wife Elizabeth. Though Cutts was one of America's wealthiest merchants, his wife hews to a Puritan austerity of dress and demeanor. No trace of Grand Manner extravagances here.
Brewster excelled above all in painting children. He depicts young Francis Watts at full-length holding a bluebird on one finger. Her face and eyes are painted with great feeling and presence. Her physical form, however, is cloaked in a lacy chemise of such ethereal delicacy that Francis threatens to escape us, like a bird pulling against its tether string.
"Boy Holding a Book" is a half-length portrait of the sort Brewster preferred in later career. The book cover glows a brilliant red against the boy's black greatcoat and sets off the ruddy glow of his cheeks and auburn hair. Brewster presents a boy of studious nature but delicate constitution.
Psychologist Harlan Lane, author of A Deaf Artist in Early America: The Worlds of John Brewster Jr., thinks that Brewster's deafness attuned him to children and their faces. "Deaf people look closely at the eyes," Lane says in an interview at the museum, explaining Brewster's mastery of gaze and expression. Brewster may have responded to children as "outsiders" who felt a connection to his deafness, says Lane.
Supported by his wealthy father, Brewster could afford to linger over his portraits. Sometimes he remained for months with the same family. In 1817, however, he suspended his career to attend the Connecticut Asylum in Hartford, the nation's first school for the deaf.
At age 51, Brewster was the school's oldest student, yet he continued his studies for three years, determined to learn to read and write, according to Lane. Afterward he resumed a vigorous career until retiring in 1834.
Like his contemporaries, we must surmise much of Brewster's interconnected world. Born to a family whose ancestors sailed the Mayflower, he moved comfortably among America's Federalist elite. But as a deaf man, he lived on their edge of their circles. Even at the Connecticut Asylum, his age and accomplishment separated him from the other students.
From his view at the edge of early America, Brewster tells us more about its people than the heroic and often self-congratulatory portraits of the Grand Manner. Brewster's America is modest, tender, and aware that life and prosperity are often fleeting. Reflected by the eyes of Brewster's children, what do we find in our souls?