Frederick
Law Olmsted
John
Singer Sargent
-- American painter
1895
Biltmore
House, Asheville, North Carolina
Oil
on canvas
254
x 139.7 cm (100 x 55 in.)
Inscribed: (Lower right:) John S. Sargent
Jpg:
Friend of the JSS Gallery
"I
have all my life been considering distant effects and sacrificing
immediate
success and applause to that of the future."
--
Fredrick Law Olmsted
Frederick Law
Olmsted (1822-1903)
is widely recognized as the founder of American landscape architecture
and the nation's foremost parkmaker. His first, his most loved, and in
many ways he's best known work was his design of Central Park in New
York
city (1858-1876) with his partner Calvert Vaux (1824-1895).
But he would go on to have a significant influence in the way cities
and
communities are built with the idea of nature and parks around us. He
is
one of the first to put forth the principles of the City Beautiful
Movement
in America. He was also one of the first to introduce the idea of
suburban
development to the American landscape.
* *
*
"My campaign
here announces itself
ominously," Sargent wrote in May of 1895 when he arrived at the
Biltmore
to paint the venerable landscape artist and the architect Richard
Morris Hunt, "— both wives prove to me that I must imagine
thus
that their husbands look at all like what they look like at present —
totally
different really . . ."
Olmsted was
in very poor health --
though his use of the cane actually came from a riding accident he
suffered
as a younger man when he was working on Central park from which he
never
fully recovered. Olmsted had been at Biltmore since
February
of '95. He had plans for leaving earlier but Vanderbilt had asked him
to
stay on so Sargent could paint him. The firm which he had built up, now
had his sons working for him and his reputation was known
internationally.
There was very real concern about the health of the company being so
tied
to Olmsted Sr. The family (we now know) was in a bit of a panic and the
trouble that Sargent was getting from Olmsted's wife was in weighing
all
these considerations. It was far more than just vanity. Their children
were working for the firm and Olmsted's reputation at being able to
carry
on under failing health was at risk (he was beginning to lose his mind
to dementia - and would sadly, later have to be institutionalized
where he eventually died) They themselves didn't understand what was
happening
and she didn't want a portrait of his weaker moments displayed publicly
to all of Olmsted's clients and possible future clients. The livelihood
of their entire family was at risk.
Sargent
wouldn't have known this.
No one but the closest to the family would have. Unlike Hunt's
portrait,
this one is a bit more successful. Still, Sargent struggles with an
imagined
scene -- which is something so totally foreign to his method of
painting.
You can see he draws inspiration from what he did with Madame Edouard
Pailleron
in '79 -- the use of leafs surrounding a standing figure. The forest in
Olmsted's case, is imagined. The grounds at Biltmore were nothing but
saplings.
Still, Sargent pulls it off relatively well putting the man of trees
and
flower leaning on his cane (which was very much his signature) among
dogwood,
laurel, and rhododendron.
Fatigued,
Olmsted left with his wife
before the portrait was finished and his son stepped into his coat to
finish
modeling for Sargent. You can almost feel the frustration of
Sargent
in dealing with the situation. In both cases, Hunt and Olmsted, both
men
appear more "flat" than most of his other work, and clearly shows
Sargent's
inability to paint beyond what he sees.
* *
*
Studying
people like John S. Sargent
is inspiring to be sure, but there is a certain disconnect between the
reality of life that I understand and the kind of life that Sargent and
people like him seem to live. Though laudable, I never could fully
relate
to people that knew at an early age exactly what they wanted to do in
life,
and with blinders on to any other distractions, could pursue their
objectives
with a singular of purpose and determination. If people like
Sargent
are to be our only model of excellence, then there is a great number of
us that are already doomed. Olmsted wasn't like that. He was one of us.
In a time in history when men were often deep into what ever line of
work
before they were even twenty (Women? well, we won't even talk about
their
expectations or lack thereof), Olmsted floundered in life searching and
unsure until he was well into his thirties. He suffered serious and
deep
periods of depression, and moments of self doubt. He was saddled with
debt
from one failed attempt after another (though he paid every penny even
though he wasn't legally bound).
The thing I
like most about Olmsted
is that he was profoundly human. And it's that which is
so
impressive about him. You see, even after failing in life repeatedly in
other endeavors he reached the pinnacle of his profession. Remarkably,
landscape architecture for Olmsted was a fallback. It was something he
did as a job here and there and as a hobby. It was something he never
really
considered viable until much later.
What Olmsted
did share in common
with Sargent was the relentless energy of hard work. Both spent long
hours
of seeing a project through to completion. Both men were
opinionated,
well read and intellectual. Both knew exactly what they wanted to
accomplish
-- though the struggle in getting there might have been intense.
And probably one of the most important things (besides the hard work)
they
both had the knack at networking with influential people that could
open
doors for them in the future.
Like any
highly successful artist,
he had a vision of of what needed to be done and an iron will to see it
come to fruition. He was a genius when it came to organization and was
able to sort an incredible amounts of details into a clear and concise
plan. (In the case of Central Park, there were as many as 3,600 workers
to oversee at its height and something like over 300,000 specific trees
and bushes to be planted, a lake to be built and grading -- remember
there
were no bulldozers and they did it by hand or with horse drawn
machinery.)
He had difficulty dealing with people that didn't see his vision, and
on
more than one occasion would simply walk away from a project when he
came
to loggerheads with his employers.
He started
his professional life
with a brief stint as a surveyor, but found he didn't suit him. He
spent
a year as a seaman on a merchant ship to China but was disillusioned by
the cruelty and harshness of the life. From the love of
horticulture
he developed from one of his tutors (he never had any formal schooling
- not too unusual for that period of time) and with the financial help
of his father (who was upper middle class), he bought a farm on Staten
Island with the intent of getting into professional farming. He
studied
everything, writing papers for journals but the venture was
unrewarding.
He traveled to England and took walking tour to study the farming and
became
captivated by the public parks he saw. On his return, his farm was
mostly
unsuccessful, even after starting a tree nursery. He found himself
detached
from an intellectual community that he wanted to be apart of and
distracted
by his other interests. He had sat in on lectures at Yale
University,
though he didn't have the time to formally enroll. He was intensely
interested
in the slavery issue that was ripping the country apart prior to the
war.
He was an abolitionist (a pragmatic moderate at first which hardened
later)
and traveled to the south as a correspondent for the northern
papers
(New York Times and others) writing about the plantations and the
economy
that were based on the backs of slaves. He bundled his papers and
writings
into a weighty tome (something like this essay is turning into) and
called
it "A Journey in the Seaboard Slave States with Remarks on Their
Economy"
which would be the first of three books on the south -- all critically
praised but economically flopped.
From his
writings he became noticed
in the literary world and was asked to join a new magazine as the
managing editor for Putnam's which was a monthly -- similar to Harpers.
He threw himself into it totally and loved his work but inner
disagreement
of the partners and growing financial problems of the magazine, along
with
fledgling subscriptions led to total financial ruin. Friends of Olmsted
that had invested in the venture were saddled with debt which he felt
duty
bound (though not lawfully) to repay.
Again adrift,
he was approached by
a political friend from his connections and writings on the
abolitionist
issues and farming, he got an "inside track" to be the superintendent
in
charge of a workforce building a new public park in New York city. The
park was to be named Central Park -- the year was 1857. He was 35 years
old.
Needing the
money badly, he jumped
at the chance. When the city opened a competition for design of the
park,
the new superintendent (Olmsted) was approached by an architect Calvert
Vaux to partner in a design for the competition (Vaux, by the way would
design the first
Metropolitan Museum of Art building 1874-1880). Working together on
a joint proposal they won. Together, Vaux and Olmsted worked and
oversaw
the construction of the new park, but continual political battles in
maintaining
the integrity of their plan and fights over patronage and other issues
came to ahead by 1861 (the start of the war). Having seen much of it to
completion Olmsted was ready to quit.
Staying on as
an advisory position
for Central park, he got appointed general secretary to the United
States
Sanitary Commission (which was somewhat similar to what the Red Cross
is
today). The pay wasn't great but it was important to the war effort and
he felt a personal need to contribute. Like always, he threw himself
totally
into his efforts and brought praise from many quarters on his
logistical
skills and management. As the war dragged on he saw a need to fully
revamp
the managerial structure of the commission, but his plans were
throttled
by political interests and he felt hamstrung and resigned.
With no
income, still in debt, he
was approached by the largest gold mining company in California. The
firm
under new ownership in New York was losing money with some of the
richest
reserves of gold. They clearly needed a man of Olmsted's managerial
skills
to go and straighten out the mess. Though it would take him away from
the
war effort and his involvement in public life, he needed the money, and
at a handsome salary, he took it.
In California
he fell in love with
the country. Got himself appointed to the Yosemitie Commission by the
governor
and quickly became a key figure designing the plan and management of
the
new park essentially leaving it as untouched as possible. He was
approached
about designing an ambitious and visionary new city boulevard system
for
bustling San Francisco -- a city bursting at the seams from the gold
rush.
He designed the plan but it failed in the election because of its
ultimate
cost and lack of shared vision. All of this was on the side of running
one of the largest mining companies.
Through hard
work, he turned a company
around from losing money into profitable venture. He was able to pay
off
his personal debts; but on the cusp of really achieving something he
was
haunted yet again by forces out of his control. Only when the sheriff
appeared
at his office to impound the company's assets did he learn the owners
back in New York were embezzling the profits and had defaulted on a
note.
With thousands of workers jobs at risk, he begged for time,
scrambled
desperately, pleading in cables to New York for help. Upon his own
integrity
and good will with local creditors and without any assistance from New
York, he renegotiated the debt to be paid directly out of company
earnings
-- bypassed New York. Olmsted found himself running the whole show with
no guidance from his employers. Utterly cutoff, the company with
disastrous
debts, the owners self absorbed in bickering and entanglements of one
lawsuit
after another, and with no real chance of ever being further paid
himself,
he fell into one of his crippling depressions.
Things looked
pretty bleak.
His friend
Calvert Vaux begged with
him to return to New York to form an independent landscape partnership.
Olmsted couldn't see it making any money and told him he would hang on
in California for another six months hoping for the best.
The best
never came. Staying longer
than most people would without pay, at the end of six months he turned
it over to the creditors and walked away.
Another
failed adventure. He was
43 years old.
*
* *
"The
enjoyment of scenery
employs the mind without fatigue and yet exercises it, tranquilizes it
and yet enlivens it; and thus, through the influence of the mind over
the
body, gives the effect of refreshing rest and reinvigoration of the
whole
system."
--
Fredrick Law Olmsted
(quoted
in A Clearing In the Distance, p. 258)
The
Vanderbelt landscaping commission
for Olmsted started in 1891 and would continue beyond Olmsted's death
and until 1909. It was a huge undertaking and at the same time he was
working
on a number of other projects
With the help
of his sons who would
succeed him: John Charles and Frederick Law Olmsted Jr. (the latter
would
become just as influential as his father -- even leading to some
confusion
for me as the younger Olmsted would eventually drop the "Jr." from his
name) the Olmsted Firm between 1857 and 1950 would leave a thumbprint
on
America that is as profound today as when they envisioned it on the
draft
boards of their offices. From the master list of drawing projects the
firm
participated, in some way, in 5,500 projects.
Their
remarkable farsighted vision
touching, molding, nurturing some of the most profoundly beautiful
public
and private spaces in America. It seems that no matter where an
Americans
lives, the perception of their environment has been touched, in
some
way, by Frederick Law Olmsted.
A Very short
list of selected Olmsted
Projects:
Frederick
Law Olmsted with his partner Calvert Vaux
1858-1876 |
Central
Park, New York |
1860-1874 |
Hartford
Retreat for the Insane,
Hartford Conn |
1865 |
College
of California, Berkley,
Calif |
1866 |
Columbia
Institution for the Deaf
and Dumb, Washington DC |
1865-1895 |
Prospect
Park, Brooklyn, NY |
1867 |
Seaside
Park, Bridgeport, Conn. |
1867-1873 |
Cornell
University, Ithaca, NY |
1867-1886 |
Fort
Green Park, Brooklyn, NY |
1868 |
Parade
Ground, Kings County, Brooklyn,
NY |
1868 |
Tompkins
Park, Brooklyn, NY |
1868-1874 |
Eastern
and Ocean Parkways, Brooklyn,
NY |
1868-1887 |
Riverside
residential community,
Ill |
1886-1889 |
Riverside
Park, New York city |
1868-1915 |
Delaware
Park, The Parade, and the
Front, Buffalo, NY |
1869-1871 |
Walnut
Hill Park, New Britain, Conn. |
1870-1872 |
Tarry
Heights residential community,
NY |
1870-1895 |
South
Park, Chicago, Ill |
1869-1871 |
Walnut
Hill Park, New Britain Conn. |
1870-1872 |
Tarrytown
Heights residential community,
N.Y. |
1870-1895 |
South
Park, Chicago, Ill. |
1870-1914 |
South
Park, Falls River, Mass. |
1870-1920 |
Donwing
Park, Newburgh, N.Y. |
1871 |
New
York State Asylum for the Insane,
Buffalo, N.Y. |
1876-1889 |
Morningside
Park, New York, N.Y. |
1879-1895 |
State
Reservation at Niagara Falls,
N.Y. |
Frederick
Law Olmsted alone
1864-1865 |
Mountaub
View Cemetery, Oakland
Calif. |
1865-1867 |
San
Francisco Public Grounds, Calif. |
1870-1888 |
Staten
Island Improvement Commission,
Staten Island, N.Y |
1872-1875 |
McLean
Asylum grounds, Waverley,
Mass. |
1872-1886 |
Parkside
subdivision, Buffalo, N.Y. |
1872-1894 |
Trinity
College, Hartford, Conn. |
1873-1893 |
Mount
Royal Park, Montreal, Canada |
1873 |
Tacoma
Land Company, Tacoma, Wash. |
1874-1881 |
Yale
University, New Haven, Conn. |
1875-1878 |
Twenty-Third
& Twenty-Fourth
Wards, New York, N.Y. |
1875-1894 |
U.S.
Capitol Grounds, Washington,
D.C. |
1878-1920 |
Back
Bay Fens, Boston, Mass |
1879-1897 |
Arnold
Arboretum, Boston, Mass |
1889-1893 |
Muddy
River Improvement, Boston,
Mass |
1881-1884 |
Bridgeport
Parks, Bridgeport, Conn. |
1881-1895 |
Belle
Isle, Detroit, Mich |
1881-1921 |
Franklin
Park, Boston, Mass. |
1883-1901 |
Lawrencevillle
School, Lawrenceville,
N.J. |
Fredrick
Law Olmsted with John Charles Olmsted (stepson) and Henry Sargent
Codman
(+1893) partner
1884-1892 |
Brookline
Hill subdivision, Brookline,
Mass. |
1866-1914 |
Standford
University, Palo Alto,
Calif. |
1866-1890 |
Planter's
Hill and World's End subdivision,
Hingham, Mass |
1887-1896 |
Wilmington
Parks, Wilmington, Del. |
1888-1893 |
World's
Columbian Exposition, Chicago,
Ill. |
1890-1895 |
Essex
County Parks, Essex County,
N.J. |
1890-1906 |
National
Zoooligical Park, Washington,
D.C. |
1890-1912 |
Genesee
Valley Park, Rochester,
N.Y. |
1891-1895 |
Louisville
Parks, Louisville, Ken. |
1891-1909 |
Biltmore
Estate, Asheville, N.C. |
1891-1909 |
Smith
College, Northampton, Mass. |
1892-1894 |
Bloomingdale
Asylum, White Plains,
N.Y. |
1892-1905 |
Druid
Hills residential community,
Atlanta, Ga. |
1893-1895 |
Wood
Island Park, Boston, Mass. |
The
firm without Olmsted Sr.: Charles Eliot (+1897), John Charles Olmsted
(1920+),
and Frederick Law Olmsted Jr.
1895-1899 |
Washington
University, St. Louis,
Mo |
1895-1912 |
Royal
Victoria Hospital, Montreal,
Canada |
1895-1927 |
Bryn
Mawr College, Bryn Mar, Penn. |
1896-1922 |
Mount
Hoyoke College, South Hadley,
Mass. |
1896-1932 |
Vassar
College, Poughkeepsie, N.Y. |
1897-1914 |
Roland
Park, Baltimore, Md. |
1897-1924 |
Audubon
Park, New Orleans, La. |
1900-1906 |
Brown
University, Providence, R.I. |
1901-1910 |
University
of Chicago, Chicago,
Ill. |
1901-1930 |
Seattle
Parks, Seattle, Wash. |
1902-1912 |
Williams
Collage, Williamstown,
Mass. |
1902-1920 |
University
of Washinton, Seattle
Wash. |
1903 |
Lewis
and Clark Exposition, Portland,
Oreg. |
1903-1919 |
John
Hopkins University, Baltimore,
Md. |
1904-1905 |
Portland
Parks, Portland, Me. |
1906-1908 |
Sopkane
Parks, Poakane, Wash. |
1907-1921 |
New
Haven Improvement Commission,
New Haven, Conn. |
1908-1925 |
Boulder
Improvement Association,
Boulder, Co. |
1909 |
Alaska-Yokon-Pacific
Exposition,
Seattle, Wash. |
1909-1912 |
Batery
Park, Charleston, S.C. |
1909-1931 |
Forest
Hills Gardens residential
community, Queens, N.Y. |
1909-1931 |
Pittsburgh
Civic Commission, Pittsburgh,
Penn. |
1910-1911 |
Dayton
Parks, Dayton, Oh. |
1911 |
San
Diego Exposition, San Diego,
Calif. |
1912-1913 |
Newport
City Improvement, Newport,
R.I |
1914-1931 |
Rancho
Palos Verdes residential
community, Palos Verdes, Calif. |
1925-1926 |
Philadelphia
Sequicentennial Exposition,
Philadelphia, Penn. |
1925-1931 |
Harvard
Business School, Cambridge,
Mass. |
1925-1932 |
Harverford
College, Haverford, Penn. |
1925-1926 |
Duke
University, Durham, N.C. |
1927-1935 |
Fort
Tryon Park, New York, N.Y. |
1929-1932 |
Notre
Dame University, South Bend,
Ind. |
1932-1933 |
Morris
Arboretum, Philadelphia,
Penn. |
Notes:
Provenance:
Formerly
in the collection of Vanderbilt, George, until 1914.
Cecil, Cornelia Amherst, until 1978.
Bibliography:
Ormond,
Richard and Elaine Kilmurray, "John Singer Sargent: complete paintings;
volume 2, Portraits of the 1890s," New Haven, CT: Yale University
Press, 2002, no. 320.
McKibbin, David, "Sargent's Boston," Boston, Museum of Fine Arts, 1956.
Antiques (Apr. 1980): pg. 865.
Illustration:
Ormond,
Richard and Elaine Kilmurray, "John Singer Sargent: complete paintings;
volume 2, Portraits of the 1890s," New Haven, CT: Yale University
Press, 2002, pg. 103.
Antiques (Apr. 1980): pg. 865.
SIRIS IAP 80045109
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