by Audrey Capria, Public Programs Intern
About twice a month, my colleagues and I at the American Folk Art Museum take trips to museums and galleries throughout New York City. When thinking of the handful of trips we have been on so far, there were two that made a strong impression. Edith Halpert and The Rise of American Art at The Jewish Museum was an eye-opener. With many of our field trips, there is usually a connective thread that ties itself to self-taught art. The exhibit at The Jewish Museum was no exception. Halpert gave recognition and credence to folk-art in a time where it was held without value and helped pave the way for museums such as AFAM to exist. Our tour guide Chris Gartell (who was ever so engaging and gracious), met us at a large wall-sized portrait of Edith Halpert. In the forefront, Halpert sits on a chair, staring directly and confidently into the lens. Six artists pose behind her, all men. The photograph was taken in 1952 and considering the time, this portrait speaks volumes. Edith Halpert was a trailblazer.
At the turn of the century, Halpert and her family emigrated from Ukraine and settled in New York City. Edith got her first taste for business while working at her family’s candy store. Mr. Gartell shared an anecdote about Halpert blowing air into bags of sweets that were sold at the shop, giving the impression the bags were much fuller than they were. This was a clever marketing tactic for a kid if you ask me! Halpert worked many jobs to support her family and at sixteen became an illustrator for Bloomingdale’s advertising department. With a natural inclination for the arts, Halpert studied life drawing at the National Academy of Design and was a member of two radical artist collectives. Hardworking and fiercely independent, Halpert tried her hand in a variety of career roles. She achieved great success as a high-powered executive for multiple companies. But it wasn’t until 1925 that Halpert, now married, decided to leave the corporate business world and embrace her true passion, art.
In 1926, with her own money, Halpert and her friend Berthe Kroll Goldsmith opened an art space called Our Gallery (later renamed Downtown Gallery). The gallery focused primarily on avant-garde and contemporary American art, as Halpert felt there was not much of a market for American artists to sell and display their work. In that era, museums and galleries mainly exhibited traditional art. Ever the innovator, Halpert was ready to shake things up and give exposure to artists that were often unknown or marginalized in society. Halpert called upon her advertising and marketing skills to draw attention to the newly founded gallery. Mr.Gartell explained to our group that in order to excite the general public, the preparation process for each new exhibit was made visible to pedestrians on the street by opening the gallery’s large glass windows. Halpert felt strongly that art should be accessible and inclusive to people of all races and economic statuses. Admission to the gallery space was free and Halpert negotiated prices that were affordable to collectors of modest means. Halpert also served as a partner for the The American Folk Art Gallery and The Daylight Gallery.
For the exhibit at The Jewish Museum, we were able to see first-hand paintings and objects that Edith Halpert had curated in her gallery. Halpert tended to pick pieces that (seemingly) contrasted one another in hopes of engaging a conversation between visitors. To give an example, Mr.Gartell brought us to Charles Sheeler’s Americana, painted in 1931. In this oil on canvas still life, Sheeler uses warm colors to depict a large living room table set at an odd angle from the left side corner. On the table sits a patterned board game, two wooden bowls, and a piece of folded paper. Rugs and various textiles encompass the room. I noticed that we were all straining our necks trying to absorb each detail of this highly textured painting.
After viewing Charles Sheeler, we looked at a portrait of young boy painted circa 1790 by artist John Brewster, Jr. In the painting, a small child with a blonde page boy haircut stands against a dull grey wall. He’s wearing a frilly forest green blouse with matching trousers. A finch is perched on the finger of his left hand. Underneath his fine dress shoes is an earth toned, floral-patterned rug. The rug, with its muted color palette of orange, brown, and yellow, is almost reminiscent of early 1970’s décor. Although painted centuries apart, we notice a commonality between the two paintings. With a strong focus on detail and pattern, both artists invite the viewer to look closely.
Upon further exploration of the exhibit, we noticed a large collection of weathervanes that varied in size and material. Halpert found this type of functional art to be unique and made this a strong selling point to potential buyers. She even convinced one reluctant buyer to purchase a weathervane of a steer, who initially referred to it with a less than flattering term. I never quite understood the allure of weathervanes myself, but was in awe of a liberty weathervane pattern on display. Carved in wood and painted with gilded metal, I was surprised to learn that this beautifully sculpted, towering weathervane was mass-produced.
Another painting that our guide pointed out was that of artist Horace Pippin. Pippin was an African American self-taught artist who centered many of his paintings around the subject of racial-segregation and slavery. Pippin’s Sunday Morning Breakfast was painted in 1943 with gouache on paper, and depicts a black family sitting down for breakfast. At the kitchen table, a mother serves her two children plates of food, while the father sits in a chair, tying on his boots for a day at work. A kettle sits whistling on a hot coal stove above flames of bright orange. The yellow front door is adorned with a horseshoe for good luck, and the kitchen cabinet is painted in a soft blue. Upon further inspection we notice the father is wearing tattered clothing, the window curtains are torn, and the kitchen walls are chipped, baring the skeleton of the house. We can only surmise that this family is poor. The painting engages with a comforting scene of everyday life, but it also brings attention to the history of a group of people who have long been disenfranchised through the constructs of racism.
We also viewed artists such as O. Louis Guglielmi, whose boldly painted Tenements gives commentary on how poverty and death are inextricably linked. By displaying works by these artists, Edith gave room for progressive dialogue between people from all walks of life.
The field trips we take are the most motivating and inspiring part of my internship. I’ve been exposed to new artists, institutions, and different ways of thinking and seeing. It has been an invaluable experience and has only emboldened my passion for the arts. I hope to share more of these experiences with you in the future.
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