Thomas Eakins, Philadelphia’s favorite antihero artist, has been taking his lumps of late. Arguably, he is one of the top half-dozen American artists of all time, our greatest realist and a skilled and innovative art student as well as teacher, scholar, scientist, family man and sexual adventurer.
Still, as recently as several weeks ago, a noted and respected artist – himself a critic and teacher – called Eakins "that most pedestrian of artists."
Eakins was further described as a "troubled man" who "got what he deserved" when fired from the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts in 1886 for the use of nude models in classrooms. The speaker allowed that Eakins had painted a good picture or two, especially the surgical scenes, but complained that most of the artist’s other work was boring.
Some time ago, another Philadelphia critic wrote a column on why the art audience doesn’t love Eakins despite the consensus that he is a great artist. True, this columnist has made a name for herself by writing contrary opinions, but poor Tom does seem to be an easy target.
At the turn of this century, an English painter living in Southern California wrote a book charging Old Masters with using optical devices as aids in their painting. David Hockney alleged to have uncovered this "secret knowledge," causing scandal in circles apparently unaware that artists from time eternal have embraced tools and science as part of their trade.
All this reflected on Eakins at the same time breakthrough research in Philadelphia on the artist’s use of the camera and still photographs was being published and his photography praised. Some of Eakins’ work, such as a favorite painting of fishermen in Gloucester, N.J., fixing their nets, was found to have been photographed one element at a time and then later painted in the studio.
This methodical and scientific approach is anathema to art lovers who hold dearest to their hearts the notion that artists: 1) are French; 2) are poor and at the very least neurotic; 3) complete work outdoors in a single burst of frenzied creativity; and 4) sometimes cut off their own ears.
And yet Elizabeth Johns, a former professor at the University of Pennsylvania and a top Eakins scholar, has pointed out that one of the most characteristic features of Eakins’ portraits was the exactness of who the people were and what they were doing. Skilled cellists, for example, can recreate the exact note Eakins’ The Cello Player is producing. That very precision is celebrated as a virtue.
All the fury notwithstanding, two of the city’s top art institutions, the Philadelphia Museum of Art and the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, have collaborated in an unconventional way on a publication and an exhibition.
The academy is running a show called "Point of Sight: Thomas Eakins’ Drawing Manual Reconstructed" through April 3. The exhibition features drawings Eakins made to use in his classroom lectures and originally planned for publication as a manual for students. Eakins died before he could complete the project.
As it turns out, the academy owns the drawings, but the art museum owns the draft manuscript and has now published the manual that, by design, is the catalogue to the academy’s show. The publication, A Drawing Manual by Thomas Eakins, reunites the drawings and the text and was compiled by Kathleen A. Foster, curator of American art at the museum. The manual contains essays by Foster and Amy Werbel, a professor at St. Michael’s College in Vermont.
The book itself is published in period style. The manuscript had been separated from other Eakins materials for years and came to the museum in 1963. Some 23 years later, the Academy was gifted with a vast trove of Eakins’ work long secreted by the artist’s associates.
The drawings are highly technical and demonstrate Eakins’ interest in mathematics. They cover linear perspective, mechanical and isometric drawings, reflections in water, sculptural relief and shadow. The drawings done in pen and ink have been described as elegant; however, they are more charming than graceful. They include measurements, scales, geometric formulae and other types of mechanics.
Point of Sight: Thomas Eakins’ Drawing Manual Reconstructed
through April 3
Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts
118 N. Broad St.
215-972-7600
www.pafa.org
Admission: adults, $7; seniors and students, $6; ages 5-18, $5; under 5, free
