Showing posts with label landscape. Show all posts
Showing posts with label landscape. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

From Farmland to Mature Forest: The Changing Landscape of Crumhorn Mountain

Doug Kendall, Curator of Collections

While working on a recent blog ("See It Now in 3-D! Hi-tech imagery of the 1880s"), I came across another stereograph made by Cooperstown photographer Washington Smith that caught my eye because I had recently been at the same location—Crumhorn Mountain in the Town of Maryland, New York, about 15 miles south of Cooperstown.

Lake on Crumhorn Mountain
Stereographic print on cardboard
Washington G. Smith, mid-late 19th century
NM-48.69(14)

Smith’s caption added that Crumhorn Mountain was 2000 feet above sea level and someone else penciled in “Highest water in the state.” I don’t know whether that’s true, but today Crumhorn Mountain is home to Boy Scout Camp Henderson. My son’s troop spent a week there in July. According to the camp’s website, Henderson “is situated on 630 acres of rolling hills and mature forest on Crumhorn Mountain in upstate New York. Its’ reservation is home to a superb lake and miles of hiking trails that meet all ability levels.”

Lake on Crumhorn Mountain
Digital photograph
Douglas Kendall, July 15, 2010

As the description suggests, the area is heavily forested today. Entering “Crumhorn Lake, NY” into a Google Maps search and viewing the satellite image confirms that the trees come nearly to the water’s edge all around Crumhorn Mountain’s lake.

But look at Smith’s stereograph of the lake. Although there are trees around the far side of the lake, the entire foreground (apparently including about half the lake shore) is devoid of trees. Instead, the landscape is one of cleared fields with barns near the lakeshore.

Even 2000 feet above sea level, the scene recorded by Smith was typical of the landscape of upstate New York and New England in the mid to late 19th century. Land was relentlessly cleared for agriculture and mining throughout the region. By the end of the 19th century, many farmers had moved further west where the land was flatter and farms were larger. Marginal farmland, such as that atop Crumhorn Mountain, began to give way once again to forest—so much so that today the area appears to be a “mature forest” inhabited mainly by deer, small animals and the occasional bear, except for 6 weeks every summer (and other occasions throughout the year) when Camp Henderson is home to Boy Scouts and Cub Scouts from central New York and beyond. I doubt many of them suspect that their campsites were cleared farmland 150 years ago…but Wash Smith has left us the proof.




Thursday, July 22, 2010

Drawing Attention: Birds-eye Views of Upstate New York

By Doug Kendall, Curator of Collections

Bird's-eye views of burgeoning American cities and towns became a popular promotional tool for town development and an expression of local pride during the mid-19th century. Lithography made it possible for local boosters—and printers—to quickly and inexpensively disseminate views intended to impress citizens, prospective citizens and others with the prosperity and beauty of nearly every town and city.

Upstate New York towns had begun vying for influence from the opening of the Erie Canal in 1825. Some places, such as Rochester and Oswego, became major shipping and milling centers because of their locations on canals, lakes, and—later—railroads. Others, such as Cooperstown, lacked a place on the major transportation routes; the lithographers still managed to sell images of these towns and villages to local residents and tourists.

Bird’s-eye views emphasize the most widely known advantages of each locale. By the mid-19th century, Cooperstown had been bypassed by canals and railroads. The village was best known as the home of the novelist James Fenimore Cooper.

A Civil War era image of Cooperstown depicts a quaint village hugging the picturesque Otsego Lake, renowned as the “Glimmerglass” in Cooper’s works. The settled village is seen beyond from a partially forested hillside with a hardy farmer plowing a steeply-sloped field, echoing the transition from frontier to settled farmland found in Cooper’s Leatherstocking Tales. Points of interest are noted along the lower margin of the image; many of these refer to James Fenimore Cooper and his novels.

Cooperstown, New York
Lithograph on paper, 1862. M. Dev. Martin, artist and lithographer.
Lewis & Goodwin, Albany, NY, publishers.
Gift of Mrs. Morgan Henry.
N0040.1964

In contrast, Oswego was an important port on Lake Ontario. Flour, grain, lumber, iron, salt, and cornstarch passed through the port between the lake and the Oswego Canal, which linked the city with the Erie Canal in 1829. By 1853, the Oswego and Syracuse Railroad had provided another transportation link from the port to the interior. Bradley sketched Oswego from a vantage point off shore, a position which allowed him to emphasize the importance of the city’s harbor. Sailing vessels are congregated inside the breakwater. Steamboats, grain elevators, the lighthouse and the canal entrance beyond the first bridge all testify to the bustling business of Oswego. On the left, Fort Ontario looms over the lake front, recalling the former strategic importance of the location.

Oswego, N.Y.
Lithograph on paper, 1853.
Lewis Bradley, artist. David William Moody, lithographer.
N0345.1955. Gift of Stephen C. Clark.

Of all canal boom towns, Rochester experienced the most explosive growth, from a population of 331 in 1815 to nearly 10,000 in 1830. One of the most celebrated engineering feats of the Erie Canal, the crossing of the Genesee River on an impressive stone aqueduct, can be seen in this view slightly to the right of center. Although railroad trains can be seen on the left in this view, the canal takes center stage. In addition to the prominent canal and the main thoroughfare visible at center, Hill chose a vantage point that allowed him to show in some detail many of the city's fine Italianate residences. Many industrial buildings along the canal and the river testify to Rochester’s economic vitality in the middle of the 19th century.

Rochester from the West, 1853
Lithograph on paper, 1853. John William Hill (1812-1879), artist. David William Moody, lithographer. Smith Brothers and Company, New York, NY, publisher.
N0348.1955. Gift of Stephen C. Clark.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

The Life of Art

By Michele Harvey


This is the fourth in a series of posts by guest blogger, Michele Harvey. Fenimore Art Museum is exhibiting new work by Harvey in the exhibition Watermark: Michele Harvey & Glimmerglass, until December 31, 2010.


The life of an object of art is a curious one. It starts as an inspiration or creative urge, which is transmuted into an idea or object.

In my case, it has been paintings, which start in the field as a scene, composition or sense of light, which deeply moves me. On the easel, a canvas can take months, weeks or days, determined by the painting itself. When it feels ‘right’, it’s finished. (It‘s said; a painting is never finished; only abandoned.) Some paintings never feel right and are sanded smooth and painted over. They form a wonderful surface for the next experiment. An artist’s life is full of experiments. Some work, some don’t. If a painting is lucky and makes it through this process, someone may find it interesting, sometimes interesting enough to give it a new home. Then something very curious happens, it transforms.

Haunted


I realized this when I sold my first piece of art, a small print. The buyer expressed what it meant to her and I realized that this would be the beginning of an adventure. An adventure that started on the easel would be carried on and be different with each person and hand it passed through. We all come with our separate sets of knowledge, understanding and experiences and we imprint those on everything we touch. This includes art.

Riddle


Two cases come to mind. My father, one late Christmas Eve, emerged from my studio saying, “Michele… your trees… the leaves, they MOVED!” Another was a woman who visited one of my shows. She sat on the bench, alone in the center of the room, in tears. I approached her and gently asked if I could assist her. She dabbed her eyes and said, “No, no…I’d like to just sit here… It’s so beautiful.”

Often remarks are of how a painting reminds someone of a childhood haunt or a place they love that I may never know. Sometimes they are places of imagination and somehow my rendering comes close to the mark. I’m very grateful when people share their stories. It means the painting is doing its job, being out in the world, making its way without me. With each new view it lives a new life, with each person adding his or her breath to it.

Transcendent


I once heard a gallery owner tell a collector that artists never like to meet clients. As an artist I can say this isn’t the case. My gratitude is to those viewers and collectors who have added their story to mine. And in doing so, have helped me move on to the next.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

What Lies Below the Surface? Part III

By Doug Kendall, Curator of Collections

When great landscape painters of 19th-century America are discussed, one will certainly hear the names of Thomas Cole and Asher Durand, both of whom are represented in the collections of the Fenimore Art Museum. Frederic Church, George Inness, Thomas Doughty and Albert Bierstadt would probably make the list as well.

These painters not only created a popular vision of the American landscape, they also inspired countless Americans to take up pencil and sketchbook, palette and canvas, and record the scenery of their own regions. Though neither famous nor in most cases professional, many of these artists did possess some artistic skill and talent.

In western New York, William Martin Beauchamp (1830-1925) and John Calvin Perry (1837-1894) were two such artists. Beauchamp’s father was an English printer who emigrated to Skaneateles and ran local newspapers and a printing office. William sketched landscapes of the Skaneateles Lake area from an early age; he became an Episcopal priest and an amateur archaeologist and continued creating sketches and watercolors throughout his life as an avocation.

Glenhaven, Head of Skaneateles Lake, 1851. By William Martin Beauchamp. Oil on canvas.
Bequest of Nina Fletcher Little, N0183.1993.

John Calvin Perry lived his entire life in the hamlet of Delphi Falls, 30 miles or so from Skaneateles. He painted portraits, but also farmed to support his family. At times he taught art at the Cazenovia Seminary and in other nearby communities. He painted landscapes for his own pleasure and many of these remained with his descendants.


Wheat Harvest, date unknown. By John Calvin Perry. Oil on canvas.
Gift of Clayton Smith, N0121.1992. Photo: Lesley Poling.

Artists like Beauchamp and Perry could not earn their living as artists, but they are representative of an artistic culture that developed in 19th-century New York. Their works, which never became iconic representations of the American landscape as did those of Cole and Church, nevertheless have great historical value in documenting the common landscape of upstate New York.


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