By: Paul D'Ambrosio, Vice President and Chief Curator
The following post is from my other blog, American Folk Art at Cooperstown. Enjoy!
In the more than 25 years of doing folk art exhibitions and giving tours to the public, I can attest that there is one “fact” that nearly everyone believes about folk art: folk portrait painters in the early and mid- 1800s painted the bodies in the winter and traveled around in the summer offering to paint one’s head in a body of one’s choosing. In fact, every time I take a tour group through the folk art galleries there is someone who will say, “Oh, those are the portraits where they painted the bodies in the winter…” How this iron-clad association came to be, I have no idea. It has not appeared in any published sources that I know of, even the popular magazines or newspapers that write about folk art.
So it will probably come as no surprise to you that it is patently untrue. Not that I can prove it to be false, but it stands to reason that if this was a wide-spread practice we would have found some headless bodies by now. Maybe stored away in some attic. Or in an artist’s estate. Or a little New England historical society collection (they save everything). Or at least written about in some diary or newspaper account from the 1830s or 1840s. But there is nothing. Dead silence on this issue.
What we do have, by contrast, is heads without bodies. Doesn’t that make more sense? People were particular about their likenesses. Before photography was invented in 1839 the portrait you had painted may well have been the only likeness of you taken in your lifetime. Often, artists would start with the head, sometimes on the back
of a canvas to practice. Sometimes, the picture is left unfinished for some unknown reason, and the head is left to float forever on the blank canvas. It would be pretty inconvenient – and an inefficient way of doing business – to travel the highways and byways with a load of headless bodies on canvas, hoping that you can somehow sell them all on your travels.
I suspect that the reason this myth came to be is the simple visual fact that many folk portraitists utilized stock poses and backgrounds to speed production of their work. The portraits shown here, by Samuel Miller, illustrate this practice. There is a certain sameness to how people presented themselves, and how they dressed, and how their interiors looked, that made this way of doing portraiture acceptable in many circumstances. But that’s still a far cry from peddling headless bodies.
So it will probably come as no surprise to you that it is patently untrue. Not that I can prove it to be false, but it stands to reason that if this was a wide-spread practice we would have found some headless bodies by now. Maybe stored away in some attic. Or in an artist’s estate. Or a little New England historical society collection (they save everything). Or at least written about in some diary or newspaper account from the 1830s or 1840s. But there is nothing. Dead silence on this issue.What we do have, by contrast, is heads without bodies. Doesn’t that make more sense? People were particular about their likenesses. Before photography was invented in 1839 the portrait you had painted may well have been the only likeness of you taken in your lifetime. Often, artists would start with the head, sometimes on the back
of a canvas to practice. Sometimes, the picture is left unfinished for some unknown reason, and the head is left to float forever on the blank canvas. It would be pretty inconvenient – and an inefficient way of doing business – to travel the highways and byways with a load of headless bodies on canvas, hoping that you can somehow sell them all on your travels.
I suspect that the reason this myth came to be is the simple visual fact that many folk portraitists utilized stock poses and backgrounds to speed production of their work. The portraits shown here, by Samuel Miller, illustrate this practice. There is a certain sameness to how people presented themselves, and how they dressed, and how their interiors looked, that made this way of doing portraiture acceptable in many circumstances. But that’s still a far cry from peddling headless bodies.Top: Picking Flowers, ca. 1845. Attributed to Samuel Miller (ca. 1807-1853). Gift of Stephen C. Clark, N0255.1961.
Bottom: Emily Moulton, by Samuel Miller, 1852, courtesy Currier Museum of Art, Manchester, NH
The painting depicts scenes from the Book of Revelation, the last chapter of the Christian Bible in which there is a description of the catastrophic sequence of events that lead to the end of the world, also known as the Apocalypse. Labels on the painting’s reverse quote lines from Chapters 4 and 6 specifically; these are the scenes that are depicted in the painting. 
Reverend McKendree Robbins Long (1888-1976) was a native of Statesville, N.C. He was an alumnus of Davidson College in N.C., and a student at the Art Students League in N.Y where he studied under painter and illustrator F. Luis Mora. He further honed his skills under the Hungarian portrait painter Sir Philip de Laszlo at Sandow’s Curative Institute in London, where he was greatly influenced by the work of John Singer Sergeant. After returning to the United States in 1913 at the age of 25, he took a relatively unsuccessful turn at being a professional artist, painting portraits, landscapes and still lifes. He finally abandoned this pursuit in 1922 in favor of a vocation in the Presbyterian ministry. His views on religion became progressively conservative over the years, however, ultimately leading him in 1935 to become an evangelist minister in the Baptist church. He became known for his literal interpretation of the scripture, preaching fiery gospels to filled assemblies at tent revivals, and writing hymns about humanity’s certain destruction and the coming of the Apocalypse.
His religious zeal fueled his return to painting in the 1950s when he began illustrating the biblical text of the Book of Revelations. Our painting is dated to 1962, fitting perfectly into this timeline. It wasn’t until after his death in 1976 that his works were properly recognized by the art world. He was tagged as a “visionary” or “outsider artist,” a name for predominantly southern (mostly self taught) artists who were outside of the larger art establishment. 
I myself am a graduate of “The Program” as it’s more often referred to by alumni and staff at NYSHA and The Farmers’ Museum, so it’s nice to still be connected as closely as I am to the faculty, staff, and students. The first years started this past Monday and on Tuesday and I served as the photographer for the class picture. They seem like a fantastic group of students and even though it’ll be November before I probably learn their names, I, along with my colleagues, I am sure, cannot wait to start working on projects with them.
These roadside attractions have been around for decades, but they have received a great deal of attention in the past 20 years or so. The most famous example is 
Some of my favorite environments are in the South. Howard Finster’s 
Another favorite folk environment is closer to home: Veronica Terrillion’s “Woman-Made” house and garden in Indian River, New York (above). I had the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Terrillion some years ago and getting a tour of her environment. It is a stunning collection of concrete figures that represent her life and her interest in nature. Veronica died in 2003, but her garden can still be seen from the roadside and can be visited by appointment. You can find out more 
Mounts are created to cradle objects with the least bit of stress on the piece itself. Hanging hardware is chosen to support the weight of a painting and make sure that hooks or wires will not give way. Manikins are carved and padded to fit the garment being displayed without stressing seams or delicate fabrics. If the support system is done well it almost disappears and the visitor is barely aware of what is keeping the object on the wall. 
