Tuesday, April 30, 2024

endless dalliance / no need to encourage his talking

Dali Visits Iowa (1952)
Martin Birnbaum, The Last Romantic: The story of more than a half-century in the world of art. New York: Twayne Publishers, 1960—

After his exhibition and just when I began to pride myself on having introduced a salient figure into our art world, Herbert Crowley suddenly disappeared. Only after I retired did I discover that he had enlisted in the camouflage division of the British Army. In 1926 [other sources say 1924] he married Miss Alice Lewisohn who, with her sister Irene, had founded the remarkable Neighborhood Playhouse on Grand Street, New York, an admirable account of which was written by Mrs. Crowley [titled The Neighborhood Playhouse: Leaves from a Theatre Scrapbook].


[Herbert and Alice Lewisohn Crowley lived in Zurich after World War I, where they were closely associated with psychologist Carl Jung.]

•••

Carl Jung, Man and His Symbols. New York: Doubleday, Anchor Press, 1964—

Freud made the simple but penetrating observation that if a dreamer is encouraged to go on talking about his dream images and the thoughts that these prompt in his mind, he will give himself away and reveal the unconscious background of his ailments, in both what he says and what he deliberately omits saying. His ideas may seem irrational and irrelevant, but after a time it becomes relatively easy to see what it is that he is trying to avoid, what unpleasant thought or experience he is suppressing. No matter how he tries to camouflage it, everything he says points to the core of his predicament. A doctor sees so many things from the seamy side of life that he is seldom far from the truth when he interprets the hints that his patient produces as signs of an uneasy conscience. What he eventually discovers, unfortunately, confirms his expectations. Thus far, nobody can say anything against Freud's theory of repression and wish fulfillment as apparent causes of dream symbolism.

Saturday, April 27, 2024

John Wolcott Adams and World War I ship camouflage

Most likely, we have unearthed more information and have written more about the life of American artist William Andrew Mackay (1870-1939) than anyone else [in most online sources, his birth year is mistakenly cited as 1876] . It has been a long extended search, beginning in the 1970s—and it seems as if it never ends. Mackay was a muralist who, at least in that regard, is especially famous for his murals about the life of Theodore Roosevelt, installed beneath the rotunda in the Roosevelt Memorial Hall of the American Museum of Natural History in New York. But he also painted numerous other murals in prominent public buildings.

Our initial interest in him began with the contributions he made to the development of ship camouflage before and during World War I. We have talked about his efforts in various earlier blog posts, but we’ve also written a major, detailed essay about his discoveries (acessible free online), and have often featured his work in published books and articles.

Until recently, we were unaware of his connection to John Wolcott Adams (1874-1925), an American illustrator who was a descendant of the famous Adams family of New England, which had produced two US presidents. We learned recently, in an essay by Christine I. Oklander in an exhibition catalog titled John Wolcott Adams: American Life and History (Chadds Ford PA: Brandywine River Museum, 1998) that William Andrew Mackay was “one of [Adams’] closest friends” and that Adams had been “assigned to paint the American liner Philadelphia.” At least one photograph of that camouflaged ship has survived (reproduced above), taken on June 27, 1917.   

In Mackay’s approach to ship camouflage, the goal is low visibility, not confusion or surface disruption (as is the function of dazzle). As shown in the photograph of the ship, Mackay used an optical mixture of red, violet and green, applied in splotch-like patterns (not unlike Pointilism) on the surface of the ship.

Aldis Lamps, Bolo Bananas, and Some Dog's Body

Caption for an illustration (shown above; artist’s signature unclear) from The Aeroplane: The International Air Transport Journal. London, c1919—

THE AIR POLICE—It has been officially stated that we are to have an Air Police Force. Probably it will be International and Local at the same time. As the designing of new uniforms is one of the most important duties of the Air Authorities, a few suggestions are offered—for which no charge will be made. Reading from left to right they are as follows—(A) Provincial Police. Armament as shown. (B) Metropolitan Police. Fitted with Aldis Lamps, Bolo Bananas and Pockets. (C) Our French Bobbies would no doubt prefer “camouflage” as a distinction from the ordinary gendarmes. (D) The Irish Constabulary would, of course, want something different from anyone else. (E) The City Police would, no doubt, go in for something quite “Posh.” (F) And “over there” the Air Force Sheriff would be “Some dog’s body.”