Showing posts with label Taos. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Taos. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 5, 2017

Ship Camouflage, Indians and Sunset Magazine

Cover by W.H. Bull or Harold Von Schmidt (1918)
Sunset magazine was founded in 1898. Eight years later its offices were destroyed by the San Francisco earthquake. In its literary and artistic heydey, which was more or less concurrent with World War I, it was one of the country's finest periodicals. It offered top quality writing, both fiction and nonfiction, with covers and interior images by some of the best illustrators. 

Some of its most memorable covers were created by Maynard Dixon, who was associated with the well-known cluster of artists at Taos NM. As we've explained in an earlier post, Dixon was a member of the American Camouflage Western Division in California, and two of his fellow artists and friends—William Penhallow Henderson and Bro Julius Olson Nordfeldt—were ship camoufleurs in San Francisco during the war. 

Yesterday, we made yet another discovery while browsing around in old issues of Sunset: The Pacific Monthly. On the cover of the December 1918 issue, quietly hidden for all these years, is a magnificent illustration of a dazzle-painted ship (shown above) by Harold Von Schmidt [although, curiously, it is signed on the bottom left by W.H. Bull]. A native of California, Von Schmidt was also connected to Taos, and often contributed artwork to Sunset magazine. What a great find. Please share with others.

Five months earlier, in its July issue, the same magazine had published an unsigned column about Native Americans, the Southwest, and wartime camouflage. Here's the article—

Modern camouflage, the out-door art first practiced by the French and now so effectively developed in the war zone, is, contrary to general belief, an ancient American institution. This fact was proved recently by the driver of a camouflaged Kissel Kar while on a tour through the Indian reservations of the West. They discovered that apart from its modern application, there is little new about the war except its name.

Naturally the weirdly striped automobile created a great deal of interest among the red men, who listened attentively to the explanations of the purpose of the futuristic application of paint. It was noticed, however, that certain of the older Indians seemed to look upon the bizarre creation with unusual passiveness. Then, when some of them finally spoke, it became clear that this startling apparition on wheels embodied an idea that had become outworn with the advance of civilization among the Indian tribes.

As these statements became more frequent, the tourists began to search for data that would prove the American Indian to be the original camoufleur. They learned, among other things, that paint on an Indian’s face and body, as well as on his teepee and other personal possessions, was originally used to secure protective coloring, after the species of camouflage instinctively employed by so many members of the animal kingdom.

One wizened squaw, who had lived through a long period of conflict between her people and the early white men, furnished, through an interpreter, an interesting account of how the Indian children of bygone generations were taught to become skillful in disguises. They learned how to use leaves and flowers and other natural products of the forest and field in their hair and clothing so that they could creep through the woods unseen. They learned to blend their bodies with almost any surroundings in which they found themselves, for protection as well as for the successful stalking of game or enemies.

It was a custom, when a young Indian aspired to the estate of warrior, to test him in his ability to successfully camouflage himself. The tourists were told that one demonstration required was that the ambitious youth approach as closely as possible the assembled warriors without being seen. The skill with which the young buck masked himself, blending his body into the foliage of the woods, probably helped determine his standing as a scout or fighter.

Camouflage—by whatever name it originally went—is no longer practiced by the American Indian. Today it is the pale face who employs this ancient means of protection on an enormous scale. And today, through the selective draft, the young American Indian in khaki is brought into contact, on the fields of France, with the modern development of the primitive art of his fathers.

Saturday, August 26, 2017

Frank Lloyd Wright & William Penhallow Henderson

Frank Lloyd Wright and Mason City (2016)
Until recently, we were unaware of the link between architect Frank Lloyd Wright and an admired but lesser-known painter named William Penhallow Henderson (1877-1943).

Most people think of the latter as an artist who was closely tied to artists who settled in Taos NM around the turn of the century. But he was also a capable architect, muralist and furniture designer, in a style that was in keeping with the American Arts and Crafts Movement.

Henderson was born in Massachusetts, but grew up in the Midwest. In the beginning years of the 20th century, he lived and taught in Chicago, at which time Wright was living there. In 1914, while Wright was completing the Midway Gardens on the city’s southside, he commissioned Henderson to design a mural for that project. But when Wright (apparently) objected to the end result, Henderson backed out and the mural was soon painted over. While remaining in Chicago, he designed the costumes and scenery in 1915 for a theatrical production of Alice in Wonderland by the Chicago Fine Arts Theatre.

For health reasons, Henderson and his wife relocated to Santa Fe in 1916. The following year, soon after the US entered World War I, a new system of disruptive ship camouflage was adopted by the British Admiralty and, soon after, the French and Americans did the same. In 1918, Henderson was appointed to serve as a camouflage artist in San Francisco.
USS Western Star (1918) in dazzle camouflage

There he was part of a team of civilian artists who painted dazzle camouflage schemes on merchant ships. As we have blogged previously, the artist in charge of that particular team was Edgar Walter (1877-1938). But Maynard Dixon was also involved, as were (Swedish-born) Bro Julius Olson Nordfeldt, A. Sheldon Pennoyer, and others.

When Henderson returned to Santa Fe with Nordfeldt, his friend and fellow camoufleur, a brief article appeared in the Albuquerque Morning Journal, on December 22, 1918, p. 2, with the headline CAMOUFLEURS IN SANTA FE

William Penhallow Henderson, the noted artist, who has served the shipbuilding board on the Pacific coast as camoufleur, has returned to Santa Fe, with O. Nordfeldt, and etcher and artist of fame, who with Mr. Henderson had charge of the camouflage department at San Francisco. They perfected this art to such a point that the camouflage inspectors in the east compared that of the eastern shipyards with that at San Francisco, Los Angeles and San Diego as standard. Mr. Nordfeldt will remain in Santa Fe over the winter. The two artists brought with them models of camouflaged ships which will be placed on exhibit in the new museum [New Mexico Museum of Art] and will illustrate a museum night talk.

An earlier article about the camouflage efforts of West Coast artists, titled SEEKS TO MAKE ARMY INVISIBLE, appeared in The Daily Ardmoreite (Ardmore OK) on July 11, 1917, p. 1—

San Francisco, July 11—The western division of the American Camouflage [Corps], an organization of artists which has for its object the recruiting of men who can assist in rendering the forces of the United States army and navy invisible to the enemy, was organized here [at the California School of Fine Arts] last night by artists and scene painters.

By the use of color combinations in small squares, map-like patches and other methods, United States battleships have been rendered more nearly invisible than those of any other nation, the members said today…

A month later later, yet another article on SAN FRANCISCO ARCHITECTS AND ARTISTS AS CAMOUFLEURS appeared in Western Architect and Engineer August 1917, p. 58, about which we posted an earlier blog.