Symphony in Bronze
A reflection on the life of the American master sculptor, Augustus Saint-Gaudens, and an exploration of six of his works.
With the National Park Service (NPS) celebrating its centennial this year, we thought it fitting to make our final destination of the season an NPS location. There are currently 413 units under the purview of the NPS, with 78 of those locations sharing the distinction of “national historic site"—by definition “a protected area of national historic significance in the United States, which usually contains a single historical feature directly associated with its subject”.
The Saint-Gaudens National Historic Site, situated in Cornish, NH, was authorized by Congress as such in 1965, and contains, in part, the house, studios, and various works of the American sculptor, Augustus Saint-Gaudens (1848—1907). Far from one of the NPS’s more popular locations, its quiet and sprawling open spaces contribute to the contemplative atmosphere its sculptures both demand and deserve. Cast from the primary molds, the sculptures are considered originals, and are identical in shape and size to the acclaimed installations found in various cities around the US.
The greatest works of art are those which create such a powerful experience that the viewer longs for this encounter, again and again. Such are the works by Saint-Gaudens, one of the greatest sculptors of the 19th century, and certainly the greatest sculptor of the American Beaux Art movement. Pride of place is established in any space his sculptures occupy. “Aspet”, named after his father’s birthplace in the Pyrenees, is the perfect backdrop, combining dramatic expanse of fields, and room-like outdoor spaces that thoughtfully display his bronze works. Image: The Shaw Memorial, long shot.
Augustus Saint-Gaudens was born on March 1, 1848, in Ireland. Within a few months of his birth, his French father and Irish mother left Dublin to escape the Potato Famine, and brought the family to Boston for a short while, eventually settling in NYC. There, his father opened a boot and shoe shop that soon became successful, serving the city’s elite, including the Astors and Morgans. Along with his brothers, Louis and Andrew, he had a knockabout childhood on the streets of the Bowery. Image: The Bowery, 1858, at the time of Saint Gaudens's childhood. (source unknown).
As a young teen, he expressed to his parents that he didn’t care what he did for work as long as it required the use of his hands, and so his father arranged for him to begin an apprenticeship as a cameo cutter. During this time Gus, as he was called, also attended drawing classes at Cooper Union (known then as Cooper Institute) as well as the National Academy of Design, next to which his father’s shop stood. It was here that it was first revealed he possessed a sizable talent.
Image: Augustus Saint-Gaudens (1848-1907), John Tuffs, 1861, shell, Metropolitan Museum of Art, NYC. Earliest known surviving work by Saint-Gaudens executed when he was 13 years old.
The Saint-Gaudens home was an abolitionist household. From the window of the shop where Gus worked as a cameo cutter he witnessed almost every contingent from New England heading off to fight in the American Civil War. Likewise, three times in his life Augustus saw Abraham Lincoln, first, at the age of 12, when he attended a campaign speech Lincoln delivered at Cooper Union, and then again when Lincoln was lying in state at New York’s City Hall just 5 years later; he tolerated the lengthy lines a second time for another viewing of his fallen hero. All of these experiences left in him indelible memories. Image: Abraham Lincoln lying in state, New York City Hall, April 24, 1865 (United Press International).
Once his apprenticeship was completed at age 19, his parents sent him to Europe to further his artistic talents in Paris. He enrolled, as the first American student, at the Ecole des Beaux Arts, studying under the master sculptor, François Juffroy. Already fluent in French, Saint-Gaudens was able to comprehend his studies, allowing him to rapidly excel. He was also extremely affable, and easily made friends with many whom connected him to eventual projects that mattered. Image: Ecole des Beaux Arts, Paris, around the time Saint-Gaudens attended in the late 1860s (source unknown).
During the years he spent in Europe refining his skills he fled France in 1870 to escape the escalation of the Franco-Prussian war, and headed to Italy. Not long after arriving he began what would become his first commission of note. “Hiawatha”, combined an American subject with the sculptural elements of the Italian Renaissance masters, particularly Donatello (1386-1466). Initially sculpted in clay without a benefactor, it eventually was cast in plaster and then, Edwin Morgan, the former governor of New York paid to have it carved in marble. (Morgan would become influential in a future major commission for Saint-Gaudens.). Image: Augustus Saint-Gaudens (1848-1907), Hiawatha, 1871-72; this carving, 1874, Marble, Metropolitan Museum of Art, NYC. (Attribute: Postdlf from W).
During this time, while attending a social gathering, he noticed a young woman standing apart from the crowd, and approached her to introduce himself. Her name was Augusta Homer, a talented American artist who hailed from Boston and was studying painting in Rome. They couldn’t have been more different; he was outgoing and companionable, and she was an introvert, owing partly to a hearing impairment that caused her to retreat in social situations. Despite their personality differences they fell in love. Image: Augusta Homer, 1874 (around the time of her engagement to Augustus). Courtesy of National Park Service, Saint-Gaudens National Historic Site, Cornish, NH.
When Saint-Gaudens eventually asked permission to marry Gussy, her father was hesitant because unlike the Homers, who were members of the Boston Brahmin elite (painter Winslow Homer was a relative), Gus did not come from a prestigious or particularly wealthy family. Mr. Homer required him to first obtain a major commission, as proof of both his connections and ability to make a living as a sculptor; if successful, Augustus could then have Gussy’s hand in marriage. Soon after, he returned to the US in 1874 with his enormous ambition and equal talent to, in his own words, “amaze the world and settle my future.” Image: Augustus Saint-Gaudens, 1874 (around the time of his engagement to Augusta). Courtesy of National Park Service, Saint-Gaudens National Historic Site, Cornish, NH.
“Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead”. These are the words by which popular culture has immortalized Civil War hero, Admiral David Farragut, who spoke them during the Battle of Mobile Bay, 1864. Plans for New York’s first Civil War memorial had been underway since 1873, and was considered the most sought after commission of its time. When Saint-Gaudens submitted his formal application to the selection committee he included recommendations from every prominent person he could tap, including the influential Edwin Morgan. His efforts paid off and he was awarded the project in 1876. It would be his first major commission and one that would ultimately win him critical praise both nationally and internationally. Image: David Farrugut, Life magazine.
On June 3 1877, just 2 days after he and Gussie were married they left for Paris, not to honeymoon, but so Gus could begin work on the Farragut memorial. Unlike in America where sculpture was considered a lesser art form, Europe, and particularly Paris, fully embraced it. It was there he would be able to secure tradesmen whose skills were capable of assisting him with the greatest artistic challenge he had ever attempted. Three years later, and several near disasters, the 900 lb. memorial was completed, packed up and shipped from La Harve to New York. It was also the year their only child, Homer, was born. Image: Augusta and Homer (about 3 years old) Saint-Gaudens. Courtesty National Park Service, Saint-Gaudens National Historic Site, Cornish, NH.
In May of 1881 at its unveiling, the 10,000 people in attendance took a collective gasp: never had anything so modern, so spectacular, so unlike anything ever seen before in American sculpture captured the essence of a memorial like this. It established that America had a past, and equally, a noble one at that.
Farragut’s coat appears to flap in the breeze, suggesting motion, as he stands feet apart with steely gaze, as though looking out from the bow of his ship. Further, that he is represented as himself, rather than as Greek or Roman statesman, is a vast departure from the long-prevailing style—suggesting that we didn’t have to look to Europe’s past to find our national identity, it was here and it was now. It set the art world ablaze and launched the City Beautiful Movement of the late 19th century. It was a level of success that Saint-Gaudens had only dreamed of.
While working on the Farragut monument Saint-Gaudens encountered a young girl named Albertina Hultgren (1869-1910), who had immigrated to the US from Sweden. He considered her the greatest beauty he had ever seen, and changed her name to Davida Clark, which he felt suited her better. Davida became his model and eventually his lover, and in 1889 bore him a son, Louis (Augustus’s middle name). Gus never acknowledged the child publically but provided for him financially. By the 1890s, Augusta became aware of both the affair and the child, and so they were removed to Darien, CT, where Gus would secretly visit them. Somehow, the Saint-Gaudens were able to reconcile the indiscretion, and their love endured throughout their lives. Image: Davida Clark. Courtesy of National Park Service, Saint-Gaudens National Historic Site, Cornish, NH.
Davida was Agustus’s muse for many of his works, including “Diana”, 1891-92, which his friend, the architect Stanford White, had asked him to create to serve as the crowning glory of his Madison Square Garden. Often referred to as the Lady of the Tower, it was the only nude Saint-Gaudens would ever sculpt, and one of the tallest at 18 ft. It featured the face of Davida and the body of a different model, Julia Baird, who was in great demand among artists of the time for having a perfect physique. It caused a sensation when it was erected not only for its overt nakedness, particularly, in a public setting, but, also, its striking proportions and athletic appearance—a very modern departure from the classical motifs, it caused strong debate about what defined physical beauty.
Around this same time, Saint-Gaudens was asked by another friend, author/philosopher, Henry Adams (grandson and great grandson to John Quincy Adams and John Adams) to create a monument for his wife, Marian “Clover” Hooper Adams, who had died in 1885 at the age of 42 from an intentional, lethal ingestion of potassium cyanide. He requested that the figure not resemble his wife, and encouraged Saint-Gaudens to find his inspiration in Buddhist principles concerning life and death, joy and sorrow. The sculpture, all at once, elicits both grief and peace, causing the viewer to contemplate its enigmatic qualities.
Upon viewing it for the first time Adams wept, but refused to discuss his wife’s suicide or the meaning of the sculpture for the remainder of his life. This monument endures as his only comment on the matter. His remains lay next to hers in this unmarked grave at Rock Creek Cemetery in Washington, DC.
Victorian society regarded feminine beauty as the highest form of humanity, assigning to it qualities of mercy, compassion and selflessness, traits Saint-Gaudens embraced both personally, and in the ornamental tablet, “Amor Caritas” (love and charity). The figure, an ethereal being, in fact, stands upon a pedestal, and is draped around her head and waist by passion flowers, a symbol of serenity.
It bears noting that this motif was utilized for several pieces, including a memorial tablet gifted to the Unitarian Society, Fall River, MA in honor of Nancy Legge Wood Hooper, a relative of Clover Adams who died 2 years after her in 1887 (this piece currently belongs to the Seattle Art Museum). The long-sufferings Augustus imposed upon both Davida and Augusta reflect the great disparity between men and women of this era.
The Saint-Gaudens came to Cornish, NH through the confluence of his next commission and his friend and attorney, Samuel Beamon. Beamon owned an investment property there, and encouraged Gus to rent the house knowing his friend would find “many Lincoln-shaped men” around Cornish whom he could use as inspiration for the Abraham Lincoln memorial the City of Chicago had recently entrusted him to create. Image: house and studio at "Aspet".
Gussie loved the idea of getting out of NYC, and away from the steady stream of visitors who came to see Gus. Conversely, Gus, was not as enthusiastic, being ever the city-dweller, but, in the end, he cautiously relented and it became their summer retreat. Upon arriving in April of 1885, they immediately set about updating the house and grounds; they purchased the property in 1891 for $2,400, having adapted it to suit their needs, including converting a barn into a sculpture studio. Image: Saint-Gauden's studio, erected after a devasting fire in 1904 claimed his original studio, destroying works (some in progress) and notebooks among other irreplaceable items.
Through his residency here, the Cornish Art Colony was established; one of America’s earliest art colonies, his contemporaries, like Maxfield Parrish, (1870-1966) purchased nearby properties mostly as summer residences. An interconnecting walking path was created so they could visit one another, and it still exists today. Image: The Cornish Art Colony putting on a "Masque" or allegorical pageant to celebrate Saint Gaudens 20th anniversary in Cornish. The monument behind them became the Saint-Gaudens family's final resting place. Courtesy of National Park Service, Saint-Gaudens National Historic Site, Cornish, NH.
“Standing Lincoln”, aka, “The Man”, was the first piece that Saint-Gaudens created at “Aspet”, and, it became, decades later, the impetus that led President Johnson to award park status on the Cornish property. He was given the commission after several other artists’ designs failed to capture the committee’s interest. Owning the life mask and hand castings of President Lincoln, which sculptor, Leonard Volk made in 1860, he consulted these pieces for this work. Life mask and hands of Abraham Lincoln, 1860, bronze, by Leonard Well Volk (1828-1895), Washington, DC, Smithsonian Institute (purchased by Augustus Saint-Gaudens for the museum).
Just as Beamon had suggested, the model for the torso was located in nearby Windsor, Vermont, where Langdon Morse, a 6’4” farmer lived. After various poses were considered a standing posture was ultimately favored. Image: Saint-Gaudens with “Standing Lincoln”. Courtesy of National Park Service, Saint-Gaudens National Historic Site, Cornish, NH.
Almost 3 years later, on Oct. 22, 1887, Abraham Lincoln’s 14 year old grandson and namesake unveiled the sculpture in Lincoln Park, Chicago. His father, Robert Todd (the only child of the Lincolns’ 4 sons to survive to adulthood), considered “Standing Lincoln” to be the best likeness ever rendered of the president, as well as a pure projection of personality.
The combination of Saint-Gaudens meticulous attention to detail and his great devotion to the man makes “Standing Lincoln” not only one of his greatest works but an icon in American diplomatic sculpture. With the toe of his shoe extending over the edge of the pedestal, it appears as though, Lincoln, deep in thought, is about to step right off the plinth. He stands in front of an elaborate chair replete with egalitarian symbols; emblematic of the seat of government, it’s meant to evoke the heavy responsibilities he bore, and to which he will forever be inextricably tied.
“Committed to death”, that’s how Vincent Scully, Sterling Professor Emeritus at Yale described the men of the “Shaw Memorial”. Considered Saint-Gaudens finest work, it captures the first steps taken by the 54th Regiment Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry, marching from Boston on their way towards doom. Its earliest beginnings unfolded immediately after the Civil War in 1865, when it was suggested by the survivors of the 54th that a memorial should be erected to honor its fallen near their mass grave at Fort Wagner, South Carolina. The project was soon abandoned, however, due, in large part, to hostility expressed by indignant white locals. Image: Morris Island, approaching the former site of Fort Wagner. Matt Stanley, photograph, 2012. It is here that 281 brave soldiers of the 54th are buried in a mass grave, along with their Colonel, Robert Gould Shaw.
Shortly thereafter in Boston, Joshua Benton Smith, a black businessman, reignited interest in the memorial, to honor Col. Robert Gould Shaw (1837-1863), whom he had known as a child while working for the Shaw family, after having escaped his own enslavement. Consequently, a committee comprised of prominent city leaders was formed, and its fundraising efforts encompassed almost another 2 decades. Image: Robert Gould Shaw. Library of Congress, Washington, D.C.
Finally, in 1883, Saint-Gaudens was awarded the commission, but it would not be realized for another 14 years—the longest it ever took him to complete a single work. At first, his designs included only the Colonel, which Shaw’s parents opposed due to the omission of the intrepid infantrymen, and they asked Saint-Gaudens to rework the composition to include them. Always devoted to detail, he sketched 40 different heads of African American men hired as his models. He strove for the utmost accuracy when researching the proper uniforms, weapons and accoutrements that had been used a generation earlier. This took time, as did the execution, causing frayed nerves on both sides leading up to the dedication on Memorial Day (or Decoration Day as it was then called before nationwide observance), in 1897—a whole 32 years after the War had ended. But according to firsthand accounts, it was worth the wait.
Draped with 2 large American flags, which 2 of Robert Shaw’s nephews removed at precisely 11:17 on that cool and drizzly morning, the tableau-esque sculpture was beheld by thousands of onlookers. Some of the remaining soldiers of the 54th marched by, a few resplendent in their faded uniforms as the band played “John Brown’s Body” and “Battle Hymn of the Republic”. Saint-Gaudens mused that it appeared as though these old men were returning home from war, as they made their way down Beacon St., marching opposite in direction to the bronze soldiers—it was a kind of homecoming. A 17 gun salute sounded on the Boston Common, and off in the distance, more artillery fire could be heard coming from the Harbor where 3 battleships each fired off a 21 gun salute. Image: Dedication of the Memorial to Robert Gould Shaw and the 54th Massachusetts Regiment, Boston, 31 May 1897, for publication in the Boston Journal, Massachusetts Historical Society.
The fact that the 54th was the first African-American infantry unit to fight for the Union during the Civil War is reason enough to deserve such a memorial, and for many a passerby that is where the story begins and ends. But the 54th’s tale involves so much more than just that extraordinary achievement. The enlisted served without pay for 18 months, and faced enslavement (and worse) if captured in battle. Further, they proved that African Americans possessed “the pride, courage and devotion of the patriot soldier”. Likewise, the officers who commanded them risked additional peril serving with untried soldiers, and faced severe rebuke from a hostile enemy enraged that they should collaborate with a despised race. In battle, both the soldiers and their commanders faced death with uncommon valor.
Leading the assault at Fort Wagner, the 54th quickly realized the hopelessness of the situation in the face of overwhelming resistance, and began to fall back, but Col. Shaw encouraged them to regroup, shouting “Onward boys! Onward boys!”. Shortly thereafter he was shredded by multiple Confederate bullets and died instantly. In the end, 42% of its ranks were killed in that battle. From the legacy of their bravery other black units were raised, and before the war ended 180,000 such Americans had enlisted. Image: The Gallant Charge of the Fifty Fourth Massachusestts (Colored) Regiment, by Currier & Ives, New York, 1863. (Gilder Lehrman Collection).
Knowing this much, the Shaw memorial stirs, and it moves the viewer. From the erect figure of Col. Shaw upon his proud horse to the determined, forward-leaning soldiers in lockstep aside him, they are perpetually marching towards eternity as the angel floating above grasps poppies (death) and an olive branch (peace) in each hand, stoically guiding them to their destiny. The sculpture was installed at the foot of Boston's City Hall on Beacon Street, a place where the unit had passed by on May 28, 1863, in similar formation. One can only imagine the energy swirling about during their pass in review as they marched by, uniformed, armed, and black.
The sculpture was executed in such a high-relief that the figures, especially Shaw, are presented practically in the round, and appear almost separate from the wall to which they are attached, adding to the overall implied movement of the work. It is bold and it is unforgettable, leaving you wanting to visit it again and again.
Three years after the “Shaw Memorial” was installed, and at the apex of his career, Saint-Gaudens was diagnosed with intestinal cancer. Immediately following the Paris World’s Fair of 1900 where he had just been awarded both the Legion of Honor and the Grand-Prix , he and Gussie returned to Boston where he underwent surgery. Afterward, they decided to move to “Aspet” fulltime where he would live out his final days. He never saw Davida and their son Louis again, and she, herself, passed away from cancer in 1910 at the age of 48. Image: Photo credit: Davida and Louis around 1904. Courtesy of National Park Service, Saint-Gaudens National Historic Site, Cornish, NH
Modern medical treatments failed to stem the progress of the disease, but Gus remained productive even as he gradually grew weaker. From his special sedan (a movable couch), he would instruct his assistants in executing his designs. He garnered numerous awards and grand accolades honoring him for his lifetime of achievement, as people couldn't imagine a world without him and struggled to let him go. Portrait of Augustus Saint-Gaudens, 1890s. Courtesy of National Park Service, Saint-Gaudens National Historic Site, Cornish, NH.
As he lay watching the sun set over Mt. Ascutney from his front porch at “Aspet”, he turned to his son, Homer, and mused: “It’s very beautiful, but I want to go farther away”. He died a few days later on August 3, 1907.
Image: the house porch looking toward Mt. Ascutney.
By 1915, revere for Saint-Gaudens and his work waned as cultural shifts caused other ideas on art to emerge. The body of his work came to be seen as irrelevant, and thus undervalued, his monuments fell into disrepair (some were even destroyed). It wasn’t until the 1960s that renewed interest in his work was stimulated by fresh perspectives, and once again, great appreciation was restored. Image: Saint-Gaudens family grave at "Aspet". Augustus, Augusta, and Homer are all interred here, along with several other of their family members.
Art shows us who we are, and who we’ve been, and here’s the thing: a mirror can’t really tell us who we are but only cast an image for us to reflect upon; the image means nothing until we consider it and define it. Art is a kind of consolation prize when humankind’s capacity for greatness is in doubt. It’s proof-of-brilliance in humanity, and then, just as one feels standing before a Saint-Gaudens sculpture …we have hope. Image: detail of "Amor Caritas" reflecting pool.
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