The Fight between Justice and Ego in an Artist
Though tremendously admirable in his life and work,
Sloan had the fight within himself that is in every person. In TRO 1295,
"Art, Integrity and Self-Doubt," Ellen Reiss writes:
an artist, because he so much wants to give justice
to the world, can feel even more troubled than others by the unseen fight
within him between this beautiful purpose and the other, ugly purpose--contempt.
In his biography of Sloan,
Brooks tells of another side of the artist--he had a quick, bitter tongue
which Sloan himself called a "tabasco tongue." And Brooks writes that Sloan
had "a streak of perversity ...when he took the opposite side in a discussion
almost automatically and rejoiced that he made enemies thereby." I feel
this unseen fight within him between respect--the desire to "so much want
to give justice to the world--"and the desire to have contempt--had him
"even more troubled" than others. Sloan was plagued by stomach trouble--severe
jaundice attacks--throughout his life, and in later years, had three gall
bladder operations. He also suffered for a time from diplopia or "double
vision."
In his marriage,
I believe, Sloan couldn't make sense of how on the one hand he needed his
wife, Dolly, very much and how he also wanted to dismiss her. Aesthetic
Realism has defined love as "proud need," and once, speaking to a man,
Mr. Siegel said:
Most often when we need another person we are
ashamed: we feel less ourselves. So the question is, What do you need your
wife for, and do you respect what you might need her for?
From what I have read, in the 42 years they were
married, it appears that Dolly encouraged Sloan's art, and also his feeling
for justice by being a force herself in behalf of labor, organizing demonstrations,
meetings and strikes. He was proud to need her for that. But, there was
much turmoil and shame as well. Dolly had had a painful childhood, losing
both parents by the time she was 3. She developed a drinking problem in
her teens which continued on and off throughout her life. In his diaries,
while Sloan indicates some worry about her, he speaks of Dolly almost entirely
in a domestic sense--as cooking, sewing, helping to entertain friends.
There's no sense of her as person with thoughts of her own, hopes, a seeing
of the world and of him that he could have learned from--something which
would have encouraged and strengthened her. Mr. Siegel once said, "the
artist in a person often runs ahead of the man." I believe Sloan as husband
did not see as deeply and kindly as Sloan the artist and it hurt both of
their lives.
What John Sloan needed
to know, I am fortunate to be learning now in Aesthetic Realism classes
taught by Ellen Reiss. Before Lynette and I were married, I was very happy
but also somewhat self-satisfied. In a class. Miss Reiss asked me: "Do
you think you have a fight between wanting to see keen, deep, alive meaning
in Lynette Abel and also wanting to take her for granted?" I said, "Yes."
She explained with critical humor that a man can feel, "didn't I give enough
homage to her [just by wanting to marry her?]" I saw this was true, and
I've become a better critic of myself and I believe a kinder husband. I
see "keen, deep, alive meaning" in my wife--in her care for music, literature,
graphic arts, her passion that Aesthetic Realism be known and justice come
to people. As a man who was once determined to feel that he didn't need
anybody, I'm proud to need her, and I love her.
The Desire for Justice Is Deep
Following World War I, though no longer politically
active, John Sloan still showed large desire to be just to people. Beginning
in 1919, he and Dolly spent summers in Sante Fe, New Mexico. There he was
greatly moved by Native American dances, painting, pottery, and played
a leading role in bringing the first important exhibitions of Native American
art to New York.
In 1943, while Sloan
was recovering from his third gall bladder operation, and Dolly was taking
care of him, she died suddenly of a heart attack at his bedside. She was
66. Sloan, weak from his illness, felt lost for months and did little painting.
Then, a correspondence began with a former student of his, Helen Farr;
who wrote to him, saying she wanted him to be able to paint again with
the passion and vitality he once had. When Sloan answered, saying he was
now leading "a lonely, purposeless life," Helen Farr took a train to Santa
Fe, impelled to encourage the best thing in him. Less than a year later,
they were married. Sloan was 72 years old and she, 32. They were soon back
in New York, living and painting together for the next eight years. After
Sloan's death in 1951, Helen devoted the rest of her life to having his
work valued truly, as it has been increasingly these years.
What John Sloan was hoping
for is in the sentence by Ellen Reiss from The Right Of with
which I end my paper: "Because of Aesthetic Realism, artists and everyone
can at last learn what is the best thing in us and what is the worst, and
be able to have the best not just incidental and accidental but thriving,
steady, victorious."
*
Return
to beginning
|
