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Showing posts with label Treasure Island. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Treasure Island. Show all posts

Monday, February 19, 2018

Peter Pan and Andrew Wyeth

I discovered this unlikely connection at Winter is Always, the recent Andrew Wyeth retrospective at Seattle Art Museum. As I've observed before, I find reflections of J. M. Barrie's famous character in  many unexpected places.




"Christina's World" is certainly Andrew Wyeth's most famous painting (although it was not at the SAM exhibit--it lives at MOMA in New York and does not travel). The history of the land around him--his home in Chadd's Ford, Pennsylvania, and a summer home in Maine--permeates all of Wyeth's work, and that leads us forthwith to his connection with fictional pirates.


Captain Keitt by Howard Pyle (1907)

I've written before in this blog about Howard Pyle, the illustrator who brought the image of the quintessential swashbuckling pirate to the modern world.




One of Pyle's students in Chadds Ford, Pennsylvania, was N. C. (Newell Convers) Wyeth, Andrew's father. N. C. Wyeth illustrated 112 books during his lifetime, including a 1911 edition of Treasure Island which is considered a masterpiece.


"Trodden Weed," 1951

Wyeth painted this self-portrait of sorts, Trodden Weed, with a piratical pair of boots previously owned by Howard Pyle.


Painter's Folly (1989). The house went up for sale in 2014 and
was ultimately bought by the township of Chadd's Ford in 2017.
Note the mermaids!

Andrew Wyeth considered Pyle his "spiritual grandfather," said Joyce Hill Stoner, the art conservator who worked for the Wyeths for thirty years. Pyle's house, Painter's Folly was the subject of several of Wyeth's paintings, as were Helen and George Sipala, the couple who lived in the house during his lifetime.

Andrew Wyeth (1917-2009) was often in poor health as a child and was home-tutored. He had a difficult relationship with his demanding father, who died when his car stalled on railroad tracks when Andrew was 28. He considered his father's death to be a formative emotional event--much as J. M. Barrie was affected by his brother's death. After this, Wyeth turned from watercolors to egg tempera (i think Captain Hook would approve of this old-fashioned technique), which gives his work a stark and timeless quality.




Perhaps it is odd that I was so alert to connections to Peter Pan, but note the hook appendage in this portrait of Wyeth's neighbor Bill Hoper, a blacksmith and handyman. The docent who discussed the exhibit at SAM said that Wyeth's father wouldn't have approved of so much reality in a portrait--not an issue for Andrew.

Although he was one of the foremost American artists of the twentieth century, his style of work became unfashionable during his lifetime, considered too sentimental by those who preferred their art abstract. I admit I was drawn to seeing this exhibit because a friend of mine described it as bleak, and I hoped I would find some comfort in that given my own mindset after the death of my father last September. What I found in Andrew Wyeth's paintings was imagery that is almost surreal, realism that expands into symbol and emotion, a depth beneath what has been dismissed as cartoonish or antiquated. This is what I hope in some small way to bring to my portrayal of Captain James Hook: something close to the heart, or maybe the bone.

“Life is strange,” Wyeth once told [Edgar Allen Beem]. “From the outside, things may look one way, but when you look inside, they’re very different.”

*  *  *

Note for further reading: I came across A Piece of the World, a fictionalized memoir of Christina Olson of "Christina's World," not long after seeing the Winter is Always exhibit. Naturally, it is now on my reading list.





Wednesday, August 23, 2017

Captain of his soul

I would hate to say that I've been so wrapped in the minutiae of Peter Pan that I've missed some obvious facts connected with it, but I did not comprehend until today that William Ernest Henley--inspiration for the character of Long John Silver and also father of the young girl who gave J. M. Barrie's Wendy Darling her first name--wrote the poem Invictus. If today weren't Henley's birthday, and if Garrison Keillor hadn't mentioned him on today's edition of The Writer's Almanac, I don't know when I might have realized this.


November 26, 1892, illustration
of Henley in Vanity Fair by artist
Leslie Ward.


Born on August 23, 1849, Henley contracted tuberculosis of the bone and had his left leg amputated below the knee when he was 20. The experience led to his poem Invictus, written in 1875 and published in 1888.

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeoning of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.



While it's this that Henley is most remembered for, he also lives on as the inspiration for the pirate Long John Silver in Robert Louis Stevenson's Treasure Island--and  thus all the interpretations of the character that have followed since.


2002 Disney animated feature. I may once have
attended a sci-fi convention dressed as
Captain Amelia.


"I will now make a confession: It was the sight of your maimed strength and masterfulness that begot Long John Silver ... the idea of the maimed man, ruling and dreaded by the sound, was entirely taken from you," wrote Stevenson in a letter to Henley after Treasure Island was published--a line that rather reminds one of a certain Captain James Hook.

But lest you think Henley was dour and embittered by his injury and the struggles of being recognized as a poet (he found arguably greater success during his life as a journalist, critic, and editor), he was described by Stevenson's stepson, Lloyd Osbourne, as "... a great, glowing, massive-shouldered fellow with a big red beard and a crutch; jovial, astoundingly clever, and with a laugh that rolled like music; he had an unimaginable fire and vitality; he swept one off one's feet."




William Ernest Henley died in 1903 at the age of 53, leaving behind not only several volumes of poetry and critiques but also three plays written with Robert Louis Stevenson.

And returning to Peter Pan, as always we must here at Hook's Waltz, J. M. Barrie was a friend of Stevenson and found his own inspiration in  the character of Long John Silver. And it was Henley's five-year-old daughter Margaret who may have been the inventor of the name Wendy. Sadly, Margaret died of meningitis in 1894, at the age of 6, eight years before the play Peter Pan was first performed.