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Review
Jacob Lawrence dead at 82: a major American painter
By Fred Mazelis
16 June 2000
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Jacob Lawrence, who died on June 9 at the age of 82, was a
significant American painter. His work was rooted in US history,
particularly in the struggle against slavery and racial oppression.
Shaped by the great changes of the first half of the twentieth
century, his painting has lost none of its power at the opening
of the twenty-first.
Sixty years ago, Lawrence was the first black artist to achieve
prominence in what was still a largely segregated art world and
society as a whole. For the past six decades he has remained the
most celebrated African-American painter, past or present.
Lawrence was born on September 17, 1917 and his formative years
were the 1920s and 30s. These were the years of the great black
migration, which saw one million people move from the rural South
to the urban North in the period between 1916 and 1930.
The 1920s also saw the emergence of the Harlem Renaissance,
the artistic and cultural awakening within the rapidly growing
black community centered in the neighborhood just north of Manhattan's
Central Park. Lawrence was to meet most of the major figures in
this cultural circle, including Howard University professor Alain
Locke, writer and poet Langston Hughes, novelists Richard Wright
and Ralph Ellison, and painters William Johnson and Aaron Douglas.
Locke urged black writers and artists to turn to African and
folk traditions, a conception used by some to argue for a kind
of cultural nationalism and separatism. Meanwhile, however, the
Great Depression spurred a turn toward broader political struggles
on the part of black intellectuals. Langston Hughes and others
began to focus on the struggle against racism as part of a universal
struggle for social equality. Lawrence's whole body of work places
him squarely in this tradition of humanism and social struggle.
As one art historian wrote in the catalogue for a major retrospective
of Lawrence's work in 1974: There is something monolithic
about Jacob Lawrence and his work, a hard core of undeviating
seriousness and commitment to both social and Black consciousness....
He has at the same time continued to insist on the larger human
struggle for freedom and social justice in all the world and for
all people.
Lawrence's mature style had already crystallized by the late
1930s, when he was in his early 20s. He began to work on narrative
cycles, producing 30 or more paintings devoted to a single subject.
He achieved major prominence in 1941, when he was only 24 years
old, with the exhibition of his series of 60 paintings entitled
The Migration of the Negro. The Museum of Modern Art
in New York and The Phillips Collection in Washington, DC both
expressed interest in these paintings, and in 1942 they were sold,
each institution taking half of the total.
Diverse influences contributed to the unique style of this
young artist. Lawrence was shaped by international artistic trends
and social struggles. Among those he looked to were the great
Mexican muralists, especially Jose Clemente Orozco.
In addition to his association with major figures of the Harlem
Renaissance, Lawrence studied as a teenager in the Harlem Art
Workshop, funded by the newly-established federal Works Progress
Administration. In 1936 he enrolled at the American Artists School,
where he met artists who were political activists involved in
the Scottsboro case, the frame-up of nine black youth in Alabama
on rape charges. During this period Lawrence also met the painter
Gwendolyn Knight, who was to become his wife and who survives
him, after 59 years of marriage.
The earliest work of Lawrence, from 1935, reflects the political
ferment of these years. It satirizes life in Harlem during the
Depression. He depicts poverty, poor health care, police harassment,
evictions and racial discrimination.
But the young painter never saw his art as simply the vehicle
for a political statement. He fought to master the whole history
of painting, walking the 60 blocks between his home and the Metropolitan
Museum of Art to learn from the work of such Renaissance masters
as Botticelli and his contemporaries in fifteenth century Italy.
Other influences were such leading American artists as Stuart
Davis, whose cubist-influenced style bears some resemblance to
Lawrence's work; Romare Bearden, one of the best-known African-American
painters; Charles Sheeler, the leader of Precisionism, with its
focus on technology and industry; and Ben Shahn, who was close
to the Communist Party in this period and did much work on social
and political subjects.
Lawrence forged a unique and original style. He combined the
tempera technique (pigment mixed with a binder consisting of egg
yolk thinned with water) with a cubist style. All of his work
was unmistakably modern, but remained within the framework of
realism and figurative painting at the same time.
A few years before his death Lawrence came close to spelling
out his own aesthetic credo when he told a critic approvingly
that, with Orozco, you had both content and form, social
content and abstract form. This unity of abstraction and
social realism was also characteristic of Lawrence's work, and
something he shared with other artists of the period between the
First and Second World Wars.
In 1938 Lawrence was able to obtain a position with the WPA's
Federal Art Project, working in the easel division. Over the next
18 months, while the federal government provided at least some
support for struggling artists, the young painter produced two
narrative series, on the lives of abolitionists Frederick Douglass
and Harriet Tubman. Earlier, in his first major narrative series,
he had produced 41 paintings on Toussaint L'Ouverture, the Haitian
revolutionary who led the struggle for Haitian independence in
the early years of the nineteenth century.
The Migration Series was and remains the most famous of Lawrence's
works. Parts of it have been exhibited on numerous occasions.
The entire series was brought together in the middle of the 1990s,
for the first time in 20 years, in a traveling exhibition organized
by the Phillips Collection that also came to New York City.
Lawrence had never visited the South when he painted the series,
but that did not prevent him from understanding his subject. As
he explained in an interview in 1992, I grew up the son
of migrants.... My mother and father were on their way North when
I was born in Atlantic City, New Jersey, so at the very beginning
of my understanding of communication with words I was very much
aware of this movement.
With the help of a fellowship, Lawrence rented his first studio,
providing enough space to lay out all 60 panels of the work. As
in all of the narrative cycles he had painted, the individual
paintings were each accompanied by captions.
The Migration Series begins and ends with images of the railroad
station. The first 30 panels deal with South and the journey to
the North, scenes of the railroad station reappearing from time
to time along with the refrain, And the migrants kept coming.
This repetition is used by the artist to drive home the scope
and relentless logic of the big movement of masses of people.
The South from which the migrants sought to flee is vividly
depicted. In panels 6, 7 and 8, for instance, Lawrence presents
a series of bleak agricultural scenes. Panel 11 shows a room with
a single candle providing light, an undernourished child eating
an inadequate meal. The caption reads, They were very poor.
The simple words gather strength from the accompanying image and
from its placement in the series as a whole.
The paintings reveal that far more than poverty fueled the
migration. Panels 14, 15 and 16 show, in succession, two figures
before a judge, then a noose dangling from a bare tree limb, then
a close-up of a grieving woman.
The second half of the series goes on to the North. Here Lawrence
shows with tremendous power that the migration did not solve the
problems of the impoverished and exploited African-American, but
only shifted the terrain of the struggle. He shows Chicago's stockyards
and, in panel 45, Pittsburgh's steel mills, with a family hopefully
pointing to the factories that they expect will bring them decent
lives. The very next panel, however, shows a labor camp, with
eight sleeping in one room, the dark gloom relieved only by a
colorful quilt brought from the South. Other panels show black
workers being tricked into taking jobs as strikebreakers.
Lawrence shows that, even in the segregated South, the struggle
was not simply a racial one. In one panel he shows a prison window
whose bars are gripped by two white hands, and the caption reads,
The South. A simple metaphor thus shows the real purpose
of segregation in dividing and exploiting the entire working class.
The series concludes with a look at the new black neighborhoods
in the North. Here too Lawrence shows that the struggle did not
end with the migration, and that it was not only a racial one.
He depicts emerging class divisionsthe wealthy in top hat
and furs, along with the newcomers ignored by the black middle
class.
In the long career that followed The Migration Series, Lawrence
explored other forms, including limited edition prints and large
scale murals, but he did not substantially alter his basic themes
of history and urban life.
During the Second World War, after being drafted into the Coast
Guard, he served on board the first racially integrated ship in
US naval history. Allowed to paint full-time, he chose the ship's
crew, rather than heroic images of combat or officers and ships,
as his subject. One result, completed after the war, was The War
Series, a cycle of 14 images which includes a depressed black
soldier, a boat full of wounded men, and a mourning mother.
In the 1950s, with the prominence of abstract expressionism,
Lawrence swam against the stream in certain respects.
He continued to deal with social themes and to produce figurative
painting. During the 50s and 60s he produced a narrative series
on early US history and work on contemporary subjects, including
the civil rights struggles. He was criticized by some as insufficiently
radical, but this had little to do with genuine radicalism or
serious art. Lawrence was consistent in his outlook, and did not
join in the sometimes-fashionable expressions of nationalism and
separatism. He traveled to Africa, and even lived there briefly
in the 1960s, but returned to the US after eight months.
Teaching also took up much of Lawrence's time, partly in order
to make a living but also because he wanted to give the benefit
of his experiences to subsequent generations. His teaching career
had started in the 1940s, when the German-born artist Josef Albers,
a leader of the Bauhaus who had been forced to flee after the
Nazis came to power, invited Lawrence to Black Mountain College,
the progressive institution that had been set up in the 1930s
in North Carolina, and which provided a creative environment for
many young writers and artists in the two decades of its existence.
Lawrence later taught at Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, at The
New School for Social Research and the Art Students League and,
from 1971 until his retirement in 1986, at the University of Washington
in Seattle.
The artist continued to work until the end of his life, though
afflicted with a variety of serious ailments. His murals can be
seen in Chicago, Seattle, Howard University in Washington, DC,
and the Addabbo Federal Building in New York City. Three years
ago he designed a 72-foot mural that is scheduled for installation
at the Times Square subway station in New York in 2001.
Lawrence's work is now represented in nearly 200 museums, including
the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Art Institute of Chicago,
the National Gallery of Art, the Brooklyn Museum of Art and the
Studio Museum in Harlem. He has been the subject of three major
retrospectives, at the Brooklyn Museum in 1960, the Whitney Museum
in New York in 1974, and the Seattle Art Museum in 1986. The Phillips
Collection in Washington is scheduled to mount a retrospective
next year.
This week The New York Times, following its obituary
article for Lawrence, published an unusually warm personal appreciation
of the artist by its chief art critic, Michael Kimmelman. Kimmelman
pays tribute to Lawrence by quoting him on one of his favorite
paintings, Sassetta's Journey of the Magi at the Metropolitan
Museum. Lawrence spoke of the artist's simplicity
and explained that this did not mean it was easily arrived at.
Alongside the formal rigor is an emotional authenticity,
a phrase which Kimmelman declares describes [Lawrence's]
own work in a nutshell.
This enabled Lawrence to deal with common black people
whose lives he showed to be heroic, to tell universal
stories bigger than any particular man or movement, to illustrate
dignity through struggle. Kimmelman also points out that
Lawrence's work is joyful. This is not too strong
a word. There is something deeply, not superficially, optimistic
about his achievement, and it is connected to his ability to connect
to the aspirations of masses of people. The emotional authenticity
is the expression of a man who has a deep feeling for the struggle
for human progress. As the artist told a biographer about a decade
ago, We don't have a physical slavery, but an economic slavery.
If these people, who were so much worse off than the people today,
could conquer their slavery, we certainly can do the same thing.
They had to liberate themselves without any education. Today we
can't go about it in the same way. Any leadership would have to
be the type of Frederick Douglass.... How will it come about?
I don't know. I'm not a politician. I'm an artist, just trying
to do my part to bring this thing about.
The Jacob and Gwendolyn Lawrence Foundation, founded last year,
is devoted to the creation, presentation and study of American
art, with particular emphasis on the work of African-American
artists. More information about the work of the Foundation and
the work of Jacob Lawrence can be obtained at www.jacoblawrence.org
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