The Mentor: Makers of American Art, Vol. 1, Num. 45, Serial No. 45

In Short

This volume serves as a concise, educational overview of the foundational period of American painting. It examines the careers of influential artists such as Copley, West, Stuart, and Trumbull, documenting their evolution from isolated colonial craftsmen to internationally recognized masters. By analyzing the shift from practical portraiture to ambitious historical allegories, the text explains how these men provided the visual language for America's new heroes. It remains a valuable historical document for understanding how a young nation first articulated its social, political, and cultural self-image through the medium of oil.

The Story

The narrative begins in the colonial era, a time described as "pictorially uncultured," where art was strictly a commercial endeavor. The early American painter functioned primarily as a craftsman, fulfilling the demand of prosperous landowners and officials who wished to emulate the aristocracy of the Old World. In this period, portraiture served as a genealogical record rather than an artistic expression. Despite the lack of formal training or high-quality examples, the text notes the surprising emergence of singular talents like John Singleton Copley, who captured the stoic, reserved spirit of New England society with remarkable truth.

As the colonies moved toward independence and subsequent prosperity, the demand for portraiture expanded from private family records to the documentation of political heroes. This transition marked a significant development: the rise of the historical canvas. Artists were commissioned to celebrate dramatic moments of the Revolution, formalizing the nation’s history in paint. Benjamin West, having relocated to London, became a pivotal bridge in this evolution. As a respected mentor to nearly every significant American artist of the era, West provided a gateway to European training and technique. While his own grand, melodramatic biblical paintings are critiqued for lacking spontaneity and true color, his influence on the succeeding generation was profound. He encouraged his students to move beyond classicism and, in his Death of Wolfe, even dared to paint figures in contemporary dress, a radical shift toward a more naturalistic representation of history.

The story follows the careers of these pupils, notably the Peale family, John Trumbull, and Gilbert Stuart. The Peales, with their uninspired but reliable craftsmanship, recorded the appearance of the era’s leadership. Trumbull focused his energy on the Revolutionary period, aiming for an accurate, graphic record of events like the signing of the Declaration of Independence. However, it is Gilbert Stuart who emerges as the aesthetic standout. Moving away from the stiff, labored formality of his predecessors, Stuart introduced a fresh, brilliant color palette and a sense of vitality that turned his subjects into living people. His work, particularly his portraits of George Washington, effectively shaped the nation’s modern regard for its founders.

The narrative concludes with the mid-nineteenth-century arrival of Washington Allston and the subsequent shift toward landscape and genre painting. Allston, described as a man of great intellectual refinement, brought a poetic, allegorical spirit to American art that resonated with literary figures like Coleridge but failed to ignite the same popular fervor as portraiture. As the century progressed, the portrait began to lose its total dominance, yielding space to landscapes and compositions painted for their own sake, signaling the maturation of American art into a diverse, independent practice.

How It Unfolds

The colonial foundation The account opens with a critique of the barren, commercial nature of early American art, where portraits were merely utilitarian status symbols. It establishes the unlikely rise of skilled native artists who flourished without formal instruction or institutional support.

The influence of London The narrative shifts to the essential role of Benjamin West, whose London studio became the informal academy for American painters. It details how this mentorship provided the necessary exposure to European techniques and established a tradition of grand, historical subject matter.

The recording of heroes The middle section focuses on the fixation with portraying political leaders, specifically George Washington. It describes the labor of artists like Trumbull and the Peales, who sought to capture the dignity of the Revolutionary era through accurate, if sometimes literal, documentation.

The emergence of style The text highlights Gilbert Stuart’s arrival as the turning point where technical authority and psychological depth finally coalesced. It contrasts his humanizing approach with the more mechanical records of his peers.

The transition of subjects The final movement follows the rise of intellectually driven painters like Allston and the emergence of the nude and landscape in the American canon. It marks the decline of the ancestral portrait’s preeminence as artists began to seek beauty and storytelling as primary goals.

The People

John Singleton Copley stands as the first able native artist, capturing the moral atmosphere of Colonial Boston with a dignity that became a hallmark of New England aristocracy. Benjamin West, the "generous mentor," serves as the anchor for the entire generation; though his own work is viewed as overly melodramatic, his willingness to open his home and studio to young compatriots determined the trajectory of American art.

Charles Willson Peale and his family represent the persistent, industrious record-keepers of the era, whose primary goal was the faithful documentation of political figures. John Trumbull, a former soldier, brings a sense of historical duty to his work, aiming to preserve the events of the Revolution with meticulous accuracy. Gilbert Stuart, conversely, is characterized as a master of personality; he struggles with personal financial instability and a lack of fastidiousness, yet he possesses a brilliant, intuitive grasp of color and character that surpasses his peers. Finally, Washington Allston represents the high-minded, sensitive intellectual, whose commitment to art as an "intellectual expression" stands in sharp contrast to the commercial origins of his predecessors, marking a shift toward the artist as a man of culture and letters.

In Its Own Voice

"In those prephotographic days records were desired of the appearance of people who were gradually coming into an easier mode of living than their ancestors, the hardy pioneers, had been able to acquire."

This observation explains the original, commercial impetus behind the birth of American portraiture.

"He did not go abroad until he was thirty-seven years old; in England he was well received, and had many commissions."

This notes the later career trajectory of Copley, who established his reputation in Boston before seeking wider recognition in London.

"Stuart had not the faculty for design and composition to the extent of the great Englishmen, Reynolds and Gainsborough; but he had a technic that was not inferior."

This provides a balanced assessment of Stuart’s position within the broader context of eighteenth-century portraiture.

What It's Really About

At its core, the text explores the tension between art as a trade and art as a pursuit of high culture. It examines the "law of demand and supply" that governed the early American painter, arguing that the nation’s first art was a social tool—a certificate of status or a record of historical memory. The central question is how these artists navigated the vacuum of a "pictorially uncultured" time to create a visual legacy. The book argues that by moving from literal, labored documentation toward the vital, character-driven portraiture of masters like Stuart, American artists finally evolved from simple craftsmen into creators of a lasting national mythology.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the intersection of history and aesthetics will find this volume an engaging, if brief, portal into the early American mind. It captures the transition of a young country discovering its own image, and there is a distinct pleasure in reading the contemporary, sometimes blunt assessments of painters whose works we now view as untouchable icons. The prose is warm and instructive, reflecting the "mentor" spirit of the association that published it.

However, a modern reader must be prepared for the book's period-specific attitudes; its hierarchy of "good" art is firmly rooted in the academic standards of the early twentieth century, and it occasionally dismisses work that current art history might view with more nuance. The descriptions of artists—from the "shabby" Stuart to the "radiant" Allston—provide a humanizing look at lives often rendered overly serious in textbooks. What stays with the reader is the sense of how difficult it was for these men to find their way in a society that initially valued their work only as a substitute for a photograph. It is a humble, informative piece that rewards those who want to understand not just the what of American painting, but the why of its inception.