Three Chapters

Sunday Evening

Table of Contents

Introduction
Chapter 1  Two Paintings
Chapter 2  A Book
Chapter 3  A Quilt

Introduction:  Have you ever noticed how some things come to you gradually?  A realization or an understanding may take days, months, or even years to make itself apparent.  Such a thing has happened to me, and while writing helps me learn, this is an understanding that I'd like to share with you.  It will take a bit of background because, as you probably guessed, it involves some paintings (not mine), a book I just finished reading, and a quilt.  At this moment I don't know how many days this story will take to tell so I've already decided on at least three days - hence the chapters.

Chapter 1  Two Paintings

My story begins at a Seder David and I attended this spring.  Two years ago David did a lot of work for  the Jewish Community Center by helping their board write a mission statement and decide on a direction they wished to take.  There's more to what he did than that, but basically it took a tremendous amount of time and energy.  One of the board members invited us to his home for a Seder, possibly as a thank you, and we attended.  The hosts were very gracious, the meal was delicious, and we learned a lot.  End of story, or so I thought.

However, this year, the same board member and another man who works at the JCC asked David to do a similar job at the Daughters of Sarah Nursing Home where both of them serve on that board.  David agreed and has been hard at work helping that organization.  Again, the board member invited us to his home for this year's Seder, and again we accepted. 

As it happened, that evening at dinner, I was seated next to the host in a chair that faced the wall (the previous time I had been on the other side of the table).  On that wall hung two paintings only one of which I could see reasonably well.  As the dinner progressed when it was possible for my attention to leave the company and the Seder itself, I kept looking up at that painting wishing I could see it more clearly.  It reminded me of the Dutch still life paintings I admired so much as a teenager and young adult.  The meticulous details, the realism, the composition, use of colors, the glass!  You understand.  At one time I wanted very much to be able to paint like those Dutch painters.  And there I was, seated where I could see, but not well given the candlelight, two paintings that might possibly be Dutch still lifes.

Finally, there was a time when I could politely ask my host to tell me about those paintings.  "Oh, those?"  He turned to me with a smile.  "It's really a long story involving my family.  Are you sure you want know?"

"Yes, I do," I responded.  "Now that I know they have something to do with your family, I want to know even more. A family's connections to objects are important to me."  Or words to that affect.

Eventually, he realized that I might be interested and not just polite so he told me the story.  As well as I can remember it, here is the story of two paintings.  But first, the painting that caught my eye:

Still Life with Fruit and Wine Glass by Severin Roesen

First my host told me what I was looking at were copies of the actual paintings which had once belonged to his grandmother.  Or, he said, they belonged to a several times great-grandfather who was a tailor in or near Philadelphia in the mid 1800's. 

Okay, how does a tailor manage to acquire two paintings of such obvious worth?

The story as I was told it, is that Severin Roesen, lived in Philadelphia (my host suspected that he had gone there to study with one of the Peales) but wanted to return to New York City so he could exhibit at the Academy there.  For that he needed a suit so he could make a good appearance in the city.  He went to a tailor even though he did not have the money to pay for a new suit (and probably not even for an old one).  Following an age-old custom, the artist bartered for the suit - two paintings for a suit of clothes.   The tailor was no fool and accepted the bargain.  Mr. Roesen got the clothes he needed, and the tailor received two obvious excellent paintings.

Years pass, the paintings were not so much forgotten as merely taken for granted.  They became part of the furniture that one saw in a room every time one entered it.  One doesn't ask questions about a rug that one walks on every day, and one ceases to think consciously about it.  In the same way the paintings were handed down through the daughters as part of household goods.  Fortunately, the bare bones of the story were also handed on. 

Still Life with Strawberries in a Compote by Severin Roesen

The two paintings and the story of how they came to be owned were re-discovered when my host's grandmother died and his father had to take care of the estate. I believe his father was the only one who had an interest in the paintings and he started to investigate who that artist was. Then when his father died, my host and his siblings had to decide what to do with the paintings

They were able to have the paintings authenticated much to the general excitement of everyone in the art world interested in American paintings of this particular time period.  Severin Roesen and his history is rather well known but there was no record of these two paintings.  They were being seen and discovered by the art establishment for the first time.

Eventually, the family gave them to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in honor of their father and with the understanding that my host would be given decent reproductions.  

Here are the details and the provenance which I copied from the Met's website when I searched out the paintings:

Severin Roesen (active United States, 1848–72)

Date: 1865–70

Medium: Oil on board with gold leaf frame

Dimensions: Oval: 16 x 20 in. (40.6 x 50.8 cm)

Classification: Paintings

Credit Line: Gift of Carl S. Salmon, Jr., 2004

Accession Number: 2004.541.2

This artwork is currently on display in Gallery 774

       Provenance:  Moses (Ulman) Allman, Williamsport, Pennsylvania (in trade with the artist for a suit of clothing); to his daughter, Rosetta (Ulman) Allman Kaufman; to her grandson, Carl Salmon, Jr. (the donor)