Showing posts with label 1913. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1913. Show all posts

Friday, February 15, 2019

Modern Art Throws a Bomb at American Culture—The Armory Show

The Armory Show by James Huntsberer.

The International Exhibition of Modern Art, better known to history as the Armory Show opened on February 15, 1913 at the 69th Regiment Armory (The famous Fighting 69th of Civil War and World War I fame) in New York City.  The exhibition, sponsored by the Association of American Painters and Sculptors, was the first introduction of modern art to the American public.

Armory Show poster.

It featured many artists who were well established in Europe, particularly France including all of the leading Impressionists, Pointillists and Expressionists including Paul Cézanne, Edgar Degas, Édouard Manet, Claude Monet, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Auguste Rodin, Georges Seurat, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, Paul Gaugan, and Vincent van Gogh.  Also featured were Americans who had studied and worked in France like James McNeil Whistler and Mary Cassatt.  Today these artists are so familiar to us that they do not seem daring.  But the American public, even the sophisticated, art consuming classes of the New York elite, steeped in traditional representationalism had never seen anything like it. 

Americans had never seen anything like Vincent  Van Gogh's Olive Trees, Pale Blue Sky and that was just the tip of the shock iceberg.

The public was even less prepared for the younger artists.  Henri Matisse and Edvard Munch were taking Expressionism to even bolder extremes.  But it was the Cubists who both outraged and captured the public’s attention.  They included Marcel Duchamp and Pablo Picasso.  Duchamp’s Nude Descending a Stair Case was the most talked about—and derided picture—in the exhibition.  It was described as an “explosion in a shingle factory.”  The painting and other Cubist work was denounced by the President of the United States Theodore Roosevelt himself who thundered (did he ever talk any other way?) “This is not art.”  

Marcel Duchamp's Nude Descending a Stair Case became the most notorious painting exhibited in the Armory Show.

Critics fretted if it was bad for the morals of the community and that it might induce “societal psychosis.”  Predictably, there were calls to close down the exhibition, even to arrest the organizers.  Authorities, however, demurred and let the exhibit run its scheduled course through the Ides of March.  

The curious of all classes flocked to the show to see what all of the fuss was about. They found 1300 works by 300 artists arranged in 13 galleries at the sprawling armory.  Top American artists from New York, Boston, and Chicago were included.   The exposure of the American artists to the avant-garde freed them to undertake their own experiments in modernism.

The Chicago newspaper that published  Harriet Monroe’s review of the Armory Show before it moved to the Art Institute  used the kind of shock and derision that was standard in much of the press but the forward thinking poet was much friendlier: “It is enthusiastic, exuberant; it offers the glad hand to any one, young or old, who has something special and personal to say in modern art. And its welcome is generous; each man has space enough for all his moods…. We cannot always tell what they mean, but at least [the cubists] are having a good time.”

When the show closed, the Metropolitan  Museum of Art, considered the ultimate judge of important art in the US, signaled its at least partial approval of the new developments when if purchased one picture from the show—View of the Domaine Saint-Joseph by Cézanne. 

Cézanne's View of the Domaine Saint-Joseph.

The exhibition went on to show at the Art Institute of Chicago and to Copley Hall in Boston, where work by American artists was removed due to a lack of space.

The Armory Show was just one of the cultural tsunamis shaking up provincial and complacent American culture.  In a few short decades a wave of new inventions from the light bulb and telephone to automobiles, moving pictures, and airplanes had changed the way people lived at what seemed a galloping pace.  Waves of immigration were transforming American cities into stews of swarthy aliens with foreign religions and politics.  Socialism and class warfare were on the rise.  Notions from evolution to psycho-analysis were altering world views.  The revolution in the visual arts was paralleled in rag time and jazz music, new forms of theater, the rise of the novel as the primary literary expression, and movies bringing the world to both Main Street and Broadway

Wassily Kandinsky’s Black Stroke I  even anticipated the abstract expressionism of the post-World War II era.
The adoption of the work shown at the Armory that year by the educated classes was then and is still resented by a deep strain of populist anti-intellectualism. In fact recent cultural events show that the backlash is actually more than a hundred years later as the most reactionary elements of society gain traction by rejecting all traces of modernism.

Saturday, February 3, 2018

Bringing Class War to Broadway—The Paterson Pageant

On February 3, 1913 workers were one week into of one of the most storied battles of the ruthless pre-World War I class war.
Just a year after cotton and woolen mill workers in Lawrence, Massachusetts launched their epic Bread and Roses struggle over assigning workers to tend more machines, employees in the specialized silk industry in Paterson, New Jersey found themselves faced with a similar problem.  Local employers announced the imposition of the four-loom system in January 1913.
Previously the mostly women workers tended two looms with children helping by winding bobbins, sweeping scrap, and pushing heavy carts of finished materials.  Men, mostly immigrants filled more skilled jobs maintaining and setting up the delicate machinery.  The new system not only put people out of work, but those who kept their jobs got no additional compensation for essentially double the work.  And hours were lengthened to make up for lost time as machines were fouled and shut down as exhausted workers could not keep up.  Those additional hours came at no raise to daily pay.

A woman attends a silk loom in Paterson.  A doubling of of the work load from two to four looms with no increase in pay triggered the 1913 strike
As in Lawrence, there were skeleton organizations of AFL craftsmen and a small Industrial Workers of the World (IWW) branch engaged mostly in education and general agitation but workers had no effective recognition.  Weavers at the Doherty Silk Mill got together and elected a four-man grievance committee to lay out the hardships to the bosses.  When they presented themselves at the mill office, committee members were peremptorily fired.  The next day, January 27, 800 workers at the mill went out on strike.
By the end of the week the strike had spread to 300 mills large and small in Paterson and its immediate vicinity.  Recognizing the need for experienced leadership, the strikers call on the IWW.
Many of the same figures who energized the Lawrence Strike came to do the same in Paterson including IWW General Secretary-Treasurer William D. “Big Bill” Haywood, the Italian IWW leader and anarchist Carlo Tresca, the fiery young speaker Elizabeth Gurley Flynn.  They joined the seasoned German IWW organizer Adolf Lessing who was already on the ground.

IWW organizers and leaders of the Paterson Silk Strike. Front row, from left: Hubert Harrison, later a key figure in the Harlem Renaissance; orator Elizabeth Gurley Flynn; and IWW General Secretary-Treasurer William D. “Big Bill” Haywood. Back row: unknown, Patrick L. Quinlan, unknown, and unknown.  As in the earlier Lawrence textile strike workers were organized cross ethnic, language, religious, and even racial divisions.
The Wobbly leadership empowered the strike committee and helped it organize mass pickets at the mill gates as well as provide logistical support for the strikers.  Flynn organized special meetings of women, both strikers and the wives of strikers.  As in Lawrence, the strikers were met with mass attacks by police and assaults, even gunfire, from armed thugs employed as guards by the larger mills.  Over the course of the strike three workers would be killed by the gun thugs, and two more later died of their injuries.
The IWW leaders recognized that they had to make the strike broader.  Another 1000 mills and dye houses in the area were still working.  And new silk centers in Pennsylvania with more modern equipment, many owned by the same companies that controlled the Paterson mills, could continue to meet commercial needs.  They called a general strike of the industry for the end of February.  It was successful in the Patterson area where virtually all shops downed tools and joined the strike.  Eventually more than 20,000 were out.

Some of the Paterson silk mills from a hand-tinted contemporary picture postcard.
Authorities responded with mass arrests, Heywood, Tresca, and Flynn were all nabbed as were hundreds of rank and file members.  Over the course of the strike over 3,000 were arrested and most sentenced to ten-day jail terms.  The IWW’s General Defense Committee went into overdrive trying to raise money for lawyers and to support the families of jailed strikers.
Jack Reed
The spreading strike naturally attracted the attention of the press.  While mainstream newspapers and magazines were almost universal in providing scare headlines and condemning the strikers, left wing journalists came to tell the other side, including Jack Reed, the renegade socialite and future patron of the avant guarde Mabel Dodge, and a young Walter Lippmann.  Reed was swept up in the street arrests and sentenced to jail.  He wrote columns on the inhumane conditions in the hellishly crowded jails which were smuggled out and printed in leading New York newspapers.  Exasperated authorities released him early.
Returning to New York Reed and Dodge, who were having an affair, hatched a plan to bring the stirring story of the Patterson Strike to the stage to raise popular support for the struggle and money for the strike fund.  They did not think small.  They rented Madison Square Garden.  

Dodge provided seed money and prevailed on her circle of artistic friends to help.  Reed, one of the founding members of the Provincetown Players, put together the program and wrote most of the script.  His close friend Eugene O'Neill, who had joined the IWW Marine Transport Workers Union during his days as sailor on tramp steamers, is thought to have written some of the dialogue.
An enormous electric light bulb sign was erected over the Garden featuring the shirtless figure of a worker, one arm raised, rising above a skyline of smoking mills.  The same figure, drawn by IWW poet, illustrator and editor Ralph Chaplain also adorned the program book.  For many years it would be used as the cover for the union’s famous Little Red Songbook.
Reed's lover and collaborator on the Paterson Pageant, socialite and proprietor of a famed avant guarde Manhattan salon Mable Dodge.
More than a thousand strikers—men, women, and children, came to the city to bring the strike stunningly to life on stage on June 7.  The city had never seen anything like it.  The Paterson Pageant ran four days.  It succeeded in getting the strike talked about.  Dodge would later recall,
For a few electric moments there was a terrible unity between all of these people. They were one: the workers who had come to show their comrades what was happening across the river and the workers who had come to see it. I have never felt such a pulsing vibration in any gathering before or since.
Unfortunately, the Pageant was not a financial success.  In fact it was a disaster.  There were not enough limousine liberals to fill the expensive one and two-dollar seats in the enormous building.  Instead the seats were filled at the last minute by working people who paid a dime or were let in free.  The program lost money for the Strike Fund.
Reed and Dodge did not stick around to try and clean up the mess.  The day after the show closed, they boarded an ocean liner for a trip to Europe.
The IWW had exhausted virtually its entire treasury on the strike.  Socialist Party locals had also raised money, but by midsummer they were tapped out as well.  Without the support of a strike fund to keep food on the table, workers began to drift back to work.  The bulk of them returned in July.  The IWW Textile Workers Industrial Union, which had never been able to spread the strike into an industry-wide action that it knew was key to winning, officially called an end to the strike and sent the last stragglers back to work in September.

IWW women silk weavers from Paterson march through the streets of Manhattan to Madison Square Garden for the Pageant.
None of the strikers’ economic demands were met.  Moreover, the larger companies used the prolonged strike to force smaller, “less efficient” mills into bankruptcy.  There were fewer jobs to go back to.  On top of that, the country was sliding into another one of its periodic financial panics.
There were plenty of recriminations to go around.  The AFL accused the IWW of “using” the Patterson workers to advance their revolutionary cause.  Elizabeth Gurley Flynn defended the strike in her memoirs:
What is a labor victory? I maintain that it is a twofold thing. Workers must gain economic advantage, but they must also gain revolutionary spirit, in order to achieve a complete victory. For workers to gain a few cents more a day, a few minutes less a day, and go back to work with the same psychology, the same attitude toward society is to achieve a temporary gain and not a lasting victory. For workers to go back with a class-conscious spirit, with an organized and determined attitude toward society means that even if they have made no economic gain they have the possibility of gaining in the future.
The strike was a virtual last hurrah for the Textile Workers IU.  There were a few other scattered actions during the balance of 1913 then the financial panic made calling strikes an exceptionally risky business.  By 1916 the IWW General Administration suspended the charter of the Industrial Union for lack of membership.  Active local branches continued with a direct affiliation to the GA.  There would be precious little further activity in what had been a key IWW industry.
Instead the union turned its attention more and more to the extractive industries of the West—the wheat and grain harvests, California agriculture, Pacific Northwest fruit, copper and other hard rock mining, coal mining, and the lumber industry in addition to large scale railroad and other construction projects.  Except for the mining industries, most of the workers in these industries were single transient men moving from job to job, even from industry to industry.  These were tough, militant men, but the absence of home guard workers with families and large numbers of women dramatically changed the legendary fighting union.