Table Of ContentSCENIC
IMPRESSIONs
southern interpretations the johnson collection
SCENIC
IMPRESSIONs
southern interpretations the johnson collection
estill curtis pennington & martha r. severens
the johnson collection in association with
the university of south carolina press
© The Johnson Collection, LLC, 2015
The Johnson Collection
PO Box 3524, Spartanburg, South Carolina 29304-3524
864.585.2000 thejohnsoncollection.org
David Henderson, Director
Sarah Tignor, Collection Manager & Registrar
Lynne Blackman, Public Relations & Publications Coordinator
Aimee Wise, Collection Assistant
Holly Watters, Collection Assistant
All rights reserved. Unless otherwise noted, all images are property of the Johnson Collection, LLC.
Copublished in partnership with the University of South Carolina Press, Columbia, South Carolina 29208.
800.768.2500 www.sc.edu/uscpress
Editor: Lynne Blackman
Photography: Carroll Foster, Hot Eye Photography, Spartanburg, South Carolina; Tim Barnwell Photography, Asheville,
North Carolina; Rick Phodes Photography and Imaging, LLC, Charleston, South Carolina
Design: Gee Creative, Charleston, South Carolina
Production: Printed in Canada by Friesens
ISBN 978-1-61117-675-9
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data can be found at http://catalog.loc.gov/
This volume accompanies the exhibition of the same title. Exhibition venues include:
Dixon Gallery and Gardens, Memphis, Tennessee
Morris Museum of Art, Augusta, Georgia
Frontispiece: Alice Ravenel Huger Smith (1876–1958), Swamp Scene, watercolor on paper, 21¾ x 115/8 inches (detail).
Cover: Hattie Saussy (1890–1978), Path with Mossy Trees, oil on canvas mounted on masonite, 18 x 26 inches (detail).
ISBN 978-1-61117-717-6 (ebook)
7 preface
david henderson
8 foreword
kevin sharp
11 the larger world of scenic impressions
estill curtis pennington
27 some things that are charming
martha r. severens
45 works of art
133 artist biographies
185 annotations
210 index
214 acknowledgments
215 the johnson collection
in this day of the ever-present cell phone camera, it might be
difficult to imagine the efforts that artists once made to record a memorable view for posterity. Preparation
required far more than the overnight charging of a battery or the availability of GPS monitoring. Travel was
arduous and conveniences were limited, as was a reliable clientele or lucrative commercial infrastructure,
especially for painters working in the South. No, the artists presented in this study invested considerable
intention to the discovery and delineation of places of particular beauty. Whether the setting was extraordinary
or everyday, artists hoping to capture the moment went to great lengths to provide their patrons with “scenic
impressions” that transcribed venue, color, and mood. The experience was a physical and tactile one, and the
connection between artist and locale deeply felt. The best paintings reflect such synergy and reward the effort.
Intention, location, connection, and synergy have been driving forces in the establishment of the Johnson
Collection as well. In just over thirteen years, what began as aesthetic experiment has evolved into
cultural statement. To amass a collection (of any sort, really) according to well-defined parameters is fairly
straightforward; it can be, at its most fundamental level, purely transactional. What sets meaningful and
significant collections apart is effort: the willingness to dig deeper, to discern carefully, and to never settle. A
command of the history in question is important, but personal resonance with that history is indispensable,
even for a transplanted Canadian like me. In guiding the collection’s acquisitions, my understanding of
market conditions has been imperative, but so has the awareness that true value is often determined by far
less tangible measurements than price-per-square-inch calculations and sales records. The Johnson family’s
vision, and fidelity to that vision, is more critical to the collection’s vitality than their endowment. That they
have allowed me to pursue my passion for Southern art in the collection’s name has been a privilege. It has
given me a proverbial second act rich with revelation and joy.
As the collection evolves, developing nuance and depth, it remains true to its original mission to advance the
narrative of Southern art within the national cultural context. Scholarship on the subject is paramount, as
evidenced by this, our third volume in as many years. We will continue to interpret the South and champion
the cause with an eye toward making an ever clearer impression on the field of American art.
david henderson
director, the johnson collection
spartanburg, south carolina
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Opposite: Lawrence Mazzanovich (1871–1959), Smoky Mountains, oil on canvas, 253/8 x 251/4 inches (detail).
i remember a time when we almost never discussed american
Impressionist painting. The French inventors of the movement, style, and technique (or whatever it was)
were so much riper in their way; their pictures just had more air in their lungs, as I heard one colleague
describe the difference years ago, and I agreed. At the time, we were not entirely sure what American
Impressionism was—or even if such a thing truthfully existed. When we finally did start talking about
American painters of the Impressionist era—neatly avoiding the term American Impressionism, which we
distrusted—they were typically the grand expatriates. We sought American artists who had opened studios
or planted easels alongside their counterparts in England, Holland, or (of course) France, and had the good
sense to remain there. We discussed this mere handful of painters for the longest time, and in nothing less
than excruciating detail. Actually, we are still discussing them. It was only later—much later, in fact—that we
became interested in the (so-called) American Impressionists, who lived their lives and managed their careers
within the boundaries of the United States. We preferred them to have made at least one extended trip to
Paris, or to Giverny, or both. And we were only willing to seriously consider artists who after returning from
their French sojourns established themselves in New York studios or with notable Manhattan galleries, clubs,
or institutions. Granted, we eventually came around to Philadelphia, Boston, and much of New England as
well, but there we had to draw the line.
From the massive and magisterial book, American Impressionism (1984) by William H. Gerdts, we came to
understand that there had been artists in every corner of the United States—not just the Northeast—whose
paintings undeniably resembled Impressionism. By the time his Art Across America was published six years
later, the number of painters he identified further afield had grown considerably (especially in Volume 2,
which catalogues Southern and Midwestern artists). But how were we to account for these artists in the
context of Impressionism? Some of them had never left the towns in which they were born, let alone traveled
to Giverny. It was puzzling, and easier to dismiss their efforts as mimicry than to contend with it as expression.
So, rather than contend, we ignored it.
It turns out that we were spectacularly and even proudly parochial in our likes and dislikes about Impressionism.
It turns out that by focusing so intently on our preference for riper artists with lungs full of air, we were
missing one of Impressionism’s more intriguing qualities—its remarkable durability as an international style
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8 and especially its longevity in the United States. Decades after most French painters were exploring other
movements, styles, and techniques, it turns out that American artists were continuing to extract expressive
value from the Impressionist aesthetic. Even if they later abandoned Impressionism for something altogether
different, American painters—fully two generations of them, at least—saw it as a well lit pathway toward the
vanguard. And it happened border-to-border, coast-to-coast.
By the time we finally grasped that there was something compelling to say about American Impressionism—
as practiced in places other than Paris, Giverny, New York, etc.—there were already very good scholars and
curators, collectors, and (admittedly) art dealers discussing the subject in the context of those other places.
Their animated (sometimes partisan) conversations were finding attentive listeners and particularly in and
around such relevant communities as Doylestown, Pennsylvania; Charleston, South Carolina; Nashville,
Indiana; Taos, New Mexico; Oakland and Laguna Beach, California; and a dozen other towns and cities,
maybe more. The conversations continue to this day, and have only become more interesting over time.
All those years ago, long before we started talking about American Impressionism, the last place on earth
we would have looked for signs of its existence was in the South. You see, we (many of us) labored under the
false assumption that there was no history of painting, no valid or notable culture of art making, selling, or
collecting in the South. We were perfectly earnest and sincere in this belief, and meant no disrespect by it.
You could and should go southward for good antique furniture, for textiles, or for ceramics, we insisted, but
certainly not for paintings.
When we (some of us) finally did open our eyes, we were amazed to find painters, paintings, and cultures
of appreciation all across the South—in Charleston, Savannah, Atlanta, Charlotte, Birmingham, Memphis,
Jackson, and New Orleans to be sure, but also in intriguing spots like Holly Springs, Mississippi; Blowing
Rock, North Carolina; Augusta, Georgia; and Spartanburg, South Carolina, to name but a few. Moreover, the
paintings that emerged from these politely reticent and determinedly Southern places were quite good, and
they often spoke to the region in which they were made in eloquent dialects of Impressionism.
Scenic Impressions, yet another absorbing exhibition and catalogue organized by the Johnson Collection in
Spartanburg, presents the indelible Southern landscape painted by native sons and daughters who worked in
one variant or another of the Impressionist idiom. Almost slyly, the show also features works by painters more
typically associated with Northern climes, who at least for one interval dipped their brushes into Southern
sceneries and sensibilities. As an ensemble, the works in Scenic Impressions describe a region as varied and
irrepressible as the Impressionist aesthetic itself. It is hard to believe we once doubted these artists and
paintings existed. We do not anymore.
kevin sharp
linda w. and s. herbert rhea director
dixon gallery and gardens, memphis, tennessee
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