The Watercolors of Charles Demuth
Story by Madeleine Ward-Schultz
The month of June commemorates the 1969 Stonewall Riots in New York City when the police raided the Stonewall Inn, a club for LGBTQ+ individuals that provided a safe space within a collective, embracing community. Our Queer / Modern gallery in the Ross Building explores the experiences and visionary imaginations of early 20th century Queer artists. They created like-minded environments, whether literally or figuratively, through their art during a period when Queer people and their underground organizations started fighting gender persecution and discrimination. Inspired by the collective American experience and the personal psyche, painter Charles Demuth encapsulates both into his work, creating a snapshot of a post-war microcosm of human understanding.
Charles Demuth (1883–1935) began painting at a young age. Between his family’s amateur artmaking and comfortable economic status, Demuth was able to pursue painting with his family’s support. He may have been particularly encouraged by his mother after certain events — more likely tuberculosis of the hip, less likely a fall during playtime with his father, though the cause remains a mystery — led to a hip injury at four years old. Demuth would live with chronic health issues for the rest of his life, namely a limp necessitating usage of a cane and, later in life, a severe case of diabetes in which complications would lead to his death. Many historians have argued that because of his bed-ridden childhood and lack of social-development during his formative years, Demuth lurked in the shadows of society as an outcast. His queer identity, which historians only started analyzing in the 1980’s, seemed to leap out of his artwork and further prove his social alienation.
Although he may have had an unorthodox childhood, Demuth’s depictions of vibrant nightlife and entertainment spaces go beyond a binary.
While attending the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts in 1905, Demuth studied watercolor painting under established painters Thomas Anshutz, Henry McCarter, and William Merritt Chase. He even exhibited in the Academy’s annual watercolor show. Though, like most art students, Demuth learned through imitating popular artists of the time and experimenting with styles. He traveled to Europe several times, discovering upcoming artists and, on one trip, took classes at French art schools (the Académie modern, Académie Julian, and Académie Colarossi). Once his own practice took off, he met his creative contemporaries in Paris, New York, and even Bermuda. It was on some of these trips where inspiration came from exciting modern movements like Cubism and Fauvism and their major contributors Paul Cézanne, Henri Matisse, and Pablo Picasso.
After painting inside the lines of established trends for years, Demuth zeroed in on his own artistic style during the mid-1910’s, composing at least a quarter of his total oeuvre between 1915 and 1917.
Demuth demonstrates his adapted stylistic practice in The Drinkers (1915). The figures’ loosely-penciled lines wander, simple and seemingly undefined. In the front two men’s black suits, Demuth adds shading and texture by layering increasingly opaque blacks and allowing the paint to run freely (though he’s mindful of staying within his pre-sketched outlines and, in some cases, leaves white space in between). The combination of imperfect drawings and dynamic treatment of the clothes brings the characters to life. Luminous, golden light and black and brown shadow frame the drinkers, directing the eye to the picture’s subjects. Furthermore, the exposed paper around the edges creates a dimensionality to the space that pops the drinkers out of the flat page.
The Nut, Pre-Volstead Days (1916) exhibits Demuth’s comprehension of the human experience during trying times. While his watercolor application is light and sparse, almost to the extent that the work might feel unfinished, he reinforces his design with detail. In The Nut, Demuth makes three distinct faces visible. The bags under the eyes and dropping eyebrows suggest tired, sluggish men at the end of a long work shift. While Demuth shows the three in The Drinkers huddled together during a conversation lull, he catches The Nut open-mouthed, talking his bartender’s ear off. Perhaps this customer feels reanimated with the help of liquor as his server droops further, dulled by the conversation.
But the patron’s monologue couldn’t be that much of a bore, since the second bartender leans in to hear the gossip. It is possible that he looks on to something behind the black-suited man, though the juicy story has another attentive listener: the artist. Because of the bar’s architectural rendering, the angled counter extends into the viewer’s space. It’s easy to imagine Demuth sketching at the end of the bar and intentionally creating a similar experience for the viewer. The artist continues to play with individual behavior within communal spaces; whether being part of “the pack” (as in The Drinkers) or roaming as a lone wolf (more like The Nut), Demuth and his characters could be wondering, are they looking at me? Would I look cool if I crossed my arms? Did he really just say that? As we peer in for a closer look and try to piece together the painting’s narrative, we mirror the subjects’ actions — maybe even their thoughts, too. What’s more, the abstract style and watercolor blending add to the realistic feel — not only do we see drunk and slouching figures, but the marbling colors might suggest a certain buzz on the artist’s part (or even the viewer).
Demuth was a habitual patron of social spaces like bars, theaters, and other entertainment houses. New York clubs were also important creative outlets for artists, writers, and performers, especially during the post-war, Prohibition era. Demuth playfully jokes through his title “Pre-Volstead Days,” which alludes to U.S. House of Representative Andrew Volstead, the congressman who helped draft and pass the 1920 bill — often referred to as the “Volstead Act” — that made the sale and consumption of alcohol illegal. By many accounts, Demuth had a wry sense of humor and enjoyed booze. More recent research has also shown that these clubs (including those in Demuth’s native Lancaster, PA and frequently visited Provincetown, MA and Greenwich Village, New York) provided social sanctuaries for Queer individuals. Though previous accounts have painted him as more of a secluded individual, the people and places Demuth surrounded himself with suggest that he found the communities he identified with and was embraced by.
In addition to bars, Demuth loved performing arts. He enjoyed Harlem jazz and eagerly invited his arts friends to join him at clubs — Marcel Duchamp being one of them. Theater, and Vaudeville in particular, was another favorite past time. Vaudeville was an incredibly popular, newly-Americanized entertainment option during the early 20th century that crossed racial, class, and gender boundaries. The female impersonation acts and presentations of masculine women and feminine men on stage provided public representation for many Queer folks. Demuth seemed to identify with the art form and its audience, focusing a number of his figurative watercolor paintings on Vaudeville performers.
Some scholars see Demuth’s zoomed-in perspective on his subjects as demonstrating a sympathetic attitude toward the performers, from one artisan to another. Additionally, there is, perhaps, an affinity between fellow artists Edgar Degas and Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec who created inter-personal, authentic, and empathetic representations of entertainers that emphasize the demanding, physical strain (which is often visceral) of the subject’s art form. This could be the case with The Circus’ (1917) composition where Demuth centers the two acrobats within the frame and exaggerates their elongated limbs, athletic physique, and balancing technique. In that case, Demuth sits as an outside viewer separated from the agile acrobats in the ring. But perhaps Demuth imagined being part of the marvelous world where neither social norms nor gravity confined us, and we’re flying along with him.
Demuth’s artistic influence spanned across space and time. During his lifetime, he gained global recognition, and his artwork was regularly promoted by art dealer Alfred Stieglitz and sold at modern art “influencer” Charles Daniel’s gallery. It was at Daniel’s gallery that collector Ferdinand Howald became a frequent patron and network contact of the gallery’s artists, Demuth included. Throughout the financial strains of the Depression and Post-war era, Howald’s sponsorship gave these artists a constant source of income. Many of the CMA’s works by Demuth come from Howald’s support of the artist and gallery.
Demuth was also part of an extensive art circle with contemporaries in CMA’s collection like Georgia O’Keeffe, Arthur Dove, and John Marin. Across from Demuth’s wall in the Queer / Modern gallery are works by Marsden Hartley, Demuth’s Bermuda travel-buddy, giving a nod to their close friendship. As we reflect on Demuth’s life through his art, we recognize his versatility in both style and medium. But going beyond the technical compositions, Demuth’s figurative subjects and personal relationships reveal a thrumming community of fellow visionaries whose dedication to creativity and collective support continues to inspire us today.
