Religious Liberty (1876) and the Nineteenth‐Century Jewish American Experience 1 Samantha Baskind

A Companion to Nineteenth‐Century Art WILEY BLACKWELL COMPANIONS TO ART HISTORY

These invigorating reference volumes chart the influence of key ideas, discourses, and theories on art, and the way that it is taught, thought of, and talked about throughout the English‐speaking world. Each volume brings together a team of respected international scholars to debate the state of research within traditional subfields of art history as well as in more innovative, thematic configurations. Representing the best of the scholarship governing the field and pointing toward future trends and across disciplines, the Blackwell Companions to Art History series provides a magisterial, state‐of‐the‐art synthesis of art history.

1 A Companion to Contemporary Art since 1945, edited by Amelia Jones 2 A Companion to Medieval Art, edited by Conrad Rudolph 3 A Companion to Asian Art and Architecture, edited by Rebecca M. Brown and Deborah S. Hutton 4 A Companion to Renaissance and Baroque Art, edited by Babette Bohn and James M. Saslow 5 A Companion to British Art: 1600 to the Present, edited by Dana Arnold and David Peters Corbett 6 A Companion to Modern African Art, edited by Gitti Salami and Monica Blackmun Visonà 7 A Companion to Chinese Art, edited by Martin J. Powers and Katherine R. Tsiang 8 A Companion to American Art, edited by John Davis, Jennifer A. Greenhill, and Jason D. LaFountain 9 A Companion to Digital Art, edited by Christiane Paul 10 A Companion to Dada and Surrealism, edited by David Hopkins 11 A Companion to Public Art, edited by Cher Krause Knight and Harriet F. Senie 12 A Companion to Islamic Art and Architecture, Volume 1 and 2, edited by Finbarr Flood and Gulru Necipoglu 13 A Companion to Modern Art, edited by Pamela Meecham 14 A Companion to Nineteenth‐Century Art, edited by Michelle Facos

Forthcoming 1 A Companion to Contemporary Design since 1945, edited by Anne Massey 2 A Companion to Illustration, edited by Alan Male 3 A Companion to Modern and Contemporary Latin American and Latino Art, edited by Alejandro Anreus, Robin Greeley, and Megan Sullivan 4 A Companion to Australian Art, edited by Christopher Allen A Companion to Nineteenth‐Century Art

Edited by Michelle Facos This edition first published 2019 © 2019 John Wiley & Sons, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, except as permitted by law. Advice on how to obtain permission to reuse material from this title is available at http://www.wiley.com/go/permissions. The right of Michelle Facos to be identified as the author of the editorial material in this work has been asserted in accordance with law. Registered Office(s) John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 111 River Street, Hoboken, NJ 07030, USA Editorial Office The Atrium, Southern Gate, Chichester, West Sussex, PO19 8SQ, UK For details of our global editorial offices, customer services, and more information about Wiley products visit us at www.wiley.com. Wiley also publishes its books in a variety of electronic formats and by print‐on‐demand. Some content that appears in standard print versions of this book may not be available in other formats. Limit of Liability/Disclaimer of Warranty While the publisher and authors have used their best efforts in preparing this work, they make no representations or warranties with respect to the accuracy or completeness of the contents of this work and specifically disclaim all warranties, including without limitation any implied warranties of merchantability or fitness for a particular purpose. No warranty may be created or extended by sales representatives, written sales materials or promotional statements for this work. The fact that an organization, website, or product is referred to in this work as a citation and/or potential source of further information does not mean that the publisher and authors endorse the information or services the organization, website, or product may provide or recommendations it may make. This work is sold with the understanding that the publisher is not engaged in rendering professional services. The advice and strategies contained herein may not be suitable for your situation. You should consult with a specialist where appropriate. Further, readers should be aware that websites listed in this work may have changed or disappeared between when this work was written and when it is read. Neither the publisher nor authors shall be liable for any loss of profit or any other commercial damages, including but not limited to special, incidental, consequential, or other damages. Library of Congress Cataloging‐in‐Publication Data Names: Facos, Michelle, editor. Title: A companion to nineteenth-century art / edited by Michelle Facos. Description: Hoboken : Wiley-Blackwell, 2019. | Series: Wiley Blackwell companions to art history | Includes bibliographical references and index. | Identifiers: LCCN 2018023702 (print) | LCCN 2018026685 (ebook) | ISBN 9781118856338 (Adobe PDF) | ISBN 9781118856352 (ePub) | ISBN 9781118856369 (hardcover) Subjects: LCSH: Art, Modern–19th century. | Art and society–History–19th century. Classification: LCC N6450 (ebook) | LCC N6450 .C64 2018 (print) | DDC 709.03/4–dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018023702 Cover image: © Wikimedia Commons Cover design: Wiley Set in 10/12pt Galliard by SPi Global, Pondicherry, India

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 Contents

List of Figures ix About the Editor xiii Notes on Contributors xv Series Editor’s Preface xxi Acknowledgments xxiii Introduction xxv Michelle Facos

1 Moses Jacob Ezekiel’s Religious Liberty (1876) and the Nineteenth‐Century Jewish American Experience 1 Samantha Baskind

2 The Lure of “Magick Land”: British Artists and Italy in the Eighteenth Century 17 Brendan Cassidy

3 Mining the Dutch Golden Age: The Avant‐Garde Enterprise 35 Johanna Ruth Epstein

4 “The Revenge of Art on Life”: Beauty, Modernity, and Edward Burne‐Jones’s King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid 51 Andrea Wolk Rager

5 Show and Tell: Exhibition Practice in the Nineteenth Century 69 Patricia Mainardi

6 Networked: The Art Market in the Nineteenth Century 83 Pamela Fletcher and Anne Helmreich vi Contents

7 German Art Academies and their Impact on Artistic Style 103 Sabine Wieber

8 “Orientalism” in Art: The Case of John Frederick Lewis 121 Julie Codell

9 Wall to Wall: Zones of Artistic Engagement in Late Nineteenth‐Century America 139 Melody Barnett Deusner

10 “Like a Dog, Just Looking”: Cézanne, Innocence, and Early Phenomenological Thought in Nineteenth‐Century France 159 Nina Athanassoglou‐Kallmyer

11 Aesthetic Religion, Religious Aesthetics, and the Romantic Quest for Epiphany 175 Cordula Grewe

12 The Wanderers and Realism in Tsarist Russia 193 Josephine Karg

13 Thomas Cole and the Domestic Landscape of the Hudson River School 209 William L. Coleman

14 Sculpture and the Public Imagination: Nineteenth‐Century Site‐Specific Art of the Cemetery, the Garden, and the Street 225 Caterina Y. Pierre

15 Capturing Unconsciousness: The New Psychology, Hypnosis, and the Culture of Hysteria 243 Fae Brauer

16 Impressionism and the Mirror Image 263 Martha Lucy

17 Roots: Landscapes of Nationalism in the Long Nineteenth Century 281 Neil McWilliam

18 Australian Art in the Nineteenth‐Century: Forging a National Style 299 Catherine Speck

19 Tradition and Modernity in Nineteenth‐Century Catalan Art: From Romanticism to Picasso 315 M. Lluïsa Faxedas Brujats

20 Principle and Practice in Nineteenth‐Century Danish Landscape Painting 335 Thor J. Mednick Contents vii

21 Art and Multiculturalism in Estonia and Latvia, circa 1900 353 Bart Pushaw

22 Nationalism and the Myth of Hungarian Origin: Attila and Árpád 371 Terri Switzer

23 In the Service of the Nation: Forging the Identity of Polish Art in the Nineteenth Century 391 Agnieszka Rosales Rodriguez

24 Facing Modernism: Jean‐Antoine Houdon and the Politics of the Portrait Bust in Eighteenth‐Century France 413 Ronit Milano

25 Identity Tourism: Studio Stagings in Nineteenth‐Century Photography 431 Patricia G. Berman

26 The Meaning of the Verb “To Be” in Painting: Manet’s Olympia 451 Andrei Molotiu

27 Cassatt’s Singular Women: Reading Le Figaro and the Older New Woman 467 Ruth E. Iskin

28 Fashion, Lithography, and Gender Instability in Romantic‐Era Paris: A Case Study 485 Andrew Carrington Shelton

29 Racist or Hero of Social Art?: Degas, the Birth of Sociology, and the Biopolitical Gaze 499 Michael F. Zimmermann

Index 519

List of Figures

1.1 Moses Jacob Ezekiel, Religious Liberty, 1876. 2 1.2 Moses Jacob Ezekiel, Religious Liberty, 1876. 5 1.3 Moses J. Ezekiel, Eve Hearing the Voice, 1876. 8 1.4 Priestly blessing gesture depicted on the gravestone of Rabbi Meschullam Kohn (1739–1819). 11 2.1 Domenico Cunego, engraving after Gavin Hamilton, Achilles Dragging the Body of Hector around the Walls of Troy, 1766. 30 2.2 Pietro Testa, Achilles Dragging the Body of Hector around the Walls of Troy, c.1648. 31 2.3 Domenico Cunego (engraving after Gavin Hamilton), Achilles Mourning the Death of Patroclus, 1767. 31 2.4 Sandro Botticelli, Lamentation over the Dead Christ, 1490–92. 32 3.1 Jan Luyken, Kuiper (Cooper), 1694. 41 3.2 Jean‐François Millet, Cooper Tightening Staves on a Barrel, c.1848–1850. 42 4.1 Sir Edward Coley Burne‐Jones, King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid, 1884. 52 4.2 Emery Walker, Photograph of King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid by Edward Burne‐Jones. 53 4.3 Giovanni Bellini, Frari Altarpiece (Madonna between Saints Mark, Benedict, Nicholas and Peter). 60 4.4 Sandro Botticelli, Venus and Mars, c.1485. 62 6.1 “Dowdeswell & Dowdeswells, Limited, 160, New Bond Street.” 87 6.2 “Intended Façade of the Grosvenor Gallery, New Bond Street—Mr. William Thomas Sams, Architect, Doorway by Palladio.” 88 6.3 “The Grosvenor Gallery New Bond Street, London, Built for Sir Coutts Lindsay, Bart.—Mr. William Thomas Sams, Architect.” 89 6.4 Thomas Rowlandson, Italian Picture Dealers Humbugging My Lord Anglaise, 30 May 1812. 93 7.1 Carl Friedrich Lessing. Gorge with Ruins, 1830. 107 7.2 Johann Friedrich Vogel. Seni before the Corpse of Wallenstein (painting by Karl Piloty). 111 x List of Figures

7.3 Olaf Gulbransson. Bound by Medals! 115 7.4 Anton von Werner. Proclamation of the German Emperor in Versailles, 1882 (second version). 116 8.1 John Frederick Lewis. A Lady Receiving Visitors (The Reception), 1873. 125 8.2 John Frederick Lewis. A Frank Encampment in the Desert of Mount Sinai. 1842—The Convent of St. Catherine in the Distance, 1856. 125 8.3 Eugène Delacroix. Women of Algiers in Their Apartment, 1834. 133 8.4 Henriette Browne. The Visit in the Harem/The Arrival in the Harem at Constantinople, 1861. 133 9.1 “Art Gallery.” 141 9.2 Alexander H. Wyant, A New England Landscape. 143 9.3 “The Art Gallery of the Union League Club as Illuminated by the United States Electric Lighting Company.” 149 9.4 G.A. Davis, “Work of the University Settlement Society of New York City—An Art Exhibition in the Tenement District.” 154 11.1 Franz Pforr, Raphael, Fra Angelico and Michelangelo on a Cloud above Rome, 1810. 178 11.2 Samuel Amsler, after Johann Friedrich Overbeck, Triumph of Religion in the Arts, 1841. 181 11.3 Carl Hoff, after Franz Pforr, Dürer and Raphael before the Throne of Art, 1832. 182 11.4 Sketch after Johann Friedrich Overbeck, Raphael and Dürer Kneeling Before the Enthroned Church, 1817. 188 12.1 Vasily Grigorevich Perov, Easter Procession in a Village, 1861. 199 12.2 Ilya Yefimovich Repin, They Did Not Expect Him, 1884–1888. 200 12.3 Vasily Ivanovich Surikov, Boyarinia Morozova, 1883–1887. 204 13.1 Thomas Cole, Landscape, the Seat of Mr. Featherstonhaugh in the Distance, 1826. 213 13.2 Thomas Cole, View of Monte Video, the Seat of Daniel Wadsworth, Esq., 1828. 216 13.3 Thomas Cole, Gardens of the Van Rensselaer Manor House, 1840. 218 13.4 Thomas Cole, The Van Rensselaer Manor House, 1841. 219 14.1 Aimé‐Jules Dalou, Tomb of Victor Noir, 1889–1891. 229 14.2 John Quincy Adams Ward, George Washington, 1883. 234 14.3 Henry Kirke Brown, Equestrian Monument to George Washington, 1853–1856. 235 14.4 Vincenzo Vela, Monument to Giuseppe Garibaldi and the Como Days of March 1848, 1889. 237 15.1 Pierre Aristide André Brouillet, A Clinical Lesson at the Salpêtrière, 1887. 247 15.2 Paul Richer, Phase des contorsions (Art de cercle), 1881. 248 15.3 Albert Londe, Attaque d’hystérie chez l’homme, Guinin, Salle No. 3, 1 January 1885, twelve‐frame black and white chronophotography; Labor des Hôpital de la Salpêtrière, Paris. Public Domain. 254 15.4 Gustave Courtois, Le supplice de Saint Sébastien, 1895, oil on canvas, Église Saint‐Georges, Vesoul, France; permission of Église Saint‐ Georges de Vesoul, France. 256 16.1 Mary Cassatt, Woman with a Pearl Necklace in a Loge, 1879. Oil on canvas. Philadelphia Museum of Art. Bequest of Charlotte Dorrance Wright, 1978‐1‐5. 264 List of Figures xi

16.2 Edgar Degas, Madame Jeantaud in the Mirror, c.1875. 265 16.3 Édouard Manet, A Bar at the Folies‐Bergère, 1882. 266 16.4 Edgar Degas, At the Cafe‐Concert: The Song of the Dog, c.1876–1877. 270 17.1 Louis Haghe, Abbaye de Saint Guilhem, Languedoc, 1834. 288 17.2 Emmanuel Lansyer, Château of Pierrefonds, c.1868. 290 17.3 Camille Pissarro, The Banks of the Oise, Near Pontoise, 1876. 291 17.4 Hansi, from Mon Village. Ceux qui n’oublient pas. Images et commentaires par l’oncle Hansi, Paris, H. Floury, 1913. 295 18.1 John William Lewin, Fish Catch and Dawes Point, Sydney Harbour, c.1813. 302 18.2 John Glover, A corroboree of natives in Mills Plains, 1832, Deddington, Tasmania. 307 18.3 Tom Roberts, A break away!, 1891. 310 18.4 William Barak, Ceremony, 1899. 311 19.1 Lluís Domènech i Montaner, Palace of Catalan Music (Palau de la música catalana, Barcelona), 1906–1908. 321 19.2 Santiago Rusiñol, Courtyard on l’Île de la Cité, Paris (Pawn shop), 1889. 325 19.3 Joaquim Mir, The Cathedral of the Poor, 1898. 327 19.4 Isidre Nonell, Young Gypsy Woman, 1903. 329 20.1 Johan Thomas Lundbye, A Croft at Lodskov near Vognserup Manor, 1847. 336 20.2 Ejnar Nielsen, Landscape from Gjern, 1896–1897. 337 20.3 Dankvart Dreyer, Barrow on the Island of Brandsø, c.1842. 341 20.4 René Magritte, The Human Condition, 1933. 346 21.1 Janis Rozentāls, After the Service (From the Church), 1894. 356 21.2 Nikolai Triik, Battle, 1910. 363 21.3 Bernhard Borchert, Flight, 1911. 365 22.1 Béla Iványi Grünwald, The Warlord’s Sword (A Hadúr kardja), 1890. 372 22.2 J. Allen St. John, The Hun—His mark—Blot it out with Liberty Bonds, 1917–1918. 373 22.3 Mór Than, Feast of Attila, 1870. 378 22.4 Bertalan Székely, Blood Contract (Blood Treaty), 1896. 381 23.1 Piotr Michałowski, Battle of Somosierra, c.1837. 399 23.2 Teofil Kwiatkowski, Chopin’s Polonaise—a Ball in Hôtel Lambert in Paris. 402 23.3 Maksymilian Gierymski, Insurrectionary Patrol, 1872–1873. 404 23.4 Józef Brandt, Czarniecki at Kolding, 1870. 405 23.5 Jan Matejko, Rejtan, or the Fall of Poland, 1866. 406 24.1 Jean‐Antoine Houdon, Voltaire, 1778. 414 24.2 Jean‐Antoine Houdon, Sabine Houdon Aged Ten Months, 1788. 418 24.3 Carl Christian Vogel von Vogelstein, Ludwig Tieck, von David d’Angers porträtiert (David d’Angers Modeling the Bust of Ludwig Tieck), 1834. 422 24.4 Louis‐Léopold Boilly, L’atelier de Houdon (Houdon’s studio), c.1803. 423 25.1 Unknown studio photographer, Jacob Berman, c.1890. 432 25.2 Stud Marie Høeg, Self Portrait, c.1895. 433 25.3 Sojourner Truth, “I Sell the Shadow to Support the Substance,” c.1864. 439 25.4 Studio of Bobette Berg and Marie Høeg, Untitled, c.1895. 445 27.1 Mary Cassatt, Reading Le Figaro, c.1878. 468 27.2 Honoré Daumier, I beg your pardon sir, if I am getting in your way…, Le Charivari, March 8, 1844. 477 27.3 Pierre‐Auguste Renoir, Madame Eugene Fould, née Délphine Marchand, 1880. 479 xii List of Figures

28.1 Théodore Géricault, Boxers, 1818. 486 28.2 Achille Devéria, The Hearth, 1829. 487 28.3 Achille Devéria, Carnevale, 1830. 489 28.4 Achille Devéria, Portrait of Camille Roqueplan, 1829. 490 29.1 Edgar Degas. Young Spartans Exercising, 1860–1862. 502 29.2 Edgar Degas, Interior, also called The Rape, 1868–1869. 511 29.3 Edgar Degas, The Orchestra of the Opera, c.1870. 512 29.4 Edgar Degas, Dance Class, 1871. 513 About the Editor

Michelle Facos is Professor of Art History at Indiana University, Bloomington. A specialist in European art and culture in the long nineteenth century, especially the relationship of individuals to nature and to habitus, her books include: Nationalism and the Nordic Imagination: Swedish Art in the 1890s (1998), Symbolist Art in Context (2009), An Introduction to Nineteenth‐Century Art (2011), and the edited volumes Culture and National Identity in Fin‐de‐Siècle Europe (2003) with Sharon Hirsh and Symbolist Roots of Modern Art (2015) with Thor J. Mednick.

Notes on Contributors

Nina Athanassoglou‐Kallmyer is Editor‐in‐Chief of The Art Bulletin and Professor Emerita at the Art History department of the University of Delaware. She specializes in late eighteenth‐ and nineteenth‐century European art, with special focus on the arts and culture of France. Her publications include, among others, French Images from the Greek War of Independence. Art and Politics under the Restoration (1989); Eugène Delacroix: Prints Politics and Satire (1991); Cézanne and Provence: The Painter in his Culture (2003); and Théodore Géricault (2010). Samantha Baskind, Professor of Art History at Cleveland State University, is the author of five books, most recently The Afterlife of the Warsaw Ghetto in American Art and Culture, and co‐editor of the foundational volume The Jewish Graphic Novel: Critical Approaches. She served as editor for US art for the 22‐volume revised edition of the Encyclopaedia Judaica, and is currently series editor of Dimyonot: Jews and the Cultural Imagination, published by the Pennsylvania State University Press. Patricia G. Berman is Theodora L. and Stanley H. Feldberg Professor of Art at Wellesley College. She has curated numerous exhibitions relating to Edvard Munch, including “Edvard Munch and the Life of the Soul” (Museum of Modern Art, New York) and is a member of the research project “Edvard Munch, Modernism, and Modernity” at the University of Oslo, where she held a faculty position from 2010– 2015. Her books include: James Ensor: Christ’s Entry into Brussels in 1889 (2002) and In Another Light: Danish Painting in the Nineteenth Century (2007). Fae (Fay) Brauer is Professor of Art and Visual Culture at the University of East London Centre for Cultural Studies Research and Honorary Professor in Art History and Cultural Theory at the University of New South Wales National Institute for Experimental Art. Her books include Picturing Evolution and Extinction: Degeneration and Regeneration in Modern Visual Cultures (2015); Rivals and Conspirators: The Paris Salons and the Modern Art Centre (2013); The Art of Evolution: Darwin, Darwinisms and Visual Culture (2009), and Art, Sex and Eugenics, Corpus Delecti (2010). xvi Notes on Contributors

Brendan Cassidy taught chemistry in West Africa before taking his MA in Art History at Edinburgh and PhD at Cambridge. He has been Research Associate at the Warburg Institute (1985–1988) and Director of the Index of Christian Art at Princeton (1988– 1995). His research interests cover Italian art c.1250–1600, British art and the Grand Tour; recent publications include Politics, Civic Ideals and Sculpture in Italy c.1240– 1400 (2007) and The Life and Letters of Gavin Hamilton (2011). Julie Codell is Art History Professor and affiliate faculty in English, Gender Studies, Film, and Asian Studies, Arizona State University. Her publications include: The Victorian Artist (2003, 2012), edited Transculturation in British Art (2012); Power and Resistance (2012); The Political Economy of Art (2008); Imperial Co‐Histories (2003); and co‐edited Replication in the Long 19th Century (2018); Orientalism, Eroticism and Modern Visuality in Global Cultures (2016); Encounters in the Victorian Press (2004); and Orientalism Transposed (1998). William L. Coleman is Associate Curator of American Art at the Newark Museum, at work on a book titled Painting Houses: The Domestic Landscape of the Hudson River School. His articles have appeared in Huntington Library Quarterly, Bulletin of the Detroit Institute of Arts, and Nineteenth‐Century Art Worldwide. Melody Barnett Deusner is Assistant Professor of Art History at Indiana University Bloomington. In researching the visual and material culture of the late nineteenth century, she focuses primarily on patronage relationships, institutional formations, and the afterlives of objects. Her first book, A Network of Associations: Aesthetic Painting and its Patrons in Britain and America, will explore intersections between art making, social networking, and systems management in the transatlantic sphere. Johanna Ruth Epstein is an art historian, journalist, and critic. She holds a PhD from the Institute of Fine Arts, New York University, and has taught in Rhode Island, Virginia, and Beijing. Her articles, essays, and chapters appear in a range of publications including, most recently, Visualizing the Nineteenth‐Century Home: Modern Art and the Decorative Impulse (2016), an anthology to which she contributed a chapter. Her reviews appear in ARTnews. M. Lluïsa Faxedas Brujats is Lecturer on Modern Art and Catalan Art History at the University of Girona (Spain). She is a member of the Chair on Contemporary Art and Culture, and participates in many research projects. She has curated several exhibitions and has published articles on various aspects of Catalan art and on modern and contemporary art and culture, in addition to organizing symposia, conferences, and other research activities on these subjects. Pamela Fletcher is Professor of Art History at Bowdoin College. She is the author of Narrating Modernity: The British Problem Picture 1895–1914 (2003); the co‐editor (with Anne Helmreich) of The Rise of the Modern Art Market in London 1850–1939 (2011); she is currently writing a history of Victorian modern‐life painting. Together with David Israel, she created The London Gallery Project (2007, 2012), an interactive digital map of London’s nineteenth‐century art market. Cordula Grewe is an Associate Professor at Indiana University, Bloomington whose research interests center on aesthetics, piety, performance, and portraiture. Her publications include The Nazarenes: Romantic Avant‐garde and the Art of the Concept Notes on Contributors xvii

(2015) and Painting the Sacred in the Age of Romanticism (2009). She also edited a special issue of Intellectual History Review on German Art and Visual Culture 1848–1919 (17/2, 2007). She has held fellowships at Princeton’s Institute for Advanced Study and Freie Universität Berlin. Anne Helmreich is Dean of the College of Fine Arts at Texas Christian University. Previously, she was Senior Program Officer at the Getty Foundation, and prior to that position she was Associate Professor of Art History and Director of the Baker‐Nord Center for the Humanities at Case Western Reserve University. She co‐edited The Rise of the Modern Art Market in London, 1850–1939 (2013) with Pamela Fletcher, and co‐authored with Pamela Fletcher the award‐winning essay “Local/Global: Mapping Nineteenth‐Century London’s Art Market,” Nineteenth‐Century Art Worldwide. Ruth E. Iskin is on the faculty at Ben Gurion University of the Negev. Her book The Poster: Art, Advertising, Design, and Collecting, 1860s–1900s appeared in 2014, and Modern Women and Parisian Consumer Culture in Impressionist Painting in 2007. She is the editor of Re‐envisioning the Contemporary Art Canon: Perspectives in a Global World (2017). Her articles have appeared in numerous journals, including the Art Bulletin, Discourse, Visual Resources, Nineteenth‐Century Art World Wide, and in anthologies and museum catalogues, most recently for an exhibition at the Guggenheim Bilbao. Josephine Karg works at the Kunsthalle in Hamburg and is a PhD candidate at Justus‐ Liebig‐University Giessen, where she is writing a dissertation about Russian and Polish Symbolist painting (1880–1910) in Tsarist Russia and Galicia, an intercultural study with reflection on religious art and craft by Mikhail Vrubel’ and Stanisław Wyspiański. She has worked at the Gerhard Richter Archive and is especially interested in Symbolist painting and late nineteenth‐century Eastern European art. Martha Lucy is Deputy Director for Education and Public Programs and Curator at the Barnes Foundation. She is the co‐author of Renoir in the Barnes Foundation (2012) and has published many essays on topics ranging from evolutionary theory in the work of Degas to the aesthetic theories of Leo Stein. Her current research focuses on images of the toilette in nineteenth‐century visual culture, and on the sense of touch in Renoir’s late paintings. Patricia Mainardi, Professor of Eighteenth‐ and Nineteenth‐Century Art at City University of New York, was “Professeure invitée” at the Institut National d’histoire de l’art in Paris from 2000–2010. She has published widely on European visual culture, including Art and Politics of the Second Empire: The Universal Expositions of 1855 and 1867 (1989); The End of the Salon: Art and the State in the Early Third Republic (1993); Husbands, Wives, and Lovers: Marriage and Its Discontents in Nineteenth‐Century France (2003); and, most recently, Another World: Nineteenth‐Century Illustrated Print Culture (2017). Neil McWilliam is Walter H. Annenberg Professor of Art History at Duke University. Specializing in the relationship among art criticism, aesthetics, and political theory in the long nineteenth century, his recent publications include Emile Bernard: Les Lettres d’un artiste, 1884–1941 (2012) and L’Art social en France de la Révolution à la Grande Guerre (2014). He is currently completing a monograph on nationalism and the visual arts in early twentieth‐century France. xviii Notes on Contributors

Thor J. Mednick is Associate Professor of Art History at the University of Toledo (Ohio), and a fellowship recipient from the American Scandinavian Foundation and the John L. Loeb, Jr. Foundation. A widely published specialist on Danish art, he has worked at the Statens Museum in Copenhagen and is currently collaborating on an exhibition Danish landscape painting. Together with Michelle Facos, he co‐edited The Symbolist Roots of Modern Art (2015). Ronit Milano is Senior Lecturer in the Department of Arts at Ben‐Gurion University of the Negev. She has written on both eighteenth‐century and contemporary art in journals including Museum and Curatorial Studies Review (on Jeff Koons), Sculpture Journal, and Studies in Visual Art and Communication, and is the author of The Portrait Bust and French Cultural Politics in the Eighteenth Century (2015), and, together with William Barcham, co‐edited Happiness or Its Absence in Art (2013). Andrei Molotiu is Senior Lecturer in the Department of Art History at Indiana Unversity, Bloomington. A specialist in both eighteenth‐ and nineteenth‐century art and the history of comics, he has published on a diverse range of subjects, from Steve Ditko’s Amazing Spider‐Man and Hergé’s Tintin to Henri Focillon’s theory of art. His books include Abstract Comics: The Anthology (2009) and Fragonard’s Allegories of Love (2007). Caterina Y. Pierre is Professor of Art History at CUNY Kingsborough Community College. She received her doctorate in Art History from the CUNY Graduate Center (2005). She has published on sculptors of the Second Empire and the Third Republic, specifically Gustave Courbet, Jules Dalou, and Marcello. Her book Genius Has No Sex: The Sculpture of Marcello (1836–1879), was published in 2010 by Éditions de Penthes/ Infolio. She is currently writing on nineteenth‐century cemetery sculpture. Bart Pushaw is a PhD candidate in the Department of Art History and Archaeology at the University of Maryland. His research focuses on the intersections of race, colo- nialism, gender, and identity in the visual culture of the Baltic and Nordic countries. Recent publications include Conductors of Colour: Music and Modernity in Estonian Art (2016), numerous articles, and a forthcoming volume Visual Culture Exchange in the Baltic Sea Region, 1772–1918, co‐edited with Michelle Facos. Agnieszka Rosales Rodriguez is Associate Professor at the Institute for Art History at the University of Warsaw and Curator of Polish Art at the Nationalmuseum in Warsaw. She curated the exhibition “Biedermeier” at the National Museum in Warsaw (2017– 2018), and has written on numerous topics, most recently: In the Footsteps of the Old Masters. The Myth of Golden Age Holland in 19th‐ Century Art and Art Criticism (2016) and “French Century” and Images of Rococo in the Light of Modern Criticism and Art. Visions, Revisions, Interpretations (2016). Andrew Carrington Shelton is Professor in the Department of History of Art at The Ohio State University. He is the author of Ingres and his Critics (2005) and Ingres (2008). He is currently at work on a series of essays exploring the intersection of art and masculinity in 19th‐century France as well as a book‐length study on the lithogra- pher Achille Devéria. Catherine Speck is Professor of Art History at the University of Adelaide. Publications include Painting Ghosts: Australian Women Artists in Wartime (2004); Heysen to Heysen: Selected Letters of Hans Heysen and Nora Heysen (2011); Beyond the Battlefield: Notes on Contributors xix

Women Artists of the Two World Wars (2014), which is cross‐national in focus; and Australian Art Exhibitions: A New Story (2017). Terri Switzer is Professor of Art History and Director of the Art History Program at St. Ambrose University. A former Fulbright‐Hays scholar, Switzer received her PhD in Art History and MA in Arts Administration from Indiana University. Her research explores nationalism during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, particularly in Eastern Europe and Russia. Her articles have been included in Art, Culture and National Identity in Fin‐de‐Siècle Europe (2003) and Water, Leisure and Culture: European Historical Perspectives (2002). Sabine Wieber is a Lecturer in History of Art, Architecture, and Design at the University of Glasgow. Her research areas are late nineteenth‐century Austria and Germany. She has published on the domestic interior, national identity, art institutions, gender formation, craft revivals, and medical health/psychiatry. She is currently working on a book that explores the rich cultural context of German Jugendstil with a focus on women. Andrea Wolk Rager is the Jesse Hauk Shera Assistant Professor in the Department of Art History and Art at Case Western Reserve University. She received her PhD from Yale in 2009 and held a Postdoctoral Research Associateship at the Yale Center for British Art. There in 2013 she co‐curated the exhibition “Edwardian Opulence: British Art at the Dawn of the Twentieth Century” and co‐edited the accompanying cata- logue. She is currently writing a monograph on Edward Burne‐Jones. Michael F. Zimmermann is Professor of Art History at Catholic University in Eichstätt‐Ingolstadt and member of the Academia Europaea, London. He has served as Associate Director of the Zentralinstitut für Kunstgeschichte (Munich) and as Professor at the University of Lausanne. His publications include Seurat and the Art Theory of his Time (1991); Die Industrialisierung der Phantasie (2006); and he edited the volume Vision in Motion. Streams of Sensation and the Variations of Time (2016).

Series Editor’s Preface

Blackwell Companions to Art History is a series of edited collections designed to cover the discipline of art history in all its complexities. Each volume is edited by specialists who lead a team of essayists, representing the best of leading scholarship, in mapping the state of research within the sub-field under review, as well as pointing toward future trends in research. This Companion to Nineteenth-century Art aims to rebalance the Paris-focused view of the art world in this period. Attention is paid to developments and art movements across Europe and beyond, including materials available for this first time in English. In addition, key themes and artists, and the condition and practices of the art world itself are scrutinized together with the impact of science and photography on the visual expression of gender and race. The importance of the past during this crucial period that witnessed the emergence of ‘modern’ art is not forgotten. Together, these essays combine to provide an exciting and challenging revision of our conception and understanding of nineteenth-century art in that will be essential reading for students, researchers and teachers across a broad spectrum of interests. A Companion to Nineteenth-century Art is a very welcome addition to the series.

Acknowledgments

My love of nineteenth‐century art was first kindled in an undergraduate course I took with Kirk Varnedoe at Columbia University in 1976, and nurtured by him and his inspiring colleagues at New York University’s Insititute of Fine Arts: Gert Schiff and Robert Rosenblum. They inspired my desire to rebalance our understanding of nineteenth‐century art by exploring regions cast to the margins by most twentieth‐century art historians, a mission addressed by this volume. I am indebted to the American Council of Learned Societies and to Indiana University for allowing me indispensable teaching‐free time for the completion of this project, and to Wiley editors Jane Fargnoli, who commissioned this wonderful project, and Elisha Benjamin, whose expertise guided me through the always challenging editorial process. Madeleine Levy prepared the index with her customary meticulousness.

Introduction Michelle Facos

In order to know the nineteenth century, one must both skim its surface and plumb its depths. What challenges did artists face during this era? How did they learn and how did they meet clients? What circumstances affected the choices they made and the opportunities they encountered? How and where did “the public” and critics experience art, and what conditions affected their perceptions and judgment? For far too long, the “story” of nineteenth‐century art has been shackled to developments in France, specifically Paris, to the virtual exclusion (or at least subordination) of those occurring elsewhere. In classrooms as in scholarship, disproportionate attention has been allocated to the art world of Europe’s most unstable nineteenth‐century nation, which experienced ten regime changes in the course of a century. While Paris provided a dynamic setting, culturally, politically, and socially, myopic focus on it (as Michael F. Zimmermann explains) results in a distorted understanding of art, cultural production, and the relationships between artist and society during this period. Isn’t every nation’s, every people’s, cultural heritage significant? Recent efforts to complicate the assumption of Paris as the center of the art world in the nineteenth century have created a more robust and complete picture of art in Europe at this time, emphasizing that the relationship between center and periphery was based on lively exchange and bringing to our attention underappreciated artists. Still, to validate a periphery is to reify a center. Why must our comprehension, contextualization, and analysis of an epoch first be stabilized by a map that establishes a hegemonic cultural/geographical relationship? Artists lived and worked in their widely varied contexts; they negotiated, represented, and responded to those contexts, Parisian or otherwise. A living history should be animated by those who lived it and be informed by their experiences. Similarly, a responsible practice of history should entail understanding, not judging, particularly when that judging reinforces long‐discarded teleo- logical notions of artistic “progress” and the eschatological march toward abstraction. This volume seeks to redress the prevailing skewed perception of nineteenth‐century art by including major developments beyond French borders. Several chapters offer broad overviews of both national and transnational developments, as well as new and innovative microhistorical investigations of individual art works, artists, and issues, enabling xxvi Michelle Facos readers to begin formulating a more holistic and nuanced understanding of the art world during this first, truly modern century. Insightful national overviews are provided for Australia (Catherine Speck), Catalonia (M. Lluïsa Faxedas Brujats), Hungary (Terri Switzer), and Poland (Agnieszka Rosales Rodriguez), whose singular histories have been inaccessible (except for Australia), partly, at least, because few scholars writing the history of nineteenth‐century art read the relevant languages. These chapters are complemented by focused considerations of particularly significant national art movements that often had no direct parallel in France, further broadening our understanding of the century’s diverse and seminal developments. Cordula Grewe discusses the profound religiosity of German Nazarene painters during a century of alleged secu- larization, Josephine Karg explores the efforts of the Russian “Wanderers” to bring art to “the people,” Thor J. Mednick reveals the singular significance of landscape in Denmark, and Bart Pushaw shows how Estonian and Latvian art anticipated multiculturalism. Neil McWilliam’s chapter on nationalism and landscape places these developments into a broader, theoretical perspective. In addition to particular national identities, several authors focus on other aspects of identity—individual, ethnic, gender, and religious. Samantha Baskind explores sculptor Moses Jacob Ezekiel’s negotiation of a dual Jewish‐American identity, while Patricia G. Berman ponders the expression of ethnic and gender identity in photography. The emergence of new media such as photography (circa 1839) and lithography (circa 1796) provided artists not only with new means of expression and a universe of new possibilities to explore, but also with cheap and reproducible media that democratized and enabled self‐expression. Like Berman, Andrew Carrington Shelton focuses on the fashioning of identity, utilizing as a point of departure Achille Devéria’s lithographic portrait of a flamboyant contemporary homeless man known as Carnevale. Both Berman and Shelton also delve into the psychological implications of these ventures, while Fae Brauer focuses more narrowly on the pathologization of psychology, especially hysteria, scrutinizing the ways in which “scientific” investigations both challenged and reinforced conventional notions regarding gender identity and how photography aided in this enterprise. Because it is difficult to gain a solid understanding of certain general trends in the nineteenth century, several authors offer perceptive surveys that enable a more nuanced contextualization of even familiar artists and art works. Pamela Fletcher and Anne Helmreich provide an overview of the art market during an era of entrepreneurial dyna- mism, while Patricia Mainardi succinctly explains the singular and rapidly changing nature of exhibition practice. Melody Barnett Deusner takes a more focused look at exhibition experiences in Gilded Age New York, pointing out the varied viewing spaces for art—from dedicated spaces in museums and galleries to more informal, temporary, and exclusive spaces such as department stores and private clubs. The significance of exhibiting works in particular locations is similarly a concern of Caterina Y. Pierre, who provides instructive case studies of sculptures placed in cemeteries, gardens, parks, and squares in New York and Paris. Sabine Wieber examines the network of German art academies—the first to accept women artists and the training ground for numerous international artists; at the end of the nineteenth century, census numbers showed Munich, not Paris, having the highest concentration of professional artists. In a century noted for the advent of modernism, Johanna Ruth Epstein documents the reasons why seventeenth‐century Dutch art exerted such great influence on artists including Courbet, Millet, and van Gogh, while Brendan Cassidy looks back on the Introduction xxvii transformative impact of the Grand Tour to Italy on late eighteenth‐century British artists. Martha Lucy identifies the leitmotif of the mirror as an illuminating lens for understanding the era’s inquiry into the nature of reality. Close examinations of aspects of individual artists’ careers reveal their relationships to larger issues of their time and place: Ronit Milano explains the hidden meaning behind facial expression in Houdon’s sculpted busts, Julie Codell explores Orientalism thorough the works of painter John Frederick Lewis, William L. Coleman investigates Thomas Cole’s heretofore neglected impact on domestic landscape in the Hudson Valley, Nina Athanassoglou‐Kallmyer offers a new way of conceptualizing Cézanne through the lens of phenomenology, and Michael F. Zimmermann reveals Degas as a serious sociologist, who used images rather than words to describe the social fabric of late nineteenth‐century Paris. Finally, close examinations of individual, canonical art works offer novel and valuable insights into familiar works, their artists, and the milieus in which they were produced. Andrea Wolk Rager explains how Edward Burne‐Jones’s King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid addressed contemporary mores in a discreetly historical subject painting, while Ruth E. Iskin argues for the interpretation of Mary Cassatt’s portrait of her mother in Le Figaro as a mature “New Woman.” Andrei Molotiu tackles the vast literature on Manet’s Olympia, posing a simple question that challenges conventional interpretations of this path‐breaking work. We hope these studies clarify, enlighten, and inspire readers to investigate more broadly and more deeply the fertile and stimulating world of nineteenth‐century visual culture and to discover value and significance in the places art history has too long ignored.

Moses Jacob Ezekiel’s Religious Liberty (1876) and the Nineteenth‐Century Jewish American Experience Samantha Baskind

Sculptor Moses Jacob Ezekiel (1844–1917) was the first Jewish American artist to earn international acclaim. Despite his occasional discouragement due to lack of patronage, Ezekiel persevered because, as he wrote in his autobiography, Memoirs from the Baths of Diocletian: “The race to which I belong had been oppressed and looked down upon through so many ages, I felt that I had a mission to perform. That mission was to show that, as the only Jew born in America up to that time who had dedicated himself to sculpture, I owed it to myself to succeed in doing something worthy in spite of all the difficulties and trials to which I was subjected” (281). His best‐known work is a commission from the Jewish fraternal organization, B’nai B’rith: a freestanding marble group from 1876 depicting Religious Liberty (Figure 1.1). Ezekiel’s unique Jewish experience imbues this sculpture with elements of both his Southern and religious roots, shaped by his proximity to one of the most radical and influential rabbis in America, Isaac Mayer Wise. While Ezekiel’s Religious Liberty is fully “American” in theme, the artist also subtly addressed alternate, “Jewish” tensions beyond his celebra- tion of religious liberties in his homeland. Indeed, Religious Liberty alludes to an essential contemporary concern of both Ezekiel and many of his nineteenth‐century coreligionists: fear of assimilation amid temptations confronted because of the very freedoms they were enjoying. Ezekiel’s American background differed substantially from his peers—not only the few other known nineteenth‐century Jewish American artists, but also the general Jewish population of his day, primarily immigrants. Ezekiel, one of fourteen children, was a second‐generation American—his paternal grandparents immigrated to Philadelphia in 1808 (in 1820 fewer than 2750 Jews lived in the United States). The Ezekiels were Iberian Jews (Sephardic) rather than Eastern Europeans (Ashkenazi). The earliest Jewish immigrants to America were Sephardic Jews—many came to the New World after several generations as refugees in more tolerant Holland, first arriving

Figure 1.1 Moses Jacob Ezekiel, Religious Liberty, 1876. Marble, 25 ft. high. National Museum of American Jewish History, Philadelphia. Photo: Samantha Baskind. in New Amsterdam in 1654. Sephardic Jews dominated American Jewry until the mas- sive influx of German Jews, followed by Jews from other Eastern European countries as the Jewish population surged in the nineteenth century; 15,000 Jews lived in the US in 1840, but by 1880 the population had swelled to over 250,000 Jews, largely of German origin (Glazer 1972). After several years in Philadelphia, the Ezekiel family moved to Virginia. Ezekiel, born in Richmond, was the first Jew to attend the Virginia Military Institute. Serving as a cadet in the Confederate Army during the American Civil War, Ezekiel fought in the Battle of New Market. Although his family owned no slaves and did not advocate slavery, Ezekiel allied with the Confederacy because, as he wrote in an after‐the‐fact evasion, he believed that each state should make its own autonomous decisions: “None of us had ever fought for slavery and, in fact, were opposed to it.… Our struggle … was simply a constitutional one, based on the constitutional state’s rights and especially on MOSES JACOB EZEKIEL’S RELIGIOUS LIBERTY (1876) 3 free trade and no tariff” (Ezekiel 1975, 188). Regrettably, while coming from his own place of oppression, and grateful for the freedoms afforded Jews by living in America, Ezekiel was not immune to prejudicial thinking. Following the Civil War Ezekiel graduated from VMI and studied medicine because he felt that a career in art was impossible and that medicine would provide financial security. Meantime, his childhood interest in art nagged at him; as a boy he had experi- mented with drawing and painting before he began sculpting at age thirteen. After a year at the Medical College of Virginia, Ezekiel dropped out, but not before he took several anatomy classes, which doubtless influenced his later study of the human figure as a professional sculptor. In 1867 Ezekiel moved to Cincinnati, where his parents had relocated from ravaged postwar Richmond. His father’s dry goods business had burned to the ground and the family’s attempt to rebuild was fruitless. Cincinnati seemed hospitable because of its large Jewish population, including relatives of Ezekiel’s mother. For the younger Moses Ezekiel, Cincinnati held promise as an artistic center; among others, sculptors Henry Kirke Brown and Hiram Powers were once based there, as was one of the few successful nineteenth‐century American artists of Jewish heritage: the painter Henry Mosler, whom Ezekiel knew. Mosler, who joins Ezekiel and Solomon Nunes Carvalho as the small cadre of nineteenth‐century Jewish Americans who made names for themselves as fine artists, began his career as an artist correspondent for Harper’s Weekly during the Civil War. Mosler studied in Europe at the Düsseldorf Academy and the École des Beaux‐Arts in Paris, and soon became a painter of genre scenes, frequently picturing peasant life in Brittany. He contributed entries to the French Salon from 1878 to 1897; his 1879 submission, Le Retour, received Honorable Mention from the Salon jury and was purchased for the Musée du Luxembourg, the first painting by an American artist bought by the French government. When Ezekiel visited Paris he spent some time in Mosler’s studio. Carvalho worked as a painter, and based on similarities in the artists’ painting style, technique, and subject matter, it has been surmised that the well‐known portraitist Thomas Sully may have trained him (Berman 1990–1991, 68–71). Carvalho’s fame, though, rests on his daguerreotypes for John C. Frémont’s 1853 exploratory expedition through Kansas, Utah, and Colorado. Encouraged by artists he met in Cincinnati, Ezekiel—eager for more extensive education—went to Europe to study at the Royal Academy of Art in Berlin. His training there—from 1869 to 1871—shaped his academic style, his propensity for allegory and historical subjects, and his belief in the central role of the faithfully rendered human figure in his art. Ezekiel later moved to Rome, where he was surrounded by ancient and Renaissance sculpture, particularly by Michelangelo, which reinforced his classicizing tendencies. Committed to what he understood as a timeless style already regarded by some modern artists as outmoded, Ezekiel readily condemned his own celebrated con- temporaries. About Auguste Rodin Ezekiel wrote, “I saw Rodin’s Victor Hugo bust, which is simply a hurried, pretentious affectation by a talented man.… Rodin did some good work in earlier times, but his fragments and sketchy works today show only that he caters to a false taste in art” (Ezekiel 1975, 399, 400). After five years in Berlin, Ezekiel became a permanent expatriate, living in Rome for the next forty‐three years of his life; his studio in the ruins of the Baths of Diocletian became a fashionable gathering‐place for artisans of all persuasions, as well as for royalty and politicians. Internationally known, Ezekiel received numerous honors: the cava- lier’s cross of merit for art and science from the Grand Duke of Saxe‐Meiningen in 4 Samantha Baskind

1887; an award from Kaiser Wilhelm of Germany in 1893; a visit from Theodore Roosevelt in 1902; and knighthood from the King of Italy in 1907. At the same time, Ezekiel remained devoted to America and its ideals. He never surrendered his American citizenship, and his will specified that his body return to the US after his death. He was buried with full military honors beneath the 32.5 foot Confederate memorial that he designed for Arlington National Cemetery (1914); a eulogy by President Warren Harding, read at his funeral, lauded Ezekiel as “a great Virginian, a great artist, a great American, and a great citizen of world fame” (Cohen and Gibson 2007, 26). His gravestone reads: “Moses J. Ezekiel, Sergeant of Company C, Battalion of Cadets of the Virginia Military Institute.” Ezekiel’s fervent patriotism and his grateful commitment to his native country were affirmed by his portraits of American political luminaries. A proud Southerner, Ezekiel was disappointed when he was not asked to sculpt Robert E. Lee, whom he knew per- sonally and socialized with after the war. According to Ezekiel’s autobiography, Lee had encouraged him to pursue a career in art. He quoted the general: “I hope you will be an artist as it seems to me you are cut out for one. But whatever you do, try to prove to the world that if we did not succeed in our struggle, we were worthy of success. And do earn a reputation in whatever profession you undertake” (Ezekiel 1975, 124). A few of the sculptures Ezekiel did carve of prominent American figures—all produced after his move to Europe—are three portraits of Thomas Jefferson, a fellow Virginian. He first carved a marble bust (1888) for the Senate’s Vice Presidential Bust Collection. A later commission—from two Jewish philanthropist brothers—resulted in a 9‐foot bronze statue of Jefferson, originally placed in front of the Jefferson County Courthouse in Louisville (1901). Jefferson stands atop the Liberty Bell, as drafter of the Declaration of Independence, holding the document outward. Ezekiel depicted Jefferson in his thirties, the future president’s age at the time when he wrote the Declaration. As a man who epitomized democratic ideals and who authored the Virginia Bill for Establishing Religious Freedom, Jefferson stood for the very religious liberty that Ezekiel celebrated with his own marble group. A smaller replica of the Jefferson sculpture (1910) was erected near the Rotunda at the University of Virginia, founded by Jefferson in 1819. Ezekiel also produced a full‐length bronze statue of General Stonewall Jackson (1910), on commission from the Charleston, West Virginia chapter of the United Daughters of the Confederacy (1909), with a replica at the Virginia Military Institute (1912). He executed a bronze Christopher Columbus (1892) for the 1893 World’s Columbian Exhibition, the Chicago world’s fair celebrating the discovery of the New World. In 1874, Ezekiel began his first major commission: the neoclassical, 25‐foot allegory Religious Liberty. This project came as a surprise, with an invitation to submit a design arriving by letter to Ezekiel in Berlin. Ezekiel immediately penciled a sketch on the back of the envelope, which he wrote “flashed upon my mind at once” (Exekiel 1975, 164). That original arrangement barely changed in the final version, except for a single altera- tion, suggested by the B’nai B’rith monument committee: instead of Faith reaching both hands up to heaven, they preferred that the boy in the group hold a lamp with the eternal flame in one hand. Ezekiel ceded artistic control on this single detail and returned to Europe (Ezekiel 1975, 167). Carved in a newly rented studio in Rome before any payment from the B’nai B’rith, Religious Liberty was intended to be unveiled at the upcoming 1876 Centennial International Exposition, the world’s fair in Philadelphia celebrating the 100th anniver- sary of the Signing of the Declaration of Independence. Religious Liberty presents the MOSES JACOB EZEKIEL’S RELIGIOUS LIBERTY (1876) 5

Figure 1.2 Moses Jacob Ezekiel, Religious Liberty, 1876. Marble, 25 ft. high. National Museum of American Jewish History, Philadelphia. Photo: Samantha Baskind. classicized Liberty as an 8‐foot woman, wearing a coat of mail partly covered by a toga (Figure 1.2). Atop this armor and ancient dress appears a breastplate bearing the shield of the United States. She dons a Phrygian cap, the pilleus libertatis, bestowed on freed slaves, with a border of thirteen golden‐colored stars to symbolize the original colonies. She holds a laurel wreath of victory, which also rests on fasces, a bundle of birch rods tied together with a ribbon that function as a symbol of power and unified strength. In turn, the fasces are covered by an open book, meant to signal the US Constitution. Liberty extends her right arm protectively over the idealized, nude young boy at her right, a personification of Faith, who does indeed grasp a flaming lamp as he reaches a hand up to heaven. At Liberty’s feet an eagle, representing America, attacks a serpent, signifying Intolerance (and, as I will soon argue, also Temptation), and Faith steps on the serpent’s tail. The group stands on a pedestal bearing the inscription “Religious Liberty, Dedicated to the People of the United States by the Order B’nai B’rith and 6 Samantha Baskind

Israelites of America.” Even though the B’nai B’rith (literally “Sons of the Covenant”), founded in New York in 1843 by German immigrants, defaulted on advance payment due to financial difficulties, Ezekiel continued working on the sculpture. He wrote of living in poverty—giving up his apartment and moving into his studio where he slept on a folding chair, and quitting smoking to save money—and of having to borrow money to pay for materials (Ezekiel 1975, 185). Nonetheless, Ezekiel persisted because of his sense of obligation to the Jewish people: “It was the first monument that any Jewish body of men had ever wanted to place in the world; the matter had been published to the world, I had received the commission without ever seeking it, and it would have been an eternal disgrace upon every Jewish community in America if the work had been abandoned” (Ezekiel 1975, 185). Ezekiel was not paid until three years after the sculpture was delivered from Rome to Philadelphia, and then not the full, originally agreed amount of $20,000. The statue’s message would have been easily recognizable to nineteenth‐century viewers even without an inscription because Ezekiel made use of a common trope of the moment: Lady Liberty. For instance, Thomas Crawford’s bronze Freedom (1857), a female personification of Liberty, crowns the Capitol dome in Washington. Inside the Capitol building, Constantino Brumidi’s copious decorations include The Apotheosis of Washington (1865)—an illusionistic fresco showing Washington ascending to heaven, flanked by female allegories, including Liberty, in the cupola of the dome. Also, during the Revolutionary years, America was frequently depicted as a female personified as a virtue, such as Freedom or Liberty. Early images of Liberty, as far back as the third century bce in Rome, showed her (similar to Ezekiel’s conception) in a draped robe, but alternatively with other attrib- utes: a scepter, symbolizing sovereignty; a cat—an animal with no master—at her feet; and a shattered pitcher, indicating freedom from confinement, or the obvious broken chains. A key symbol of Liberty was her Phrygian cap. In one of the popular editions of Cesare Ripa’s influential emblem guide Iconologia (1603), Liberty is depicted as a middle‐aged woman wearing classical robes and a helmet, with her Phrygian cap hanging atop a scepter—sometimes termed a liberty pole, and a cat at her feet. At times, the Phrygian cap sat on a scepter and also on the heads of American Liberty figures. However, Liberty occasionally wore other headdresses, such as Indian feathers or a stars‐and‐stripes cap, to complement additional, distinctly American elements, such as the US flag and the bald eagle, rather than a cat or shattered object. In her American incarnations, Liberty took on many guises, with amendments based on either an artist’s desire or a commissioner’s request, as in the case of Thomas Crawford’s Statue of Freedom atop the Capitol dome. Crawford deviated from typical Liberty imagery, because one of his proposed designs, which incorporated a shield, a sword, and stars around a liberty cap, was opposed by slave‐owner Jefferson Davis— Secretary of War and later President of the Confederacy—who requested the elimina- tion of the customary liberty cap because of its status as a symbol of freed slaves. As a result, Crawford replaced the liberty cap with a helmet surmounted by an eagle head- dress. His final, militant 19‐foot Liberty grasps the hilt of a sheathed sword in her right hand, and in her left she holds a laurel wreath and the shield of the United States with thirteen stripes. Dressed in classical drapery, she stands on a globe encircled with the national motto, E Pluribus Unum, and fasces and wreaths decorate the lower part of her base. Ezekiel’s sculpture is not armed and bellicose like Crawford’s, yet she still wears mail, ever‐prepared to defend her liberty role even while wearing a peacetime toga. MOSES JACOB EZEKIEL’S RELIGIOUS LIBERTY (1876) 7

Instead she resolutely and peacefully strides forward with the common Liberty trappings of fasces, a Phrygian cap, and the bald eagle. In telling ways, Ezekiel’s Liberty strays from familiar precedents. She leans on the traditional Roman fasces, an emblem most associated with republican Rome, although in Roman art an axe typically appears with the fasces (Liberty was also depicted with fasces on the first and second seals of the French Republic, and she was the Republic’s emblem, known as Marianne, who also wore a Phrygian cap). Fasces, though, do function as an official symbol in several US government venues; for instance, two fasces are pictured on either side of the United States flag in the House of Representatives, the seal of the Senate features a pair of crossed fasces at bottom, fasces ring the base of Crawford’s Statue of Freedom, and Brumidi’s Liberty in the Capitol dome carries a fasces. Surely known to Ezekiel was Jean‐Antoine Houdon’s George Washington (1788–1792), who leans on fasces, in the Rotunda of the Virginia State Capitol in Richmond. Ezekiel’s original invention was the addition of the Constitution, lying open and covering the fasces. The inclusion of the Constitution atop the fasces reinforced the importance of the individual, and of the freedoms accorded to the individual, through this founding document. With regard to religion, Ezekiel’s pre‐eminent constitutional concern, the First Amendment specifically states, and which Ezekiel partially quoted in his autobiography when reflecting on Religious Liberty: “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof” (Ezekiel 1975, 168). In fact, when Religious Liberty first arrived in Philadelphia, she was placed on a temporary pedestal that bore these words prior to her installation on a permanent granite base. Thus far, Religious Liberty has been considered in its American context. Yet some of Ezekiel’s other divergences from tradition suggest tensions within the Jewish community at the time. The year Ezekiel finished modeling Religious Liberty in clay, he was simultane- ously working up in clay what would eventually become a bronze, Eve Hearing the Voice (1876; Figure 1.3). This life‐sized sculpture—a narrative conception rather than an alle- gorical one—depicts a nude Eve after she has been tempted by the serpent, eaten from the Tree of Knowledge, and been rebuked by God (Genesis 3:1–13). The naturally modeled Eve averts her head and painfully attempts to hide her face in the crook of her left arm, which crosses over her chest. At Eve’s feet, the serpent coils around the rock upon which she cowers. Eve’s bowed head looks downward, directly at the head of the serpent. Crucially, Ezekiel portrayed Eve without a navel because he understood the esoteric interpretation of the biblical text, which states that Eve was fashioned from one of Adam’s ribs (Ezekiel 1975. 181). The artist was raised as an Orthodox Jew, the descendent of rabbis, including a father heavily involved in Jewish communal life; his father, Moses, was the secretary of Richmond’s first synagogue and a scholar of Jewish theology (the elder Ezekiel owned all writings by Moses Maimonides, one of the chief Torah scholars whose work is revered to this day). Thus, Moses Ezekiel possessed intimate knowledge of both the Bible and Jewish thought. It is important to note that biblical subjects appeared in Ezekiel’s work more than once. Several are mentioned in his autobiography, but few sur- vive. He sculpted a torso of Judith (1881) and depicted Jesus several times, including a presentation titled Christ in the Tomb (1896) that showed Jesus with Semitic features. As a boy he modeled Cain Receiving the Curse of the Almighty and Moses Receiving the Law on Mount Sinai, and made a large drawing in crayon he called The Revolt of the Children of Israel in the Desert and the Stoning of Moses (all three of these latter works are now lost). Since Ezekiel repeated the same serpent iconography in his Eve Hearing the Voice as he worked on the B’nai B’rith commission, he must have attached special significance 8 Samantha Baskind

Figure 1.3 Moses J. Ezekiel, Eve Hearing the Voice, 1876, bronze, Cincinnati Art Museum, Gift of Dr. Merlyn McClure and the Family of Dr. George W. McClure, 1997.152. Image courtesy of the Cincinnati Art Museum. to its unusual inclusion as a symbol associated with Liberty. The serpent, tempter in the Garden of Eden, looms large in Judaism. Near the outset of Genesis, the serpent, through particularly crafty deception, tricks Eve into an act that God has expressly forbidden; the serpent convincingly argues that if Eve eats from the tree her “eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as God, knowing good and evil” (Genesis 3:5). Eve then saw that the tree provided good food, was attractive, and “was to be desired to make one wise,” so she ate from it (Genesis 3:6). Considering his familiarity with the Bible, especially this foundational story, Ezekiel shared a background steeped in time‐ honored education and ways with other nineteenth‐century Jewish Americans. As such, Ezekiel may have intended for the serpent in Religious Liberty to be interpreted not only as Intolerance, but additionally as Temptation. Furthermore, Faith stepping on the serpent’s tail, which wraps around the back of the sculpture, signals how in an American context retaining faith might allow an individual to resist America’s mani- fold temptations. MOSES JACOB EZEKIEL’S RELIGIOUS LIBERTY (1876) 9

No doubt, the temptations of American freedoms—beyond religious freedom— could also lead to license, distracting Jews from rigorous adherence to traditional Jewish law, thereby threatening the core values of Judaism. Known as Halakhah, these rules outline an encompassing way of living that influences all things, from what one can eat, to how holidays are observed (including the weekly Sabbath), to one’s cloth- ing, and how one should treat one’s fellow man. And true to Ezekiel’s iconographic commentary, America’s freedoms did dilute Judaism. Around 1792, a Virginia resident both extolled and lamented acculturation. Rebecca Samuels, an immigrant, wrote to her parents in Germany: “One can live here peacefully.” Nevertheless she also worried that her children would become gentile because of the lack of Jewish observance. Among her many regrets: “Jewishness is pushed aside here.… I crave to see a synagogue to which I can go. The way we live now is no life at all. We do not know what the Sabbath and the holidays are. On the Sabbath all the Jewish shops are open.… My children cannot learn anything here, nothing Jewish” (Marcus 1996, 142, 143). By virtue of his move to Cincinnati, Ezekiel lived amid these dramatic changes. The Bohemian‐born Rabbi Isaac Mayer Wise, recognized as the chief early exponent of American Reform Judaism (a modernized and Americanized form of Judaism), came to the United States in 1846. Initially he served as a rabbi in Albany, New York, but relocated to Cincinnati in 1854 to assume the pulpit at B’nai Yeshurun. There he published an English‐language weekly, the Israelite (later retitled American Israelite and still published), which allowed him to espouse the ideology of Reform Judaism to a national audience. The Cincinnati congregation B’nai Yeshurun stood as a flagship institution for liberal Jewish observance, with Wise the charismatic spokesman at its helm. B’nai Yeshurun introduced organ music during worship, advocated for the abandonment of old‐style dress and head coverings, and instituted considerably shorter services, with widespread English translations. In 1875, Wise founded and became president of the first Reform seminary in America, Hebrew Union College, based in Cincinnati, which trained rabbis to lead Reform congregations throughout the country. About these extreme modifications, which took place in Ezekiel’s homeland and which he viewed as diluting the Judaism he grew up with and preferred, the artist wrote in an 1892 letter:

The operatic‐hat‐off ape‐ism service [of Reform Judaism] is very distasteful to me. The difference between Judaism and all other religions is simply this: Moses created a people for a religion; all other created a religion for the people—and this latter is what the so called Reformers are attempting.… All the intelligent Christians I have met have more respect for a real Jew than one who apes them in a service dedicated to the one God. (Ezekiel 1975, 461–462; emphasis in original)

Nonetheless, Ezekiel modeled from life a bronze portrait bust of Isaac Mayer Wise (1899), the first sculpture of a rabbi by a Jewish artist. Apparently of his own volition and without a commission, Henry Mosler (1841–1920) painted Plum Street Temple (c.1866; Skirball Cultural Center, Los Angeles), a canvas detailing the exterior of Wise’s newly built temple, B’nai Yeshurun. Mosler’s portrait commissions also include a like- ness of Wise’s wife Therese Bloch Wise (c.1867). Ezekiel’s strong personal views on religion further substantiate the claim that the artist intended Religious Liberty to convey two meanings: a paean to religious freedom and a warning against too drastic assimilation. His inclusion of the serpent—a biblical symbol of deception—cautions against straying from divinely ordained and 10 Samantha Baskind long‐established practice and admonishes that there may be a steep price to pay for giving in to the temptation of extreme acculturation. Related to this, a few months after the sculpture was unveiled a number of supporters exhorted B’nai B’rith to fully com- pensate Ezekiel for Religious Liberty. One author of a letter to the editor for the American Israelite suggested a small fee be assessed from B’nai B’rith members to fulfill the original contract. He argued that honoring the contract provided a valuable precedent for the younger Jewish generation (many of whom were not immigrants)— the generation that especially enjoyed America’s liberties, certainly more so than the older generation, which hewed closely to tradition (Louis 1877, 80). It was that older generation Ezekiel may have intended to address, a generation fearful that compla- cency and aquiescence to mainstream American culture would water down Jewish life and culture. The B’nai B’rith request that Ezekiel place the eternal flame in Faith’s hands, indi- cates that, although the order was service based rather than religious, it still realized that components of traditional Judaism formed the group’s essence and had to be maintained to insure Jewish continuity. Early projects of the fraternal lodge involved the erection of the first Jewish community center in the United States, in New York in 1851. The following year B’nai B’rith dedicated the first Jewish public library in New York. Its nineteenth‐century humanitarian endeavors include disaster relief in 1868 after a severe flood in Baltimore. Still, the order valued the inclusion of the eternal flame as critical to Faith’s conception. The eternal flame, or eternal light (Ner Tamid), hangs near the Torah ark in all synagogues. As written in Exodus 27:20–21:

And thou shalt command the children of Israel, that they bring unto thee pure olive oil beaten for the light, to cause a lamp to burn continually. In the tent of meeting, without the veil which is before the testimony, Aaron and his sons shall set it in order, to burn from evening to morning before the Lord; it shall be a statute for ever throughout their generations on the behalf of the children of Israel.

This eternal light functions as a symbol of God’s eternal presence, a principal symbol recognizable by every Jew. Perhaps the most obvious example that the sculpture held an alternate meaning, for Ezekiel at least, is evidenced by another iconographical element: the striking, and out- wardly peculiar manner by which the artist conceived Liberty’s right hand. In this manifesto of freedom, Liberty’s elongated gesture, which extends over faith, also reaches over spectators of the sculpture, thereby offering them a protective blessing as well. Her fingers are spread in an unnatural configuration, with her two middle fingers connected, separated from her pinkie finger and index finger. That gesture recalls the priestly blessing, decreed in Numbers 6:24–26: “May God bless you and keep you. May God cause the divine light to shine upon you and be gracious to you. May God turn toward you, and grant you peace.” Ancient rabbis blessed the Jewish people in this way each morning after the sacrifice at the Holy Temple in Jerusalem, and during holidays and Sabbath services, while in its modern context the blessing is bestowed upon congregants near the end of prayer services and during major Jewish holidays in more observant temples. A rabbi raises his hands with palms facing downward and forward, and the four fingers separate into two groups with thumbs touching, a gesture sometimes reproduced on tombstones and Jewish ritual objects (Figure 1.4). The fingers are thus deliberately split into the Hebrew letter “shin,” the twenty‐first letter of the