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DanielW.Dietrich II ’64EDWARD HOPPER’S Road and Trees,amazing to say, returned to Hamiltonfor this exhibition. It was here long agoin 1964 at the Root Art Center amonga groupof Hopper oils,watercolors andetchings all assembledon loan inamajorshow.Upstairs anddownstairs through-out the center’s lovely roomswas awidearray of work to explore, and it wasrequired of the art history students tochoose a Hopper and write about it.

for this project is that the current generation of Hamil-ton students will be inspired to appreciate the rewardsof living with art and work to accumulate the intellec-tual and creative tools necessary to embark on a collect-ing career.”

Prior to the exhibition’s opening, lenders were invitedto share their thoughts about the works they loaned, theformative influence of their Hamilton experiences andwhat they have learned from friends and family aboutcollecting. Here are excerpts from just a few:

DAN DIETRICH

HEN THE EMER SON GAL L ERYcelebrated its 20th anniversary this springwith the exhibition Hamilton CollectsAmerican Art, not one, but two collectionsemerged — a collection of rarely seen paint-

ings by prominent artists and an equally compelling collec-tion of stories reflecting the exploration and discovery processesof the collectors themselves.

The exhibition included 62works from 30Hamilton lenders,many of them alumni whose love and appreciation of art was

first inspired while they were students on College Hill. Withpieces by such renowned artists as George Bellows, WinslowHomer, Edward Hopper and Norman Rockwell, the exhibi-tion offered a fresh look at the history of American art and itsrole in shaping our national identity.

“The drive to collect is probably as much a genetic disposi-tion as blue eyes or premature graying, but the collector’s focusand the skills he or she brings to the enterprise are products ofpersonal environment and education,” notedWilliam Salzillo,acting gallery director and professor of art. “One of our hopes

W

(Images may be viewed at www.hamilton.edu/gallery/hamiltoncollects)

TheArtof

COLLECTINGEDWARD HOPPER (1882-1967), Road and Trees, 1962, oil on canvas, 34 x 60 in., Collection Daniel W. Dietrich II

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Stephen andMary Craven P’99

COLLECTING ART is like studying history. Arttells a story; our collection tells the story ofAmerica from1900-1950.We started collectingwhen we were first married. Stephen had a lovefor art, having majored in painting in college,and I had a love for shopping. It was a perfectmatch that has sustained us for 30 years.

In the first years we couldn’t afford sig-nificant pieces, but loved visiting the galleriesand learning all we could. Our first majoracquisition forced us to eat macaroni for fourmonths in order to pay for the painting. Wewould forgo vacations and dinners out justso we could acquire another painting.We readabout art, visited galleries and poured overauction catalogs.

As the years passed an actual collectionstarted to take shape. We limited our acquisi-tions to American oil paintings from the firsthalf of the 20th century.We began, in the early’70s, by buyingAmerican Impressionist paint-ings. These were affordable then and the laterwork was very difficult to find.

I have a love for William Glackens’ work;I already had acquired two of his paintingswhen the beach scene became available. It isthought to depict a Cape Ann scene near oursummer home in Rockport. One of my hus-band’s favorite artists is John Sloan.He wouldlove to do an entire room with his paintings.He even named our son Sloan! Dogtown Com-mon was done while Sloan was in Gloucester,again near our summer home. It is a power-ful piece and could hold its own with other

quality works.While easily rec-ognizable as hav ing beenpainted by Sloan, it is not whatone first thinks of when con-sidering the artist’s work. Lesspredictable works are morechallenging. They enliven acollection and, like non-con-forming children, are appreci-ated more with time.

In addition to Sloan andGlackens, we like KennethHayes Miller and his students,Robert Henri and his students,the Steiglitz Group — I couldgo on and on. Before we acquirea particular piece, we researchthe artist. I enjoy learning aboutthe little idiosyncrasies of eachartist as it makes the person come alive to me.Generally, we prefer visiting galleries to muse-ums. Gallery owners are a tremendous sourceof information, happy to relay any knowledgeof the artist or painting, whereas many muse-ums are often too formal for us. I learn muchmore at a gallery. I can get as close as I wantand ask as many questions as I desire, oftentoo, seeing preliminary studies or alternateversions of a piece.

Now, 30 years later, we are still collecting.Our paintings fill two homes, and there are stillcanvases stacked on the floor. We periodicallyrearrange the paintings to make them seem“new”andhave recently started to acquire somesculptural pieces and decorative works. I thinka true collector never has a complete collection.There is such fun in the hunt.We would love tofind a wonderful Marin oil or a Hartley or aKuhn circus painting. But there is the fun.

WILLIAM GLACKENS (1870-1938), At the Beach, ca. 1919, oil on canvas,

10 x 14 in., Collection Stephen and Mary Craven

JOHN SLOAN (1871-1951), Dogtown Common, 1930, oil on canvas, 20 x 24 in., Collection Stephen and Mary Craven

STEVE ANDMARY CRAVEN

I did my paper on some classic, forthrightpainting well inside the mainstream of his art.No fool I. But it was this Road and Trees I keptcircling back to. It was not yet two-years-old,and had a scrubbed and unabashed — evenraw — look. It seemed oddly thin and nearlywithout consequence, like a cartoon. Com-paring it at that time to the great Second StorySunlight of 1960 (oh, just down this hall, andone room over!), Road and Trees looked oddlycurdled and dissonant and slightly sour andsomewhat empty. Missing were the Hopperregulars, his usual stalwarts — the totemic,stunned people; the white clapboard façadecut on the bias by that Hopper sunlight; thehard-won balance wherein a highway or a massof trees might just play a supporting role in thedrama.Usually the Hopper road served to takeus in, by diagonal, to the upstage action. Typ-ically Hopper trees gave distance and space tosome scene,which might otherwise atrophy, ofunbudging, too-solid, airless, rhetoric.Weren’this trees his great aerating device? His sparinglyapplied grace notes of poetry?

In 1962, the year of Road and Trees, Hopperwas 80-years-old.One or two new pictures sur-faced each year. To find a subject for big workhad become very difficult and to paint at all wasphysically challenging.Hewould create just fivemore pictures before his death in May 1967.

Road and Trees is almost three feet high anda full five feet in length. In its shallow space, anarrow road and trees run together across thewhole canvas. Seen straight on,without begin-ning or end visible, it seems Hopper has cho-sen a segment of a whole running frieze as hissubject to paint. Perhaps this is the middle ofthe flow. There is no defining incident to focuson.Along this continuum,he will paint exactlyhere. Why here? Why are we here?

It has been, of course, a great joy to puzzleover Road and Trees these now 35 years. I oncedid ask the most evolved painter I ever knew,Warren Hohrer, why this painting wouldn’tresolve, come clean, settle down. His thoughtwas that whatever question Hopper paintedRoad and Trees to answer, he left there at thefinish. Warren said, “He didn’t paint out thequestion.”So, one could sayHopper poses somequestion, and it is still hovering, unanswered,in this very moment, in his Road and Trees. Itis right down there, or here, somewhere, evennow causing a stir. The question, it wouldappear, is smack-dab everywhere along thisplace where Hopper took a fancy to paint ano-name location, which contains an ever-extending view.

Adrienne Ruger Conzelman ’92HAVING BEEN RAISED by art and antiquesenthusiasts and having been exposed to mygrandparents’ esteemed collection of paint-ings, I developed a taste for and a keen inter-est in American art at a young age. I enrolledat Hamilton with the unusual insight of know-ing what I wanted to study — not just vaguely,but exactly. After majoring in art history atHamilton, I earned a master’s degree in art his-tory with a specialization in American art atWilliams and then worked as a specialist inAmerican paintings at Christie’s.

Despite the profound loss of my belovedgrandmother, who incidentally also served asan inspirational mentor, I was delighted toreceive this Alfred Thompson Bricher paint-ing, which I had so long admired in her South-port, Conn., home.Depicting a quiet summerday on Massachusetts’ south shore, Return ofthe Yacht, Scituate Glades represents a briefinterest of Bricher in incorporating figuresinto his otherwise undisturbed seascapes.Quintessentially Victorian, the painting now

proudly hangs in my New York City apart-ment opposite a Capri scene by Charles CarylColeman.

Until last year,my interest in art was mainlyrestricted to the 19th century, despite a secretpassion for Rothko, Diebenkorn, Franken-thaler and others of their ilk. Perhaps my par-ents’ and grandparents’ tastes hindered me insome way from pursuing the more avant-gardeaesthetics of post-war art. While at HamiltonI did explore the theories behind WyndhamLewis’Vorticism and the sexual innuendoes ofGeorgia O’Keeffe’s calla lilies; however, I didnot delve any further into the 20th century.Thinking back, I doubt that a course on post-war art was offered, but even if there was, Idare say I would have skipped it and pursuedthe more time-tested subjects of Greek andRoman art, Islamic art,Neoclassicism,Roman-ticism and Impressionism.

Now with two small children and a third onthe way, my preferences in art run toward theminimal and the simplified, representing per-haps a quest for peace and quiet in an other-wise chaotic world. I have long dreamed ofRothkos and Frankenthalers, and now as anadult with endless responsibilities and con-cerns, those color-field abstractions are evenmore appealing. As the still-growing popu-larity of these stars of the 20th century drivestheir values skyward, I have turned my atten-tion to the lesser-known artists working dur-ing the ’50s, ’60s and ’70s and the youngemerging artists beginning to gain some atten-tion in NewYork today.A pleasant surprise hasbeen the compatibility resulting from the sub-ject matter and palette of my cherished Bricherwith those of the more contemporary worksin my collection.

ALFRED THOMPSON BRICHER (1837-1908), The Return of the Yacht, Scituate Glades, 1879, oil on canvas,

17 1/2 x 38 1/2 in., Collection Adrienne Ruger Conzelman

ADRIENNE RUGER CONZELMAN

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others, but it was only in the last few years thatmy wife and I have been active collectors.

While my parents were not collectors, theyenjoyed art and encouraged my interest. Myaunt was very interested in art, and her fatherwas one of the founders of the Albright-KnoxMuseum in Buffalo, and my cousin is an activeboard member there today.While I was influ-enced by my cousin and my aunt, Paul Parkerand James Penney were the most powerfulinfluences on the development of my inter-est in art.

Over the years, my wife and I have enjoyedthe museums in New York where we liveincluding The Metropolitan Museum of Art,The Museum of Modern Art and the Whit-ney Museum of American Art. The museumsof Paris, particularly the Musée d’Orsay andthe Musée national des Arts Asiatiques-Guimet, are familiar haunts, as is the Museodel Prado in Madrid. The Munson-Williams-Proctor Arts Institute in Utica, N.Y., was animportant part of my education when I wasan undergraduate.

Mywife and I have somewhat different tastes.She prefers figurative art,which I enjoy, but sheis less enthusiastic about the more abstractworks that are attractive to me. We have com-promised on someworks byMarin,StuartDavisand Max Weber that appeal to both of us.

We collect because we enjoy having art inour home for our pleasure and for our fam-ily and friends. We are happy to lend our artfor museum shows, and the Winslow Homerwatercolor, How Many Eggs?, in this exhibi-tion has just returned from a year-long Homer

WINSLOW HOMER (1836-1910), How Many Eggs?,1873, watercolor, 12 1/2 x 9 1/2 in., Collection Karen A.

and Kevin W. Kennedy

CHARLES BURCHFIELD (1893-1967), Dandelion Seed Heads and the Moon, (1961), 1965, watercolor,

54 3/4 x 38 1/2 in., Collection Karen A. and Kevin W. KennedyKEVIN AND KAREN KENNEDY

Louise A. and J.WilliamHolland ’59

DURING THE 1930S Norman Rockwell livedin New Rochelle, N.Y., and was a customer atmy father’s drug store, the Beechmont Phar-macy. My father and Rockwell became friends,and Dad would, from time to time, providehim with props for his paintings.

One in particular that I remember was hispharmacy license, some test tubes, beakers andflasks that appeared on a Post cover in 1939involving a rather rumpled pharmacist com-pounding some syrup for a little girl. Rock-well had said he would give the pharmacistpainting to my Dad, but it was either destroyedin a studio fire or asked for by one of the peo-ple at Curtis Publishing. Norman felt badlyabout this and resolved to give my father theBarbershop Quartet which he said was a bet-ter painting since it contained four and nottwo figures.

I remember him visiting our house to deliverthe painting and explaining some of its com-position to my parents. He said that render-ing hands is a most difficult task. The detail isquite extraordinary including items one mightsay are throw-aways, such as the cloth on thefloor, the cracked shoes and the comb withmissing teeth, the diagonal line from the upperright brush to the lower left razor handle andthe extensive use of triangles in spaces betweenthe figures.

My dad tells me that the short fellow on theleft was actually a barber in New Rochelle. Thetaller figure next to him was a policeman; thethird, a fireman; and the seated man, an artistfriend of Rockwell’s named Walter BeechHumphries, who later painted a portrait ofmy mother.

Rockwell has been criticizedby many art critics as beingnothing but an illustrator whoproducedwork solely for repro-duction. It is,of course, true thatmuch of hiswork is illustration,but much of it is also art. Oneproponent of Rockwell has sug-gested that with his work“whatyou see iswhat you get.”His pic-tures tell a story which requiresno interpretation or intermedi-ation, so the art critic is notneeded,and therefore, theyden-igrate him for all the good tradeunion reasons. I subscribe to thislater theory. The painting is, I

feel, an allegory for harmony and hangs in thedining room of our house, a room where, wefeel, harmony is important.

Karen A. and KevinW.Kennedy ’70

I DEVELOPEDAN INTEREST in art as an under-graduate at Hamilton. Recognizing the limi-tations of my artistic aptitude and abilities,choosing art as a major was one of the greatprivileges of a liberal arts education. I studiedstudio art with James Penney and art historywith Paul Parker. Through Paul Parker, I wasexposed toAmerican artists like Homer,Marin,Burchfield,Hartley,Glackens and Shinn.Aftercollege while working on Wall Street, I main-tained my interest in these artists and many

NORMAN ROCKWELL (1894-1978), Barbershop Quartet, 1936, oil on canvas, 36 x 27 in., Collection Mr. and Mrs. J.

William Holland

BILL AND LOUISE HOLLAND

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Their library boasted the great illustratedworksof Rouault,Derain and Shahn, and the hallwaysand staircases were lined with the sculpture ofRenoir, Degas and Matisse.

As a family the Bakwins traveled to Europeevery summer visiting and talking to the livingartists they collected, as well as the major col-lectors, dealers and scholars. In time their chil-dren came to understand that themain purposeof collecting was to acquire beautiful items todecorate the home and to achieve an under-standing of what the artist had intended toimpart with his work. This was a philosophyvery different from that of many of the well-known collectors of the time who seeminglycollected only with an eye for fame, marketvalue and popularity.

Pat purchased her first painting at the ageof 18, a Vlaminck, when her family was vis-iting that artist’s studio. Later when we mar-ried we started collecting together: our firstjoint selection was a small Renoir oil, Headof Gabriel. It is still our favorite painting.After that, while living in Europe in the late’50s and early ’60s, we started buying worksby the then-popular “School of Paris” —Jansem, Minaux, Aispiri and the like. Uponour return to America we added more paint-ings by some of our personal friends,Don Niceand Xavier De Calletay, but did not beginconsciously collecting Americans as such untilthe early 1990s.

This shift was influenced by our other col-lection, the musical instruments, books, prints

and paintings related to early American cul-ture. Now we have more than 40 Americanpaintings and drawings ranging from thoseof leading professional painters like CharlesBird King and John Vanderlyn, to works bythe naïve folk artists Joseph Whiting Stockand Ammi Phillips. Most of these are housedin an 1802 Georgian-Palladian mansion inSharon Springs, N.Y., that we have recentlyrestored to its original Federal splendor. Butthere are still more in our New York house.

Our enthusiasm goes on and on. Our questfor American art, antiques and books in thelast decade has drastically reinvigorated ourinterest in collecting in general and added toour knowledge and interest in American cul-ture and history.

THOMAS SULLY (1783-1872), The Misses Coleman, 1844, oil on canvas, 28 1/4 x 35 1/4 in., Collection Patricia Bakwin and Frederick Richard Selch

retrospective that began in Kansas City andtraveled to Los Angeles and Atlanta. It is verysatisfying to share some of our paintings withthe Hamilton community and to participate inthis exhibition with other members of theHamilton family.

Keith S.Wellin ’50

I’VE NEVER CONSIDERED MYSELF to be a col-lector. I simply buy a painting when I see onethat I like. I don’t haunt galleries, but I do walkaround galleries when I am in New York, andif something catches my eye, I buy it.

TheartworkIowniseclectic.Amongthepaint-ings I own, Segovia Girl is the only painting thatI did not purchase. I inherited the painting frommy father, who was a great admirer of RobertHenri. He loved the painting. My father workedhisway through schoolby sketching,althoughhedid not pursue art professionally after gradua-tion. Segovia Girl hangs over the fireplace in myapartment inNewYork andhas always been veryspecial to me.

Patricia Bakwin andFrederick Richard Selch P’79,88

AMONG THE MANY HAPPY DISCOVERIES thatPat and Imadewhenwemarriednearly 50 yearsago was that we both liked gardening and chil-dren. Another was that we both liked to collect.Frankly, our shared love of collecting was in ourblood, since both our families collected actively.However, the type of collecting of the two fam-ilies was very different.

As a son of the Reverend Grant Selch ’28,widely known as “the puppeteering parson,” Iwas exposed to a style of collecting connectedprimarily to his activities as a latter-dayGeppetto and producer of amateur theatricals.Our house was filled with every kind of col-lectable thing in the world, and everything weever brought there was intended to be used asa prop, a stage decoration or a costume foreither his human or his doll players. But to himI guess I owe my more controlled habit of col-lecting the materials — musical instruments,books and prints — related to my obsessivestudy of music history.

Pat’s parentswere prominentNewYork pedi-atricians and collected famously the paintings,sculpture and art books of the French Impres-sionists and Post-Impressionists. Their publicrooms were filled with eye-boggling canvasesbyCézanne,VanGogh,Modigliani and the like. PAT BAKWIN AND ERIC SELCH

ROBERT HENRI (1865-1929), Segovia Girl, 1912, oil on canvas, 20 x 24 in., Collection Keith S. Wellin

KEITH WELLIN