A PLACE IN THE SUN

The Southwest Paintings of Walter Ufer and E. Martin Hennings

Edited by THOMAS BRENT SMITH
A PLACE IN THE SUN

THE CHARLES M. RUSSELL CENTER SERIES

ON ART AND PHOTOGRAPHY OF THE AMERICAN WEST

B. BYRON PRICE, General Editor

A PLACE IN THE SUN
The Southwest Paintings of Walter Ufer and E. Martin Hennings

Edited by THOMAS BRENT SMITH

Foreword by CHRISTOPH HEINRICH

With Contributions by SUSANNE BOELLER, PETER H. HASSRICK,

KAREN BROOKS McWHORTER, JAMES C. MOORE,
DEAN A. PORTER, and CATHERINE WHITNEY

UNIVERSITY OF OKLAHOMA : NORMAN

In cooperation with the DENVER ART MUSEUM

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

A place in the sun : the Southwest paintings of Walter Ufer and E. Martin Hennings /
Edited by Thomas Brent Smith ; Foreword by Christoph Heinrich.
p
 ages cm. — (The Charles M. Russell Center series on art and photography of the American West ; v. 21)
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-0-8061-5198-4 (hardcover : alk. paper)
1. Ufer, Walter, 1876–1936—Criticism and interpretation. 2. Hennings, E. Martin, 1886–1956—Criticism and
interpretation. 3. Art and society—New Mexico—Taos—History—20th century. 4. Southwest, New—In art.
I. Smith, Thomas Brent, editor. II. Heinrich, Christoph, writer of foreword.
ND237.U37P59 2015
759.73—dc23
2015017860 The following works
appear uncaptioned on
the pages noted:
A Place in the Sun: The Southwest Paintings of Walter Ufer and E. Martin Hennings is
Volume 21 in The Charles M. Russell Center Series on Art and Photography of the American West. Page ii:
(Detail) Walter Ufer,
Taos Plaza, New Mexico, 1917.
The paper in this book meets the guidelines for permanence and durability of the Committee on Production
(See figure 3.12, page 59)
Guidelines for Book Longevity of the Council on Library Resources, Inc. ∞

Page v:
Copyright © 2016 by the Denver Art Museum. Manufactured in Canada. (Detail) E. Martin Hennings,
A Friendly Encounter, ca. 1922.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in (See figure 5.08, page 101)
any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—except as permitted
under Section 107 or 108 of the United States Copyright Act—without the prior written permission of the University Page vi:
of Oklahoma Press. To request permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to Permissions, (Detail) E. Martin Hennings,
University of Oklahoma Press, 2800 Venture Drive, Norman, OK 73069, or email rights.oupress@ou.edu. The Rendezvous, ca. 1925.
(See figure 5.27, page 118)

1 2 3  4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Dedicated to Henry Roath
✜ ✜ ✜
CONTENTS

Foreword, CHRISTOPH HEINRICH  ix

A Note to the Reader  xi

Introduction, THOMAS BRENT SMITH  3

1
  T WO AMERICAN PAINTERS IN MUNICH
Walter Ufer and E. Martin Hennings, SUSANNE BOELLER  7

2
  A BIOGRAPHY OF WALTER UFER
DEAN A. PORTER  27

3
  WALTER UFER’S YEARS OF CRITICAL SUCCESS
A Painter Characterized by His Time and Place, THOMAS BRENT SMITH  47

4
  THE COUNTRY HE LOVED BEST
A Biography of E. Martin Hennings, KAREN BROOKS McWHORTER  77

5
  TAOS AND THE ART OF E. MARTIN HENNINGS
PETER H. HASSRICK  93

6
  GLIMPSING MODERNITY
Images of Labor, Passage, and Change, CATHERINE WHITNEY  125

7
  THAT MAN OUT THERE IN THE MOUNTAINS
Ufer, Hennings, and the Conflicted Allure of Taos, JAMES C. MOORE  143

Acknowledgments  169

Selected Bibliography  173

Image Credits  181

Index  183

(Detail)
E. Martin Hennings,
A Friendly Encounter,
ca. 1922. (See figure 5.08,
page 101)
FOREWORD
Christoph Heinrich
Frederick and Jan Mayer Director, Denver Art Museum
Taos, New Mexico, is as charming a place as
any in the American West. More than a century
ago, the small community attracted scores of
artists with its Native American and Hispanic
communities and scenic landscapes bathed in
brilliant sunlight. Among the talents who came
to Taos were painters Walter Ufer and E. Martin
Hennings. A Place in the Sun: The Southwest
Paintings of Walter Ufer and E. Martin Hennings
examines how these artists adapted the
principles of their academic training in Munich,
Germany, to the subjects of the American
Southwest in hope of creating a distinctive
American art. Their paintings were well received
in art centers in the East, Midwest, and beyond,
and as a result, the artists climbed the ranks
of the then-greatest contemporary American
painters, winning top honors at the nation’s most
prestigious juried exhibitions. Today, sadly, they
are mostly known only to audiences well versed
in western American art. This exhibition aims to
rectify this situation and place the artists back in
the spotlight.
A Place in the Sun continues Denver’s
long-standing connection to the Taos art
scene. Denver has played a surprising role
in the careers and remembrance of these
painters. It was in Denver that the artists Ernest
Blumenschein and Bert Phillips gathered supplies
and departed on their fabled first visit to Taos
in 1898. A serendipitous breakdown of their
wagon would lead to the development of an
art colony. Later, as the Taos Society of Artists
organized exhibitions that traveled throughout
IX
the nation, Denver was a host city. In 1918, the
Taos group of artists exhibited with the Denver
Art Association (precursor to the Denver Art
Museum) in its annual exhibition.
One of the first and most important
exhibitions to reexamine the artists who settled
in New Mexico after the turn of the twentieth
century was held at the Denver Art Museum in
1974. Organized by then-curator of American
art Pat Trenton, Picturesque Images of Taos
and Santa Fe was an impressive selection of
paintings gathered from across the country.
Likewise, the Denver Art Museum was a venue
for the 1987 exhibition Art in New Mexico,
1900–1945: Paths to Taos and Santa Fe. More
recently, in 2009 the exhibition In Contemporary
Rhythm: The Art of Ernest L. Blumenschein
provided a retrospective view of a founding
member of the famed Taos art colony.
During the 1980s, the museum acquired
its first works by Walter Ufer and E. Martin
Hennings. Not until 2001, however, with the
monumental gift from William, Sr., and Dorothy
Harmsen, did the museum hold a significant
group of works by painters working in New
Mexico. In 2011, Denver resident and collector
Henry Roath gifted his remarkable collection of
western American art to the museum. Roath’s
affinity for the artists who settled in Taos—he
collected major canvases by most of the colony’s
members—was central to this gift, which
transformed the western American art collection
of the Denver Art Museum. A year later, the
museum further expanded its holdings of these
 now sought-after painters by acquiring the Dr.
George C. and Catherine M. Peck collection.
Through generous donors and keen collecting,
the quality of masterworks by Taos artists in the
museum’s holdings is today as good as that of
any art museum and a strength of the western
American collection.
We thank Thomas Brent Smith, curator
of western American art and director of the
Petrie Institute of Western American Art, for
enthusiastically building on the transformation of
the collection with this exhibition. The exhibition
and accompanying publication are the result of
his vision and sound belief that both Ufer and
Hennings deserve reexamination. The publication
has been enhanced by the fresh perspectives
of additional authors Susanne Boeller, Peter H.
Hassrick, Karen Brooks McWhorter, James C.
X FOREWORD
Moore, Dean A. Porter, and Catherine Whitney.
We are pleased to share this exhibition with
Philbrook Museum of Art. Thanks go to its
director and president Randall Suffolk and chief
curator and curator of American art Catherine
Whitney, under whose able stewardship this
beautiful exhibition will be shown in Tulsa,
Oklahoma.
Sincere gratitude is owed to our lenders as
well as to our generous donors. We wish to thank
the James J. Volker Family Trust, Mary and Gary
Buntmann, Carolyn and Robert Barnett, Joan
and Robert Troccoli, the generous supporters
of the Petrie Institute of Western American Art
endowment campaign, and as always, the donors
to the Annual Fund Leadership Campaign and the
citizens who support the Scientific and Cultural
Facilities District (SCFD).
A NOTE TO THE READER
The titles and dates for the paintings by Walter
Ufer included in this book are consistent with the
sales records found in his papers up to 1923, when
extant, with exception of the following works:
The Battery—Union Station is titled Union
Square, New York in Ufer’s sales records but
has been known by the former title since
being donated to the Snite Museum.
A Daughter of San Juan Pueblo has appeared by
this title since it was exhibited at the Panama
Pacific International Exhibition in 1915 and
therefore it retains this title in the publication.
Ufer titled the work San Juan Girl in his sales
records.
The painting The Fiddler of Taos first appeared
as such in its first exhibition and has been
known by the title since. In his sales records,
Ufer titled the work The Taos Fiddler.
Taos Plaza, New Mexico is clearly titled Plaza
de Taos in Ufer’s sales records. The date for
Taos Plaza, New Mexico is also unresolved
because two separate sales records appear
with the same title and dimensions, once in
1916 and again in 1917. In addition, they are
recorded as having been sold to different
parties suggesting there were indeed two
paintings of identical size and title painted in
consecutive years. Further information has
not surfaced as of yet.
XI
Additional works that do not appear in the
sales records or at least do not appear with
the title by which they are known today are
A Discussion, 1926; The Southwest, 1930;
Lonesome Song, ca. 1935–36; Fantasies,
1922; Cornpicker, ca. 1915; and In His Garden,
1922. These paintings’ dates and titles were
established by their respective collections or
through the author’s scholarship in whose essay
the painting appears.
✜
E. Martin Hennings did not generally date his
paintings, thus making it challenging for any
scholar to establish a definitive date for his
works. This conundrum is further compounded
by the loss of most of his original archival
materials. Furthermore, Hennings’s stylistic
evolution is subtle, and dating his works
according to stylistic “period” is almost
impossible. In order to determine the dates of
Hennings’s works included in this book, authors
Peter H. Hassrick and Karen Brooks McWhorter
diligently researched available materials to
determine when paintings first appeared in
exhibition. Dates have been established using
this information—in many cases for the first
time. Some dates are only best estimations
based on available sources and are therefore
preceded by “ca.”
A PLACE IN THE SUN

(Detail)
Walter Ufer, Me and Him,
1918. (See figure 3.15, p. 63)
INTRODUCTION
Thomas Brent Smith
German American artists Walter Ufer (1876–
1936) and E. Martin Hennings (1886–1956)
were among hundreds of foreign students
who attended Munich art academies between
1910 and 1915. Like most American artists of
their era, Ufer and Hennings returned home
determined to foster the development of a
national art. For these painters, this resulted
in works that were beholden to European
styles, yet with subjects and interests uniquely
American. Both artists would ultimately settle in
the New Mexico village of Taos.
Ufer and Hennings met in Chicago during the
first decade of the twentieth century, when each
was trying to find his way as a young aspiring
artist. Chicago was second only to New York
as the reigning city for American art, and its Art
Institute drew artists from across the Midwest
and the mountain West. In the decades
following the Chicago World’s Columbian
Exposition of 1893, the city increased its
reputation as an art and cultural haven in the
center of the country. Hennings was a student
at the Art Institute of Chicago; Ufer studied
there before moving to the J. Francis Smith
School. The painters shared hopes of building
their careers in the spirited art environment of
Chicago but ultimately established themselves in
the American Southwest.
Chicago would, however, remain central
to their development. Searching for an identity
independent of that of New York, the great
metropolis on the eastern seaboard, Chicago
aligned itself with the American West. Chicago
3
was routinely referred to as a western city.
Western subjects were of great interest to
those invested in the city’s cultural identity.
Both artists were sponsored by a syndicate of
wealthy businessmen, who funded their travel
to New Mexico. Organized by Chicago mayor
Carter Harrison, Jr., the syndicate consisted of
the city’s business elite, with some members
from farther afield in the Midwest. The group
was also distinctively, but not solely, of German
descent. Throughout the artists’ careers, Ufer
and Hennings remained connected to Chicago.
They kept studio spaces there, exhibited there
(including at the Art Institute annuals), and
maintained relations with long-standing patrons.
Ufer left Chicago for training in Munich in
1911. The following year he would welcome
Hennings. There both artists began their
studies under the guidance of Walter Thor. As
members of the American Artists Club, the
painters reveled in the inexpensive bohemian
lifestyle the city afforded them. Growing
up with parents whose first language was
German, and their ability to speak the language
themselves, made for an easy assimilation to
the German academic system. Their choice of
Munich rather than the art center of Paris would
ideologically differentiate them from many of
their contemporaries. A fundamental tenet
of their German education was a dedication
to genre and portrait painting; both artists
would bring this focus to their paintings of
everyday life in New Mexico. Ufer’s instructors
in Munich encouraged realism through the
 direct and immediate depiction of subjects,
which the artist achieved in an alla prima
style of painting. Before Ufer left for home
in 1913, he and Hennings, joined by fellow
Chicago artist Albrecht Ullrich, traveled to Paris,
visiting museums and taking measure of the
contemporary art scene. Hennings remained
in Munich until 1914, just before the onset
of World War I. During this time, Hennings
studied under Franz von Stuck, who espoused
the modern movement of Jugendstil, the
German form of art nouveau. This additional
influence goes a long way in explaining the
difference in technique and style between the
artists. Hennings’s incorporation of Jugendstil
principles, with an elegance of line and pictorial
poetry, was perfectly suited for the Taos
landscape, with its aspen trees and bright
foliage.
Ufer first visited New Mexico in 1914. He
found an environment that suited his painting and
subjects that fit his idea of creating a distinctively
American art. Quickly his career began to take
shape; he was winning major awards in Chicago
by 1916. He began spending significant portions
of the year in Taos around 1915, continuing to
extend his time there each year until it eventually
became his home. Ufer became an active
participant in the art colony in Taos and served as
both secretary and president of the now famed
Taos Society of Artists. Hennings, however,
did not visit New Mexico until 1917, and even
then it would be another four years before he
returned. But by 1921 Hennings was aware of
the potential of Taos, and he settled there in
the coming years. In 1924 Hennings became
a member of the Taos Society of Artists, after
fulfilling the requirement of having painted there
a portion of three consecutive years. The formal
aspects of the society would have little impact
on Hennings’s career, however, since the group
disbanded by 1927.
For all of Ufer’s and Hennings’s similarities in
experiences, training, and subjects, they could
not have been more different in personality
4 A PLACE IN THE SUN
and career trajectory. Ufer was a complicated,
mercurial, and outspoken individual who was
determined to find his place among America’s
greatest painters. In contrast, descriptions
of Hennings tell of a meek man dedicated to
quietly evolving his craft. Ufer’s career reached
unprecedented heights between 1916 and 1923,
when he was among the most celebrated artists
of his time, winning major awards in Chicago and
at top institutions in the East. He undermined
his success by his own actions, however,
and after 1923 his work was far less than its
former brilliant self. As Ufer’s career dwindled,
Hennings emerged onto the national scene, his
career gaining momentum as he similarly won
national awards. The steady Hennings continued
to produce quality work for decades after his
friend Ufer’s death in 1936.
The artists’ careers and lives in Taos
coincide with monumental changes in American
society and major world events. In America,
industrialization affected every part of society
as the country moved from a primarily agrarian
economy to the production of automobiles on
an assembly line. Ufer’s first visit to Taos in
1914 coincided with the outbreak of World War I
in Europe, and his career peaked as America
entered the war in 1917. Hennings’s career
continued through the Great Depression and
the close of World War II. The years 1914 to
1945 were particularly challenging for artists
of German descent who chose Munich for
their training but were dedicated to creating
an American art. Dodging the prejudice would
have been easier for Hennings, as his name was
less identifiably German than Ufer’s. Both men
escaped the worst of the scrutiny, however, by
choosing subjects of the American West and
earning a reputation as western artists.
It is in this context that A Place in the Sun
begins to consider the careers and work of Walter
Ufer and E. Martin Hennings. The publication’s
opening essay by Susanne Boeller sets the
stage with the artists’ student experiences in
Munich. A Munich-based scholar, Boeller has
long studied American artists who trained in the
Munich academies. Her insights reveal previously
unknown aspects of Ufer’s and Hennings’s
experiences, in particular how their work was
influenced by the German artists Walter Thor,
Angelo Jank, and Franz von Stuck. Dean A. Porter,
who has spent decades compiling much of the
original source material on Walter Ufer, has crafted
a biography of the artist that goes in depth into the
successes and ultimate demise of the artist—a
sad yet redemptive narrative. Thomas Brent Smith
considers the artistic merit of Ufer’s greatest
accomplishments during his years of critical
success and places the painter within the context
of his time and his contemporaries in American
art. Karen Brooks McWhorter’s biographical essay
on Hennings sketches the artist’s life and career
and gives substantial form to the quiet life of this
humble man. Peter H. Hassrick examines the
painter’s greatest artistic endeavors in the first
text to consider Hennings’s artistic development
and ideologies. Catherine Whitney contextualizes
the artists’ less obvious but essential exploration
of modernity, considering aspects of modern life
in remote New Mexico. Finally, in an essay that
only someone who is sensitive to the complexities
of New Mexico could have composed, James C.
Moore discusses the unique environment of Taos
and how its diverse community intimately affected
the artists’ ideals and paintings.
INTRODUCTION 5
 1 TWO AMERICAN PAINTERS IN MUNICH
Walter Ufer and E. Martin Hennings
Susanne Boeller
On December 18, 1912, E. Martin Hennings
registered with the Munich police—as was
required by law of every foreigner on a prolonged
visit. Hennings stated that he was a Kunstmaler
(an artist painter), hailed from Chicago, had
arrived the day before, had found lodgings on
Schellingstraße 78, and intended to stay in
Munich for one year.1 There he would join other
American artists, including fellow Chicagoan
Walter Ufer, who had been studying in Munich
since 1911.
Just a few days before Hennings’s arrival,
the Bavarian prince regent Luitpold had died
on December 12, 1912, at age ninety-one.
The overwhelming public reaction indicated
awareness that an era was coming to an end.
Luitpold had assumed state affairs in 1886, when
his nephew Ludwig II was declared insane for
both his costly architectural extravagances and
his lack of interest in governing his Bavarian
subjects. Luitpold’s long reign was a reassuring
tie to tradition as Munich entered the twentieth
century. Although the city had been modernized
extensively, its old-fashioned picturesque quality
had been preserved, not least for the benefit
of tourism, long since a major economic factor
along with beer consumption and the art market.
The “art city,” as Munich had called
itself since the days of Ludwig I, in the early
nineteenth century, featured extensive art
collections, a profitable art market supported
(Detail) by regular large exhibitions, a network of art
American Artists Club
members, 1913. Photograph.
galleries, and publishers of art reproductions
(See figure 1.25, p. 22) and art literature. The Royal Bavarian Academy
7
of Fine Arts, once the center of art education
and taste making, had not been able to maintain
this leading role, but it remained a fertile training
ground. Many of its numerous graduates had
established alternative teaching institutions.2
When Ufer and Hennings arrived in
Munich, they found a rich mixture of long-time
conservative trends and emerging modern
movements. This short study examines how
their previous artistic conditioning and their
ambitions determined their choices of teachers
and role models, what styles and techniques
they assimilated into their approaches, and
what they rejected as unsuitable to their own
perspectives.
THE MUNICH MEN AND CHICAGO
Munich and its Academy of Fine Arts had
attracted American students since the late
1860s, when the need for solid art education
was felt acutely, and adequate options in the
United States were still few or altogether
lacking.3 The Bavarian art city, then experiencing
a surge of artistic innovation and expansion,
had offered to art students a more affordable,
accessible, and manageable alternative to Paris.
From the 1870s to the mid-1880s, Americans
formed one of the largest foreign student groups,
along with Hungarians, Russians, and Poles.
The Academy and its professors welcomed
these students, whose presence emphasized
the institution’s international ranking and sphere
of influence. American graduates of the 1870s
 and 1880s became instrumental in establishing
art education and opening up possibilities for
exhibition in many parts of the United States;
others turned into long-term or permanent
residents of Munich and served as teachers
and advisers to younger students. Their works
marked the transition into an era of versatile
figure painting that would rival European
counterparts.
Munich’s attraction for American students
waned after the mid-1880s, as Paris became
the uncontested artistic mecca. In the 1910s,
Munich was no longer as fashionable with most
American art students. Whereas in the heyday
of the movement, up to forty American students
attended the Academy each semester, by the
1910s their numbers had dwindled to as few as
three.4 Surprisingly, Chicagoans featured rather
prominently among these few students. Of the
twenty-four Americans who signed up at the
Munich Academy between 1910 and 1914, at
least seven came from Chicago. Yet the city did 1.01
not have a history of artistic allegiance to Munich, painting, largely failed to register. The Munich Franz von Stuck, Salome,
as did New York, for instance, which accounted Men who established themselves in Chicago 1906. Canvas in original
frame; 45.08 × 36.22 in.
for the largest share of students, or smaller cities as independent artists or teachers practiced (114.5 × 92 cm). Städtische
such as Cleveland, Indianapolis, or Cincinnati, styles that were not associated with Munich; Galerie im Lenbachhaus and
Kunstbau, Munich (G 14260),
where the Munich Men, as critics had called instead, they conformed to the preferences acquired from private ownership
them since the 1870s, played important roles for French academic art, which emphasized a with funds from the Bayerische
Vereinsbank Munich, now
in the local art scenes. In Chicago, the Munich classical ideal in figure painting, and from the
UniCreditBank AG, for the 100th
Men were fewer, and if they became influential, 1890s, Chicago artists increasingly adopted an anniversary
such as Frederick Freer, Oliver Dennett Grover, impressionist manner and a brighter palette.
Charles Corwin, Wellington Reynolds, or Frederic They also practiced related trades as muralists,
Bartlett, their work was not identified with the set designers, or panorama painters.5
Munich school or style. They practiced styles In Chicago after the turn of the century, the
they had assimilated elsewhere or in Munich but attractions of French academic art faded with
at a later time, following trends largely unfamiliar the growing interest in other European trends. A
to the American public. The Munich school more positive attitude toward German art set in
continued to be associated with the art exhibited as the generation born to the influx of immigrants
to great acclaim in the 1870s by Americans who in the 1890s established itself. Wealthy ethnic
had studied in Munich: paintings characterized by Germans were collecting art, and the visibility
versatile brushwork and dark bitumen, featuring of contemporary German art increased and was
starkly realistic subjects. The fact that the well received. To mention one instance that
Munich school had since developed other styles would have been important to Hennings as a
and interests, that its protagonists practiced young art student at the Art Institute of Chicago,
plein air, naturalist, symbolist, and impressionist German American businessman and art collector

8 A PLACE IN THE SUN

 Fritz von Frantzius put Salome and The Dancer
Saharet by Franz von Stuck on permanent loan to
the Art Institute during those years.6 Stuck would
eventually become one of Hennings’s teachers in
Munich.
Several high-profile exhibitions opened at
the Art Institute in the early decades of the
twentieth century: the Exhibition of Contemporary
German Paintings in 1907 and the Exhibition
of Contemporary German Art, organized by
the German government, in 1909, as well as
more specialized overviews of German Applied
Art and Modern German Posters in 1912.7 In
summer 1914, a committee on behalf of the Art
Institute planned to secure works from current
exhibitions in Germany for yet another display,
because contemporary art had “found such
favor in Chicago.”8 Young aspiring artists had the
opportunity not only to study the latest trends
in German art but also to visualize the potential
Munich might offer for their own artistic growth.
The idea of studying in Germany was
especially appealing to ethnic Germans. Ethnicity
always carried weight in students’ decisions to
1.02
E. Martin Hennings,
Morning, ca. 1912.
Oil on canvas; 30 × 45 in.
(76.2 × 114.3 cm). New Mexico
Museum of Art, gift of Mrs. E. Martin
Hennings, 1979 (1979.63.2)
go to Munich. In the 1870s and 1880s, ethnic
Germans in Chicago about equaled in number
those with other backgrounds, but as of the
1890s, their share had grown. Of the seven
Chicagoans who applied to the Academy of Fine
Arts in Munich from 1910 to 1914, at least five—
including Hennings—bore obviously German
family names.9 Ufer and Hennings both grew up
in German immigrant families.
In Chicago both artists received artistic
training that emulated the French example.
At the School of the Art Institute, the French
example had been firmly established since
the 1890s by John H. Vanderpoel, its most
influential instructor, himself a student of
Gustave Boulanger and Jules Joseph Lefebvre
in Paris.10 Private schools followed suit. At the
Art Academy, run by J. Francis Smith, Walter
Ufer, prior to his departure for Munich, made
drawings from life in the classical French vein.11
Both Ufer and Hennings were accomplished
professionals in commercial arts, seeking to
enter a career in fine arts; however, neither of
them trusted that any school in Chicago would
TWO AMERICAN PAINTERS IN MUNICH 9
 enable him to take that step. Ufer declared his
frustration over his stalling advancement at J.
Francis Smith’s Art Academy, where he believed
he was already one of the best students.12 As an
alternative, Ufer, who had previously studied in
Germany at an applied arts school in Hamburg
and at the Royal Academy in Dresden, decided
to open up a studio and pursue the study of art
in Munich.13
Hennings had tried to get a ticket to Europe
through the Prix de Rome competition at the Art
Institute. When he failed, he did not go to Paris
or Rome but to Munich. His ambitious entry
Morning demonstrates his excellent command
of the human figure but also displays a labored
if not coarse take on a French model that dated
back to the 1890s. Compared to this, the style
of Franz von Stuck’s sultry ladies in the Art
Institute of Chicago galleries must have seemed
a tempting way out. Munich as a place of study
promised a valid alternative on which to build
success. It seemed different, interesting, and at
the same time not too frightfully modern.14
WALTER UFER—
CITY AND COUNTRY
Ufer arrived in Munich in July 1911, meeting
up with his wife, Mary Monrad Frederiksen, a
Danish art student he had married in Chicago.
Despite his scarcity of funds, he hoped to
stay long enough to build a reputation.15 Like
generations of students before him, he found
that U.S. dollars went far in Munich. So Ufer
and his wife lived in comfort: Bertram Hartman,
a younger Academy student from Kansas, who
was staying at the famous bohemian Pension
Führmann, wrote home about Ufer’s formidable
yet cheap accommodations, a “huge apartment
with studio, maid’s room and balconies [that]
cost him and his wife just seventy marks.”16
Ufer attended the private school of
Walter Thor. At thirty-five, Ufer would have
been too old for the Munich Academy, and
he probably preferred a private school for its
10 A PLACE IN THE SUN
greater freedom.17 If we assume that his wife,
Mary, studied painting in Munich too, a private
school would have been inevitable.18 Thor’s
establishment accepted female students,19
whereas the Munich Academy did not admit
women until after World War I.20
For twenty-five years, Walter Thor (1870–
1929) ran his reputable drawing and painting
school in the Schwabing borough, where the
private schools had settled in the vicinity of the
Munich Academy and where most art students
lived.21 Thor had studied at the Academy (1889–
1896), drawing with Nikolaus Gysis and painting
with Franz Defregger. Defregger had been an
especially conservative choice. He was among
the oldest instructors and a representative of
the still lucrative but outdated Tyrolean peasant
genre. Thor would build his career on peasant
heads and portraits.22 An active member of the
artistic community, he was a founding member
of the Luitpold-Gruppe (1896) and later of its
spin-off, Der Bund (1912), through which he
organized and contributed to many exhibitions.23
Official recognition set in after 1900, with several
medals awarded at international exhibitions,
1.03
Walter Thor, Self-
portrait, 1906. Oil on wood;
22.05 × 16.77 in.
(56 × 42.6 cm). Neue Pinakothek
(Inv. No. 8419), Bayerische
Staatsgemaeldesammlungen, Munich
1.04
Walter Ufer, Figure
Drawing, 1913. Charcoal
on paper; 46.75 × 29 in.
(118.74 × 73.66 cm).
The Owings Gallery, Santa Fe,
New Mexico

1.05
Walter Ufer, Figure
Drawing, 1912. Charcoal
on paper; 39 × 23.625 in.
(99.66 × 59.99 cm). The Owings
Gallery, Santa Fe, New Mexico

11

 works purchased by the Bavarian State for the
Neue Pinakothek, and the title Royal Professor
conferred in 1913.24
During the winter and spring semesters the
students in Thor’s school studied the figure.
From July to September, the professor would
take them to the countryside to paint landscapes
and rural subjects. In the city studio, students—
depending on their abilities and preferences—
could either draw in charcoal or paint after the
live model. Alternately, a head model was posed
for one week and a nude for one or two weeks.
Thor would come around to correct once a week,
occasionally demonstrating his great versatility
with the brush.25
Thor’s work was associated with Wilhelm
Leibl’s, even though his portraits tended to be
idealized likenesses and a far cry from Leibl’s
striving for realistic objectivity.26 Similar to Leibl,
though, Thor was an exacting technician, also
practicing alla prima, or wet-on-wet, painting,
which requires straightforward application of paint
and does not allow corrections or overpainting.
The tale of the severe teacher scraping away a
student’s painting and challenging him to repeat
the feat was an oft-repeated story in Munich
during those years. A student of Thor’s in 1912
told it too, and Ufer claimed to have been that
victim.27 The story’s ubiquitousness attests
to the exacting principles governing alla prima
painting. As in many schools of its kind, mastering
technique was the prime goal at Thor’s. Some
students were dissatisfied with this exclusive
focus; they felt that the conceptual side of art
was being neglected.28 Ufer seems to have
thrived in this environment. He vigorously applied
himself to the models before him, drawing large
numbers of nudes and completely turning around 1.06
Walter Thor, Portrait of
his former approach. While in Chicago, he had the Artist’s Son in the
carefully configured ideal bodies in imitation of Studio, ca. 1910. Oil on
canvas; 57.68 × 37.6 in.
marble statues, often choosing a vantage point
(146.5 × 95.5 cm).
from below his models, adding further to their Städtische Galerie Rosenheim
monumental detachment. In Munich he carved
out in strong lines the athletic bodies of male
models and full-figured females, facing them

12 A PLACE IN THE SUN

head on. Often he now set the figure in dynamic
relation to the surrounding space.
In summer 1912 Ufer followed Thor to the
Leutaschtal, a valley in northern Tirol near the
Wettersteinmassiv.29 The students painted
old farms or character heads à la Defregger.
Occasionally they were gathered for correction
time. Ufer created Tyrolean Woman, in a
30
heightened plein air palette, experimenting with
his teacher’s technique. Thor had started out
31
with a smooth, even paint application but over
the years developed remarkable, idiosyncratic
brush handling, building up facial features from
little squares of carefully graded color and
enlarging these squares to patches of rounded
strokes in clothes and backgrounds (see figure
1.06). In Ufer’s painting of the old woman (figure
1.07
Walter Ufer, Tyrolean
Woman—Plein Air, 1912.
Oil on canvas; 21.5 × 17.75 in.
(54.61 × 45.085 cm).
Collection of Mike Abraham
1.07), he sums up the green background and the
grey dress in ways that clearly emulate Thor’s
treatment. The face is expertly built of interlacing
planes of flesh tints that shape a ruddy
physiognomy under bright sunlight. Ufer was
happy with the progress he was making. Hugo
Helmrichs, apparently a good friend in Munich,
himself a drawing teacher, wrote to Ufer and
Mary in early October 1912, congratulating him
on “getting along so well with his art,” no doubt
responding to Ufer’s own claim of success.32
The following year, as Ufer proceeded
to work on an ambitious piece for exhibition
purposes, he drew inspiration from his teacher’s
portrait of his own wife in the studio at the Neue
Pinakothek (Im Atelier [1903]; see figure 1.08).
Ufer, however, downplayed Thor’s interpretation,
TWO AMERICAN PAINTERS IN MUNICH 13
 which featured the sinuous curves and rich
coloring of Jugendstil—the German interpretation
of art nouveau, which was characterized by an
ornamental rather than floral approach to form
and by saturated, frequently contrasting strong
colors rather than a tonal palette. Jugendstil took
its name from the magazine Jugend, founded
in Munich in 1896, which promoted not just
modern art but a reformed lifestyle liberated from
outlived conventions.33 Ufer sat Mary on a simple
chair, integrated wallpaper and door in a light
background with which her black dress would
contrast sharply, and offered little else to detract
from her graceful yet exaggerated posture in
these bare surroundings. Both husband painters
showed their wives communicating with a
piece of art, but Ufer tried to go beyond this
mood of private reverie and make a character
study of Mary. In technique, Ufer followed the
smooth brush his teacher employed at the time:
1.08
Walter Thor, In the Studio
(Portrait of the Artist’s Wife),
1903. Oil on canvas;
34.41 × 43.58 in. (87.4 × 110.7 cm).
Neue Pinakothek (Inv. No. 8271),
Bayerische Staatsgemaeldesammlungen,
Munich

1.09
Walter Ufer, Portrait
of Mary (Admiring
a Vase), 1913. Oil on
canvas; 42.69 × 51.6 in.
(108.43 × 131.06 cm).
The Harwood Museum of Art,
gift of Mrs. Lewis F. Wise

14 A PLACE IN THE SUN

 it left no visible traces and carefully set off the
different textures. Exhibited in Chicago in 1916,
Mary’s portrait was praised for its realism and
awareness of textures but criticized for the
model’s rather harsh appearance. 34
is great—Munich has nothing like it,” but he
had visited plenty of Old Masters in Europe and
was “longing to see something refreshing and
modern.”36

At the end of his European sojourn, Ufer

visited Paris, accompanied by Hennings. Ufer’s
reports to his wife sum up his convictions and
the perspectives gained in Munich. He found
French life and art altogether inferior to the
German example, and apart from Puvis de
Chavannes and Auguste Rodin, he discovered
little to compete with Munich ideals: “Franz
Stuck looks like a mountain to me. Also Julius
Diez’s murals in the University of Munich . . .
Hildebrandts fountain of Lenbach Platz.” 35
In Paris Ufer and Hennings visited not the
exhibitions of the avant-garde but of the
impressionists—“a school of small brush-
strokers”—and walked away convinced that
“Paris has not one painter who can handle a
large brush masterly.” Admittedly the “Louvre
E. MARTIN HENNINGS—
FROM PEASANTS TO PAN
The Munich education of E. Martin Hennings
was quite different from Ufer’s. The spectrum
of styles and techniques Hennings experienced
was broader, his exposure time to them longer.
In consequence, the paintings and drawings he
created in Munich are more numerous, while the
influences are less obvious; his works defy the
straightforward comparisons that Ufer’s works
lend themselves to.
When Hennings arrived in December 1912,
it was too late in the semester to apply to the
Academy of Fine Arts.37 Apparently, he joined
Ufer at Thor’s instead for an initiation into the
Munich manner of studying the life model,

1.10
E. Martin Hennings,
Untitled (Standing Nude
Male), ca. 1912–15. Charcoal
on paper; 17.25 × 11 in.
(43.82 × 27.94 cm). New Mexico
Museum of Art, gift of Mrs. Helen
Hennings Winton, 1980 (1980.26.48)

1.11
E. Martin Hennings, Untitled
(Standing Nude Male),
ca. 1912–15. Charcoal and
chalk on paper; 18.5 × 11.5 in.
(46.99 × 29.21 cm). New Mexico
Museum of Art, gift of Mrs. Helen
Hennings Winton, 1980 (1980.26.68)

TWO AMERICAN PAINTERS IN MUNICH 15

 which helped him prepare for entrance exams.
At the start of the next semester, Hennings
had to present to the professor of his choice
a portfolio of drawings of heads and nudes as
well as sketchbooks. If the professor approved
of the portfolio, he would be admitted to the
entrance exams, which would further test his
drawing abilities. Entrance requirements grew
more demanding as the Academy strove to live
up to its new status of university (Hochschule).
Practical instruction started with drawing after
the life model (Naturklasse), and then branched
out into painting, sculpture, and graphic arts.
Painters proceeded from the painting class
(Malklasse) to an advanced composition class
(Komponierschule). Accompanying theoretical
instruction were lectures in history, including
art history, as well as exercise classes for
perspective, anatomy, and painting materials.38
Hennings was accepted into Angelo Jank’s
painting class at the Academy. Jank himself
had studied there in the early 1890s, with Paul
Höcker, whose class was then considered a
modern talent pool.39 A number of Höcker’s
students, Jank among them, had founded Die
Scholle—an artists’ group with a preference for
modern everyday subjects in elegant settings;
broad, lively brushwork; and a sunny palette.
Die Scholle was still much in vogue during
Hennings’s years at the Academy and would
provide his main orientation.
Jank’s own range of activity must have
been motivating and his painting style liberating
for his students. Public murals, portraits of the
nobility, poster designs, and illustrations made
up the spectrum of his work. Horses and military
dignitaries, elegant hunters and riders, male
and female, were his trademark. His painting
technique was versatile and dazzling. Numerous
studies of horses display unmixed contrasting
colors, which his brush picked up from his
palette, dashingly delineating the curves of
animal and man. Paint handling might vary within
one work, combining firm figures walking on
late impressionist grounds in front of a cubist
1.12
Angelo Jank, Study of a
backdrop.40 In 1905 Halali, a large scene of Horse, date unknown. Oil on
fashionable fox hunters, caused a sensation with cardboard; 13.34 × 19.09 in.
(34 × 48.5 cm). © Akademie der
its posterlike aesthetics. Jank eliminated all but Bildenden Künste, Munich
the essentials for increased impact and basked
everything in “red-iron heat.” Halali’s purchase
for the Neue Pinakothek confirmed the official
acceptance of his style.41
Jank had been a professor at the Munich
Academy since 1907 and not only taught several
courses—drawing, painting, and composition—
but that summer of 1913, he also had about
four times as many students as any of the other
professors.42 If we view the awards at the student
summer exhibitions as performance benchmarks,
Jank’s students did better than those of Carl Marr
(the American expatriate who continued to be
popular with American students) and of Hugo von
Habermann (an interesting portraitist despite or
because of his mannerisms), and they did at least
as well as those of Franz von Stuck (the most
sought-after teacher of the human figure) and of
Heinrich von Zügel (the animal painter).43 With the
exception of the latter, who demanded a strict
artistic allegiance from his “little Zügels,” none
of those other professors formed a recognizable
school. This younger generation of teachers was

16 A PLACE IN THE SUN

 aware of how a prescribed style could constrain
independent artistic evolution and instead sought
to kindle individuality.
Regrettably, the early works of Jank’s
numerous students are obscure today, but they
would not have borne the unequivocal mark of
this school. And although Hennings’s heads, half-
figures, and nudes all belong to the academic
context, most of them cannot with any certainty
be allocated to Jank’s, Stuck’s, or even Thor’s
school. The young painter experimented with
various models and ideals in his works. The
features of Jank’s example that might have
inspired Hennings include the nonchalance with
which the former mixed independent brushwork
with firm shapes and the elegance of his figures,
even without clearly delineated faces. Jank
also demonstrated the power of large-format
landscapes with low horizons overcut by tall
foreground figures, especially if fitted into a
quadratic format (a composition not unique to
Jank, incidentally; Stuck and many others favored
it). Jank’s use of vibrant colors and simplified
forms to posterlike effect broached new pictorial
principles.
Following the trip to Paris with Ufer, Hennings
joined Thor again, who took his summer school
1.13
Angelo Jank, Halali to Neubeuern that year, a small town south
(Hunter’s Signal), 1905. Oil of Rosenheim at the foot of a castle.44 There
on canvas; 107.09 × 97.24 in.
(272 × 247 cm). Neue
Pinakothek, Bayerische
Staatsgemaeldesammlungen,
Munich

1.14
Market square of
Neubeuern, ca. 1900.
Photograph. Reinhard Käsinger
Archive, Schloss Neubeuern

TWO AMERICAN PAINTERS IN MUNICH 17

 Hennings experimented with planes of intense
color in a nightscape of the Neubeuern
marketplace. For his views of nearby towns,
such as Wasserburg on the Inn River, or the
Zugspitze and portraits of peasants, he opted for
a bright impressionistic manner. Hennings, as
Ufer had done, experimented with Thor’s square
brushwork—as is evidenced in a study of an
older man whose beard is similarly constructed of
squares.
Upon his return to the Academy in fall
1913, Hennings probably applied to Stuck’s
class. Access to Stuck’s classes was restricted
because the popular professor kept them small,
with about fifteen students in the painting and
five to seven in the composition classes.45 Only
one American painter, the otherwise obscure
Louis Walter, who entered Stuck’s class in
October 1912, might have been a classmate of
Hennings.
Franz von Stuck (1863–1928) had rapidly
risen to fame since the late 1880s, when his
sensuous paintings, such as the popular Sin,
detonated in the Munich art world. Sin showed
a voluptuous female nude around whose neck
wriggled a luscious black snake. Other works

1.16
E. Martin Hennings, Untitled
(Sketch for European City
Night Scene), ca. 1912–15.
Pencil on paper; 4.5 × 5.75 in.
(11.43 × 14.62 cm). New Mexico
Museum of Art, gift of Mrs. Helen
Hennings Winton, 1980 (1980.26.24)

1.15
1.17
E. Martin Hennings at his
E. Martin Hennings,
easel, Munich, ca. 1912–14.
European City Night Scene,
Photograph. In the image,
ca. 1912–15. Oil on canvas;
the painting at the bottom is
26.75 × 36.75 in. (67.9 × 93.3
Hennings’s depiction of the
cm). New Mexico Museum of Art,
market square of Neubeuern,
gift of Mrs. E. Martin Hennings, 1979
Germany. Smithsonian Institution,
(1979.63.5)
Archives of American Art

18 A PLACE IN THE SUN

1.18
E. Martin Hennings, Portrait
of a Bearded Man in Hat,
ca. 1912. Oil on canvas;
18.5 × 15 in. (47 × 38.1 cm).
New Mexico Museum of Art, gift
of Mrs. E. Martin Hennings, 1979
(1979.64.9)
featured nymphs and satyrs enjoying the bucolic
freedom of a paradisiacal ancient world. Stuck
had forged a highly decorative and symbolically
charged style, incorporating influences of Arnold
Böcklin’s paintings, Belgian symbolism, Greek
sculpture, and Japanese graphic art. He was
now leading the existence of an artist prince.
As a painter, he was considered past his prime,
but as a sculptor, he remained undisputed.46 In
whatever medium, Stuck shaped the human
body according to traditional academic principles,
thus easing public understanding of his subjects
in symbolist garb. His students valued Stuck’s
unfailing grasp of form. When the venerated
master posed a nude model, this equaled
both an anatomical seminar and a sacred act. 47
His coloring, which tended to contrast dark
with garish tones, was less popular. Students
described his personality as aloof and reticent,
his corrections as sparse but accurate. He
was adamant about the strict application of
anatomy but never painted into their works. To
advance the command of the figure, its weight,
its proportions, the soft beauty of the female,
the athletic strength of the male, any medium
might serve.48 In his class, students would
draw and paint; to some, he recommended
modeling in clay. Stuck also attracted students by
providing an alternative to the prevailing prosaic
naturalism and impressionistic randomness.
His compositions were clearly structured,
emphasizing planes and strong lines with an
TWO AMERICAN PAINTERS IN MUNICH 19

ornamental character; his neoclassicist ambitions
imbued his works with a new discipline; his
symbolism played on themes to transcend the
everyday.49
Hennings’s painting At Dusk, of two naked
boys kindling a fire, resembles some of Stuck’s
works in mood, most closely Abendstern
(Evening Star), which shows a couple in a
flat, stylized landscape in bluish tints. Stuck’s
painting shows influences of, among others,
Edvard Munch and Japanese art.50 The line
of trees in Hennings’s picture, with their thin
ornamental stems and leaves, which would
become a recurring feature in his work, makes
its first appearance here. It is not Stuck to whom
he owes this but to more stylized Jugendstil
examples. After Hennings’s return to Chicago,
51
The Surprise, featuring Pan waking a nymph,
20 A PLACE IN THE SUN
won him a gold medal. Whether this work
was inspired by reminiscences of Stuck or of
Jank—who in his younger years was bent on
the lyrical—its good reception attested to the
continued appeal of bucolic subjects.
In 1914 Hennings was intent on establishing
himself as painter in Munich. He helped
reorganize the American Artists Club to serve
not only as a social and artistic meeting place,
as it had done for decades, but as a vehicle for
“going public.” In June, Hennings and Herbert E.
Martini, president of the American Artists
Club, managed to place their works with the
Kunstverein, an art association dating back to
1826 that featured popular weekly exhibitions.52
Whether an exhibition at Brakls Kunsthaus,
an elegant modern commercial gallery,
materialized in March 1914 as scheduled cannot
1.19
Franz von Stuck, Die
Sünde (Sin), ca. 1908.
Syntonos [tempera] on
canvas; 34.875 × 21.625 in.
(88.58 × 54.93 cm). Frye Art
Museum, Charles and Emma Frye
Collection (1952.169) © Frye Art
Museum, Seattle, Washington
1.20
E. Martin Hennings, At
Dusk, ca. 1912. Oil on canvas;
28.25 × 24 in. (71.76 × 60.96 cm).
New Mexico Museum of Art, gift of
Mrs. E. Martin Hennings, 1979
(1979.63.8)
1.21
Franz von Stuck, Evening
Star (Abendstern),
before 1912. Oil on panel;
27.56 × 28.74 in. (70 × 73 cm).
Museum Villa Stuck, Munich
be ascertained, but the fact that it was planned
attests to the aspirations and tastes of Hennings
and his friends.53 Brakls’ artistic mainstays were
the painters of Die Scholle; their plein air scenes
and bourgeois interiors, executed with broad
bravura and bright colors, were only moderately 1.22
modern but highly successful. Allegiance to E. Martin Hennings, The
Surprise, 1916. Illustration in
such examples promised prestige and broad Eveline Marie Stuart, “Twentieth
acceptance, a promise that must have seemed American Exhibition of Chicago Art,”
Fine Arts Journal 34, no. 3 (March
easily transferable to Chicago.
1916): 112.
During the period when Hennings and Ufer
lived in Munich, it was impossible not to notice 1.23
Angelo Jank, Faun und
modern avant-garde art. Moderne Galerie Nymphen (Faun and
Thannhauser, the Neue Kunstsalon, and Hans Nymphs), 1897. Illustration
accompanying the poem “Im
Goltz Moderne Galerie all held exhibitions of
Zwielicht” (“In the Twilight”)
French and German avant-garde artists as well by Franz Langheinrich, from Die
as of the local Neue Künstlervereinigung and the Jugend 2, no. 27–52 (1897): 715.
© Universitätsbibliothek Heidelberg
Blauer Reiter group led by Wassily Kandinsky (G 5442-10 Folio RES)
and Franz Marc. It would have been easy to meet
the local avant-garde: well-connected American
TWO AMERICAN PAINTERS IN MUNICH 21
 expatriate artists, such as Adolf Erbslöh and
Frank Eugene, happily acted as mediators.
Marsden Hartley, who was put in touch with
Kandinsky by Hans Goltz, declared Munich “the
hotbed of ultra-modern art.”54 Albert Bloch, from
St. Louis—upon his arrival still enthused for
the French impressionists, and the seemingly
incompatible Franz von Stuck—later avidly
followed modern trends and eventually exhibited
with the Blauer Reiter.55 Other members of the
American Artists Club, such as August Biehle
and Bertram Hartman, developed moderate
interests in avant-garde art.56 Ufer and Hennings
obviously and deliberately chose not to. They felt
more comfortable as followers of a fashionable
and well-respected school of younger German
painters.57 1.24
When war broke out in August 1914, Artistic activity dwindled, chauvinism replaced Walter Ufer and E. Martin
Hennings continued at the Munich Academy. cosmopolitanism, and at the Kunstverein, Hennings in Paris, 1913.
Photograph. Private Collection
Unlike citizens of nations with which Germany paintings of military subjects ushered in the war
was at war, Americans were not forced to in art.59 The art city of Munich as a cosmopolitan
leave.58 Yet attendance dropped sharply as hub, where tradition could meet innovation, had
students of many nations were called to arms. ceased to exist.

1.25
American Artists Club
members, 1913. Photograph.
(Front row, seated, far right)
Walter Ufer; (front row,
seated, second from right)
E. Martin Hennings.
Private Collection

22 A PLACE IN THE SUN

NOTES 1. “E. Martin Hennings,” Polizeimeldebogen (police registra-
tion form; hereafter PMB), Münchner Stadtarchiv (Munich
Municipal Archive).
2. For an overview of this period, see Friedrich Prinz
and Marita Krauss, eds., München—Musenstadt mit
Hinterhöfen: Die Prinzregentenzeit, 1886–1912 (Munich:
C. H. Beck, 1989). For a panorama of the Schwabing
bohème, see Helmut Bauer, ed., Schwabing: Kunst und
Leben um 1900, exhibition catalogue (Munich: Münchner
Stadtmuseum, 1998). The most recent comprehensive
publication on the Academy is Nikolaus Gerhart, Walter
Grasskamp, and Florian Matzner, eds., “ . . . kein
bestimmter Lehrplan, kein gleichförmiger Mechanismus”
200 Jahre Akademie der Bildenden Künste München,
exhibition catalogue (Munich: Haus der Kunst, 2008).
The full name of the Munich Academy in the late nine-
teenth century was Königlich bayerische Akademie der
bildenden Künste, which translates into Royal Bavarian
Academy of the Fine Arts.
3. On American-Bavarian artistic transfer, see Christian
Fuhrmeister, Hubertus Kohle, and Veerle Thielemans,
eds., American Artists in Munich: Artistic Migration
and Cultural Exchange Processes (Berlin and Munich:
Deutscher Kunstverlag, 2009).
4. F
 or attendance statistics, see “Akademie der bildenden
Künste,” Frequenz, no. 1, 1887–1921, Ministerium für
Unterricht, Kultus, Wissenschaft und Kunst (Ministry of
Education, Culture, Science and the Arts; hereafter MK)
14155, Bayerisches Hauptstaatsarchiv, Munich (Bavarian
Main State Archive; hereafter BHStA).
5. To mention just two of the more prominent examples:
Oliver Dennett Grover, when he returned to the United
States in the late 1880s, had studied with Frank
Duveneck in Munich and Florence and later in Paris,
and he continued to develop art in the French manner
and was active in many capacities, playing all sorts of
“leading roles” in Chicago; see Arthur Nicholas Hosking,
“Oliver Dennett Grover: Painter,” Sketch Book 5, no. 1
(September 1905): 1–7. Frederick Freer, after his return
in the early 1880s, saw himself forced to settle in the
East and adopt impressionism before he came back to
Chicago and began an influential teaching career at the Art
Institute of Chicago; see Frederick W. Morton, “Frederick
W. Freer, Painter,” Brush and Pencil 3, no. 6 (September
1909): 289–300. Other teachers at the Art Institute who
had studied in Munich included Conrad Diehl, James
Gookins, Adam J. Rupert, Lawrence C. Earle, and Charles
A. Corwin. For the history of the school, see Anne Felicia
Cierpik, “History of the Art Institute of Chicago” (Ph.D.
diss., DePaul University, 1957) and Esther Sparks, “A
Biographical Dictionary of Painters and Sculptors in Illinois,
1808–1945” (Ph.D. diss., Northwestern University, 1971).
6. S
 alome (1906) and The Dancer Saharet (ca. 1906) are
mentioned in “Objects Newly Installed or Temporarily
Exhibited,” Bulletin of the Art Institute of Chicago 1,
no. 1 (October 1907): 6. On the provenance of the two
paintings, see Lisa Kern, “An Art Lover’s Collection: Franz
von Stuck’s Paintings Salome and Saharet from the Fritz
von Frantzius Art Collection, Chicago,” in Franz von Stuck:
Salome, ed. Matthias Mühling (Munich: Städtische Galerie
im Lenbachhaus, 2014), 155–65.
7. Catalogue of an Exhibition of Contemporary German
Paintings, exhibition catalogue (Chicago: Art Institute of
Chicago, 1907); Exhibition of Contemporary German Art,
exhibition catalogue (Chicago: Art Institute of Chicago,
1909); and (without exhibition catalogues) German Applied
Art, August 10–September 16, 1912, and Modern German
Posters, September 24–October 18, 1912, listed at “1912
Exhibition History,” Art Institute of Chicago, accessed
December 11, 2012, www.artic.edu/1910–1919/1912-exhi-
bition-history.
8. “Art in Chicago,” Art and Progress 5, no. 9 (July
1914): 342, accessed April 4, 2012, www.jstor.org/
stable/20561205.
9. F
 rederick Oswald, Bertram C. Hartman, Jonas Sileika,
George J. Seideneck, Louis Walter, E. Martin Hennings,
and Heinrich Cobb. For their entries, see Matrikelbücher
der Kunstakademie München, accessed March 15, 2015,
http://matrikel.adbk.de.
10. Cierpik, “History of the Art Institute,” and Sparks,
“Biographical Dictionary.” In the 1910s, there was only
one teacher who had studied in Munich, Louis Wilson,
who had signed up at the Munich Academy to study with
Carl Marr in 1899; see “Louis W. Wilson,” Matrikelbücher
der Kunstakademie München, accessed April 4, 2012,
http://matrikel.adbk.de/05ordner/mb_1884–1920/
jahr_1899/matrikel-02009. This coincides with a short
gap in his exhibiting at the Art Institute in 1898–1899;
otherwise he is registered as an instructor of antique and
advanced antique art, 1895–1918. Given the brevity of his
stay in Munich, it is difficult to ascertain how much of a
Munich Man he might have been. I am much indebted for
this information to Denise Mahoney, collections manager
and research assistant, Department of American Art, Art
Institute of Chicago.
11. J . Francis Smith, “The Art Academy,” Brush and Pencil 1,
no. 5 (February 1898): 171.
12. W
 alter Ufer to Mary Frederiksen, Chicago, July 9, 1905,
Walter Ufer Papers, University of Notre Dame Archives,
Indiana.
13. Application, April 21, 1911, with the Notary Public of the
State of Illinois, County of Cook, Ufer Papers.
14. The attitude of students at the School of the Art Institute
in general seems to have been conservative. When a
selection of the Armory Show of 1913 was on display
there, it provoked student protests against the French
avant-garde; see Milton W. Brown, The Story of the
Armory Show (New York: Abbeville Press, 1988), 209–10.
15. W
 alter Ufer to Mary Ufer, Dresden, July 19, 1911, Ufer
Papers.
16. Bertram Hartman to Eda Hartman et al., January 9, 1912,
as paraphrased in Martha Gage Elton, “Bertram Hartman
(1882–1960): An Early Modernist from Kansas” (Ph.D.
diss., University of Kansas, 2004), 35–36.
TWO AMERICAN PAINTERS IN MUNICH 23
 17. T
 he average age range of entry according to the applicable
statutes was eighteen to thirty, but exceptions were
granted up to the age of thirty-five. Statuten (Statutes)
1911, MK 14098, BHStA.
18. P
 atricia Janis Broder, Taos: A Painter’s Dream (Boston:
New York Graphic Society, 1980), 221, makes the
claim that Ufer and Mary studied and painted in several
European countries but goes on to say, “In Munich, Ufer
studied with Walter Thor.”
19. G
 ünter Grundmann, Erlebter Jahre Widerschein: Von
schönen Häusern, guten Freunden und alten Familien in
Schlesien (München: Bergstadtverlag Wilh. Gottl. Korn,
1972). Grundmann was a student of Thor’s in 1912.
20. Women were first admitted to the Academy of Fine
Arts for the winter semester 1920–21. It was discussed
controversially in the Academy’s correspondence with the
ministry responsible, especially in a letter of January 1,
1919, MK 40907, BHStA.
21. T
 hor’s school was located in the rear building of
Schellingstraße 50. Technically, this area belongs to
Maxvorstadt, with Schwabing starting farther north, but
culturally these streets were the scene of what is associ-
ated with bohemian Schwabing from the 1890s to World
War I. Thor made short announcements of the locations of
his summer school in the weekly Die Werkstatt der Kunst,
for example, in 12, no. 37 (June 9, 1913): 512, the removal
to Neubeuern a. Inn, or the beginning of the 1913–14
semester in 12, no. 48 (September 22, 1913): 663.
22. Grundmann, Erlebter Jahre Widerschein, 29.
23. Both Der Bund and Luitpold-Gruppe were associations
founded for exhibition purposes, their members belonging
to the rather conservative well-established faction
of Munich painters. Der Bund had a separate room
at the exhibitions in the Glaspalast every year, as did
Luitpold-Gruppe, Künstlerbund Bayern, and Münchener
Künstervereinigung Scholle. Thor was chairman of Der
Bund; see “Kunstaustellungen im Münchner Glaspalast,
1869–1931,” at the Bavarian State Library Online, www.
bayerische-landesbibliothek-online.de. In January
1913 Der Bund also had a separate exhibition at the
Kunstverein Nürnberg, which later traveled to Anhaltischer
Kunstverein, Dessau; see “Laufende Ausstellungen,
München,” Die Werkstatt der Kunst 12, no. 15 (January 6,
1913): 203, and no. 25 (March 17, 1913): 342.
24. On Thor, see Horst Ludwig, ed., Münchner Maler im 19,
Jahrhundert, Bruckmanns Lexikon der Münchner Kunst,
vol. 4 (München: Bruckmann, 1983), 262–64; Ulrich
Thieme and Felix Becker, ed., Allgemeines Lexikon der
bildenden Künstler von der Antike bis zur Gegenwart,
vol. 33 (Leipzig: Engelmann, 1907–1950), 82; Wilhelm
Zils, ed., Geistiges und künstlerisches München in
Selbstbiographien (München: Kellerer, 1913), 370; and
Lothar Altmann, “Walter Thor, Ein vergessener Münchner
Porträtmaler der Jahrhundertwende,” Weltkunst 61,
no. 3 (February 1, 1991): 248. Im Atelier (Bildnis der
Frau des Künstlers) (In the Studio [Portrait of the Artist’s
Wife]) (1903) and Selbstbildnis (Self-Portrait) (1906) were
bought by the Bavarian State at the art exhibitions at the
24 A PLACE IN THE SUN
Glaspalast in 1903 and 1906; see Christian Lenz et al.,
Bayerische Staatsgemäldesammlungen, Neue Pinakothek
München: Deutsche Künstler von Marées bis Slevogt, vol.
3 (München: Hirmer, 2003), 179–81. The award of the title
“Professor” is listed in “Walter Thor,” PMB, Münchner
Stadtarchiv. This was a prestigious title but should not be
confused with a professorship at the Academy.
25. G
 rundmann described Thor’s manner as rather gruff but
not without vanity. On correction day, he would pass
from easel to easel, every once in a while picking up a
brush, basking in the admiring gazes of his students, who
followed the swerve of his confident hand in the hope
of learning his secret; see Grundmann, Erlebter Jahre
Widerschein, 28–29.
26. O
 n the Thor-Leibl association, see Klaus Lankheit, ed.,
Erinnerungen des Malers & Ingenieurs Fritz Discher
(Benediktbeuren: Rieß-Druck, 1992), 19. Grundmann
mentioned Defregger as Thor’s teacher and Leibl as
his model and artistic ideal; Grundmann, Erlebter Jahre
Widerschein, 29. This view is also held in several clippings
covering a memorial exhibition in 1929, “Walter Thor,”
Zeitungsausschnittsammlung (Collection of newspaper
clippings), Münchner Stadtarchiv.
27. Lankheit, Erinnerungen Discher, 19. Walter Ufer to
Ms. V. R. Purinton, Rockford, Illinois, May 16, 1935,
Ufer Papers; refers to Woman of Dachau, whose current
location is unknown.
28. Grundmann, Erlebter Jahre Widerschein, 29–30.
29. Ibid., 29. The assumption that Ufer joined Thor that
summer in the Leutaschtal valley is substantiated not only
by two of Ufer’s works, Tyrolean Woman—Plein Air and
Tyrolean Girl, painted in the summer of 1912, but also by
a letter, dated September 4, 1912, from Hugo Helmrichs,
addressed to Ufer at Hotel zum See, Leutasch bei
Seefeld, Tirol, and two letters by Max Harlander, also from
Munich, Ufer Papers.
30. Grundmann, Erlebter Jahre Widerschein, 29.
31. Also Tyrolean Dreams, unlocated, illustrated in “The
Palette and Chisel Club Exhibition,” Fine Arts Journal 34,
no. 5 (May 1916): 237.
32. Hugo Helmrichs was a teacher of technical drawing
for maps, cadastres, and instruments at the Bavarian
Technical School in Munich. See Personalstand der
königlich Bayerischen Technischen Hochschule zu
München (München: Akademische Buchdruckerei F.
Straub, 1909–1915). These yearbooks list the teachers
for every semester; Helmrichs is documented every
semester from winter 1909–10 until 1915.
33. S
 ee Lenz et al., Bayerische Staatsgemäldesammlungen,
Neue Pinakothek, 180. Thor’s works were included
in the annual catalogs of exhibited works at the Neue
Pinakothek, see Katalog der Gemäldesammlung der
Königlichen Neuen Pinakothek in München (München:
F. Bruckmann, 1910, 1912, 1913, and 1914). The Neue
Pinakothek was founded by King Ludwig I as a state
museum of contemporary art.
34. Anne Lisle Booth, “Two Moods of a Forceful Artist,” Fine
Arts Journal 34, no. 5 (May 1916): 225.
 35. Walter Ufer to Mary Ufer, June 22, 1913, Ufer Papers.
36. Walter Ufer to Mary Ufer, June 23, 1913, Ufer Papers.
37. The statutes required that students apply in September for
admittance to the winter semester and after Easter for the
summer semester. See Statuten 1911, Satzungen, vol. 1,
1847–1911, MK 14101, BHStA.
38. Statuten 1911. The Academy had risen to the status of
university in 1909 and afterward seems to have enforced
rules more rigorously than in earlier years.
39. B
 irgit Jooss, “‘. . . der erste, Moderne in der alten
Akademie’—der Lehrer Paul Höcker,” in Die Scholle: Eine
Künstlergruppe zwischen Sezession und Blauer Reiter,
ed. Siegfried Unterberger, Felix Billeter, and Ute Strimmer
(München: Prestel, 2007), 28–43.
40. Herbstmorgen, signed “A. Jank 1912,” current location
unknown, illustrated in Angelo Jank, 12 Kunstdrucke aus
der “Jugend” (München: Verlag der “Jugend,” n.d.), n.p.
41. Richard Braungart, “Angelo Jank—München,” Deutsche
Kunst und Decoration 29 (October 1911–March 1912):
33; Georg Jakob Wolf, Kunst und Künstler in München:
Studien und Essays (Strassburg: J. H. Heitz, 1908),
101–102.
42. Jank taught seventy-one students that semester:
thirty-eight drawing, twenty-five painting, and nine compo-
sition students; see Frequenz, no. 1, 1887–1921 (statistics
for the summer semester 1912–13), MK 14155, BHStA.
43. O
 n the summer 1913 exhibition of student works and
the prizes awarded at the Academy, see “Vermischte
Nachrichten, München,” supplement, Die Christliche
Kunst 9 (1912–13): 31.
44. M
 ary Monrad Frederiksen, in a letter to her husband,
speaks of Hennings’s staying with Thor in Neubeuern; see
Mary Ufer to Walter Ufer, August 21, 1913, Ufer Papers. In
the beautiful castle of Neubeuern, the gracious hospitality
of Baron von Wendlstedt and his family brought together
famous literary men and artists with Germany’s industrial
barons and their wives or the occasional guest from the
United States (most prominently among the latter, Edward
Robinson, at the time already director of the Metropolitan
Museum). It seems, however, that there was no notable
contact between the elitist coterie at the castle and the
students who were probably living at the local inns. For all
information concerning Neubeuern as well as the identifi-
cation of various motifs, I am deeply indebted to Reinhard
Käsinger, who rediscovered the castle’s interesting history
and has made his knowledge available at “Our History,”
Schloss Neubeuern, accessed March 15, 2015, www.
schloss-neubeuern.de/402/-ber-uns/unsere-geschichte.
45. In the winter semester of 1913–14, Stuck taught fifteen
painting students and corrected six composition students;
see Frequenz, no. 1, 1887–1921.
46. Jos. Poppelreuter, “Eine Monumentalauftrag an Franz von
Stuck,” Kunstchronik 24, no. 40 (August 1, 1912): 585–88.
47. Willi Geiger (a favorite student of Stuck’s), “Franz von
Stuck zum Gedächtnis an seinem 75: Geburtstag,” in Villa
Stuck, Franz von Stuck 1863–1928 (München: Karl M.
Lipp, 1984), 50.
48. S
 tuck identified his gender-specific approach in the early
1890s in an undated autobiographical questionnaire, sent
to him by Fritz von Ostini, an art critic and, among others,
Stuck’s biographer; Franz von Stuck, ca. 1895–1899,
Ostiniana IX, Bayerische Staatsbilbliothek (Bavarian State
Library), Munich.
49. J. A. Schmoll gen. Eisenwerth, “Joseph Albers über Franz
von Stuck: Ein Interview,” in Das Phänomen Franz von
Stuck: Kritiken, Essays, Interviews 1968–1972 (München:
Villa Stuck, 1972), 119.
50. E
 dwin Becker, Franz von Stuck: Eros and Pathos,
exhibition catalogue (Amsterdam: Van Gogh Museum,
1995–96), 82.
51. Similar lines of trees appear in Bertram Hartman’s work
at the time. Hartman’s may have been abstracted from
Carl Strathman’s work, as suggested by Elton, “Bertram
Hartman,” 36, but they do not seem to be straightforward
imitations.
52. “
 Eröffnete Ausstellungen, Kunstverein München,” Die
Werkstatt der Kunst 13, no. 34 (May 18, 1914): 447, and
Die Werkstatt der Kunst 36 (June 1, 1914): 469.
53. The American Artists Club in Munich was organized in
January 1914 “to assist American students of the fine arts
in Munich,” with Herbert E. Martini serving as president,
Bennet S. Linder as vice president, Ernest Dean as
treasurer, and E. Martin Hennings as secretary. In March
1914, an exhibition of work by members was announced
at Brakls; see American Federation of Arts, American Art
Annual (New York: MacMillan, 1914), 352. Franz Josef
Brakl was notorious for his erratic promotion and can-
celation of exhibition projects; see Karl-Heinz Meissner,
“Der Handel mit Kunst in München, 1500–1945,” in
Ohne Auftrag: Zur Geschichte des Kunsthandels, vol. 1,
ed. Rupert Walser and Bernhard Wittenbrink (München:
Walser and Wittenbrink, 1989), 34–43.
54. Hartley to Stieglitz, February [n.d.] 1913, in James Timothy
Voorhies, ed., My Dear Stieglitz: Letters of Marsden
Hartley and Alfred Stieglitz, 1912–1915 (Columbia:
University of South Carolina Press, 2002), 56.
55. Bloch wrote about his former stylistic preferences in
a letter to Edward A. Maser, June 20, 1955, quoted
in Henry Adams, Margaret C. Conrads, and Annegret
Hoberg, Albert Bloch: The American Blue Rider, exhibition
catalogue (Kansas City: Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art;
Munich: Städtische Galerie im Lenbachhaus; Wilmington:
Delaware Art Museum, 1997), 24.
56. August Biehle’s work is illustrated online at www.august-
biehle.org. For Bertram Hartman, see Elton, “Bertram
Hartman.”
57. T
 his epithet was applied to Ufer by Lena McCauley,
Chicago Evening Post, September 13, 1913.
58. C
 orrespondence on the immatriculation of foreigners,
May 2, 1917, Satzungen, Specialia, vol. 1, 1911–1921, MK
14098, BHStA.
59. “
 München (Kunstverein) Sammlung von
Schlachtenbildern,” Die Werkstatt der Kunst 13, no. 47
(September 21, 1914): 600.
TWO AMERICAN PAINTERS IN MUNICH 25
 2 A BIOGRAPHY OF WALTER UFER
2.01 (Opposite)
Walter Ufer, date unknown.
Photograph. Private collection
2.02
Postcard of Hückeswagen,
Germany, from Walter Ufer
to Mary Ufer, postmarked
July 7, 1911. Walter Ufer Papers,
University of Notre Dame Archives,
gift of Stephen L. Good
Dean A. Porter
In 1880, Alwina (born Meuser) and Peter Ufer,
with their sons Walter and Otto, joined the
legion of immigrants who left Germany to
settle in America. Departing from their home in
Hückeswagen, and following in the footsteps of
relatives who had settled in Louisville, Kentucky,
the Ufers moved to a city with a considerable
German American settlement.1 Even though
Walter Ufer was born in Hückeswagen, thirty-
seven miles southeast of Düsseldorf, until his
death he claimed Louisville as his birthplace. 2
Ufer’s childhood in Kentucky profoundly
shaped his life and career. By the time
Walter was twelve, his family’s poor financial
circumstances necessitated his working odd
jobs, peddling newspapers and lighting gas
lamps. From his earnings, he paid his mother
room and board. Peter Ufer was to have a major
influence on his son. Politically, the senior Ufer
was “an intellectual radical of the 1848 type,”
active in the workers’ movement and the
27
Socialist Party, causes that the younger Ufer
would later champion.3 Professionally, Peter Ufer
was a well-known gunsmith, a skillful carver of
furniture and smoking pipes, and an engraver of
hunting scenes on guns.4 It was from his father
that Walter Ufer first learned to draw and later
learned engraving.
Like so many fellow Forty-Eighters, Peter
Ufer was an atheist and prohibited his son from
going to church. Instead of attending Sunday
services, Walter took classes from William
Clarke, a student of the Parisian artist Ernest
Meissonier. Thus, Walter learned perspective
and watercolors at an early age, causing him to
boast, “at 12 I knew Perspective perfectly, and
as well as any architect.”5 Besides his father and
William Clarke, his first teacher, Alice Hunter, and
W. O. Cross, principal of Walter’s Fourth Ward
Grammar School, encouraged him to pursue art.6
Walter enjoyed impressing his classmates with
his drawings.7
 With growing aspirations of becoming a
painter, Ufer left high school during his freshman
year. At sixteen, he became an apprentice to
8
Dr. Johann Juergens, an engraver for a major
lithographic firm in Louisville, the Courier Journal
Job Printing Company. To keep Walter “off the
9
streets,” Juergens taught the boy lithography
and design, on the job and three nights a week.
Because there was no important art school in
Kentucky, Walter saved his money to study in
Cincinnati.10 He became sidetracked, however,
when he decided to travel to Chicago to see
the World’s Columbian Exposition in 1893. The
visual cornucopia, filling 80 galleries and 108
alcoves, overwhelmed him, further fueling his
passion for art. In fact, he lived for two weeks
in the Fine Arts Building, developing an intimate
relationship with the art exhibited. “I would have
stayed there longer but I had no more money,”
wrote Ufer. The visit also ignited his interest
11
in studying in Chicago. Compared to his more
provincial hometown, which “consisted of a lot of
old spinsters talking about it [art] over tea,” Ufer
found Chicago culturally rich and a promising
place to launch his career.12 Ufer came back from
Chicago “with new ideas: I was not the same
boy any longer.”13
Before he could move to Chicago, Walter
was invited to Germany to work and study
with Dr. Juergens, who had moved back to his
hometown of Hamburg. Juergens had opened
his own lithographic firm and found a spot for
the hardworking Ufer.14 On November 2, 1893,
Ufer sailed from New York to Hamburg on
the SS Columbia, Hamburg-American Line. In
Hamburg, Ufer worked for Juergens during the
day and continued his studies in the evenings
at the Künstgewerbeschule (applied art school).
There, according to Ufer, he studied hard with
“Danes, Englishmen, Russians, etc., as well
as with Germans” of all ages. The young artist
recounted that his instruction was “thorough,”
as classes in lithography were “combined with
the Nude class.” They studied anatomy, drawing
from plaster casts. “Little by little my nudes
28 A PLACE IN THE SUN
began to breathe,” wrote Ufer, reflecting on his
studies.15
Ufer took advantage of cultural opportunities
while in Germany. He learned to read and quote
Goethe and Schiller in German and to discuss
Shakespeare and Shelley in English. He was
impressed with Germany’s education system,
and he concluded, “There was no illiteracy.
Plumber, Brick-layer had to study.” He was also
drawn to the “painting schools and Academies of
Fine Arts that were dotted over Germany.” After
visiting Germany, Ufer was even more critical
of Louisville. He shunned “the thought of ever
having to go back.”16
After nine months in Hamburg, Ufer moved
on. Juergens had taught him well, and Ufer,
now a journeyman apprentice with a voracious
appetite for learning, embarked on a tour of
Germany. In city after city, Walter refined his
skills, working three months each in Barmen and
Cologne and in other cities in Germany before
arriving at his final destination, Dresden.
Armed with a portfolio of drawings and
lithographs, Walter applied to the Dresden
Royal Academy of Fine Arts. After waiting three
long weeks, he was accepted without having
to pass an entrance exam. Now he could work
with much-admired teachers Carl Bautzer on
composition and Gotthardt Kuehl on the nude.
According to Ufer, Kuehl’s class was as hard to
get into as any in Paris. He wrote, “My God!
Kuehl was the Hell raiser, I had heard that. To get
under him you almost had to paint so well as to
get into an International [exhibition].”
Ufer resigned from a job at the design firm
of Herzog and Wanrich, claiming he “fired his
bosses,” and became a full-time student.17
For three years he created faultlessly precise
drawings in a distinctively Dresden style. Despite
showing great promise, however, he ran out
of money. Destitute even though he received
numerous loans from his brother, Otto, he
reluctantly returned home. After five wonderful
years in Germany, he was back in the city he
loathed, Louisville.
2.03
Walter Ufer working at
the Binner Engraving
Company, Chicago, ca. 1900.
Photograph. Speed Art Museum,
Louisville, Kentucky
2.04
Mary Monrad Frederiksen
Ufer with Christine
Frederiksen, ca. 1911–13.
Photograph. Collection of
Catherine Gramatzki
In Dresden, Ufer had earned sixty dollars
weekly as an engraver; in Louisville, he earned
ten. Determined to improve his life, Ufer
boarded a train to Chicago with nine dollars in
his pocket. Fortunately, he found employment
as a commercial designer for O. E. Binner and
Company at twenty dollars a week. In 1904,
he moved on to the Barnes-Crosby Company,
followed by seven years at the Armour Meat
Packing Company.
At night he resumed his studies, this time at
the Art Institute of Chicago. After three frustrating
months, he quit and moved to the J. Francis
Smith School, an institution affiliated with Paris’s
Académie Julian. “I joined the night class,” Ufer
wrote. “The best designers in Chicago were
there.” He studied with, in his opinion, “some of
the best Nude draftsmen in the United States.”18
Every three months, Smith awarded a gold medal
to the best student drawings, sending the work
to compete at the Académie Julian. After six
months, Ufer received the gold medal. Years later,
he boasted that the competition was “against
all comers,” that his work received “the biggest
score that any student had ever gotten,” and that
his record score still stood, having never “been
beaten.” Ufer would write about how much
better the Smith School was than the Art Institute
School, contending, “We [at the Smith School]
just made The Art Institute look sick.”19
Smith soon engaged Ufer to teach classes.
One of Ufer’s students was from Copenhagen,
Mary Monrad Frederiksen. He met her in 1905,
a woman seven years his elder whom he found
“charming[,] even delicately beautiful.”20 A year
later they were married, beginning a mercurial,
often tragic relationship. Mary became and
remained Walter’s strongest patron through the
most difficult of times. She even sacrificed her
promising painting career to support Walter.
A BIOGRAPHY OF WALTER UFER 29

While Walter’s family was “rotten poor,”
Mary’s was socially, politically, and economically
prominent. Peter Ufer was a craftsman, and
Mary’s father, Nils Christian Frederiksen, was a
professor of political economics at the University
of Denmark who came from the wealthiest family
in the country.21 Furthermore, Mary’s maternal
grandfather was prime minister of Denmark. This
class distinction haunted Walter. It was never
more apparent than when he was with members
of Mary’s family, in particular her brother
Ditlev, who made Walter feel, as he stated,
“incompetent.”22 Ufer’s social and financial
situation, in addition to his physical appearance
(as a child, the artist had been sickly and small,
and he had worn glasses from an early age),
contributed to a lifetime of insecurity. The artist
often overcompensated for these insecurities,
boasting about his accomplishments or otherwise
attempting to make himself look better, even
at the expense of others. But, when it came
to money, Ufer swallowed his pride, making
persistent pleas to Mary for financial support.
30 A PLACE IN THE SUN
2.05
Walter Ufer with his portrait
of Mary, Munich, Germany,
1912. Photograph. The Harwood
Museum of Art (1.84)
After their wedding, Mary and Walter settled
into a working routine in Chicago. By this time,
Ufer had become well known in Chicago circles,
not as a painter but as a commercial artist.
Both Walter and Mary spoke disparagingly of
the profession. Primarily, he executed designs
for calendars, advertisements, invitations, and
announcements. This work failed to advance
his career as a painter, and he found himself at
a crossroads. He felt the need to continue his
studies abroad if he wanted to be a fine artist. In
April 1911, he resigned from the Armour Meat
Packing Company, even though he claimed
he “had the reputation in Chicago as the best
commercial artist.”23 Armour was sorry to lose
Ufer, as he “had done splendid work.”24
That year, the Ufers crossed the Atlantic,
going to Norway, Sweden, Denmark, and
Germany, with hopes of “staying a while in
Munich.”25 They visited Mary’s family, and for
eight weeks Walter enjoyed living in style, having
“lots of fun.”26 His time in Copenhagen spurred
Walter’s lifelong desire to live in a grand manner.

2.06
Walter Ufer, Woman of
Dachau, 1912. Oil on canvas;
21.5 × 17.25 in. (54.61 × 43.82 cm).
Location unknown. Walter Ufer
Papers, University of Notre Dame
Archives
In July, Walter left Mary behind and departed
for Germany. Walter visited Hamburg, Cologne,
Frankfurt am Main, Weimer, Leipzig, Berlin, and
Dresden, before arriving in Munich. Eventually
Mary joined Walter, and they spent nearly two
years there; much of the time, Ufer studied under
Walter Thor. Thor was a “well-known portrait and
genre artist who emphasized the need to capture
the mind and spirit of his subjects.”27 The prolific
Ufer did a large number of drawings as well
as a series of paintings, usually portraits of the
natives, under the watchful eye of Thor. He also
did a highly refined portrait of Mary. For Walter
this painting was his pièce de résistance, a
showpiece with which he could prove himself an
accomplished portrait painter when he eventually
returned to Chicago.
Ufer’s drawings and paintings from Munich
were a dramatic stylistic departure from his
work in Dresden. His drawings were no longer
painfully exacting, dry, crisp, and cold. Rather,
Ufer enjoyed the freedom of flowing passages
created by the side of a piece of charcoal. The
tightness of his Dresden oils gave way to the
much more painterly approach of his Munich
paintings. Among the most important of his
Munich portraits was Woman of Dachau, a
woman in traditional Bavarian costume. Painted
in 1912, the canvas anticipated the direction
Ufer’s work would take when he returned to
America. His principal subjects would be people.
While Ufer was working on Woman of Dachau,
Thor examined the canvas, asked Ufer for a
palette knife, and scraped off the paint. Thor told
the furious Ufer that “it was very good,” but he
wanted “to see if it was an accident.” Ufer was
allowed to pose the same model the following
week. He again painted the old woman, and
when Thor saw it, he praised Ufer, saying, “it
was better than the first—now I know you can
paint[,] Ufer.”28
In June 1913, after an amazingly productive
stay, Walter left Munich, sending Mary back
to Copenhagen while he ventured on to Paris.
Ufer reasoned that her family could support her,
reducing his financial burden. Joined by fellow
Chicagoans E. Martin Hennings and Albrecht
Ullrich, Ufer toured Paris, writing letter after letter
to Mary about his experiences. He then traveled
through Italy, visiting another American painter
who had also studied in Munich, William Merritt
Chase, in Venice. In July, Ufer departed from
North Africa on the Kaiser Franz Joseph I, bound
for New York. Once stateside, an optimistic Ufer
experienced a serious setback when the New
York dealers, in particular William Macbeth,
showed little interest in his work. Failing to land
a gallery, Ufer condemned the city and traveled
directly to Chicago. The Chicago Evening Post
announced his return: “Walter Ufer . . . has
come from abroad and joined the local colony
of artists. . . . Mr. Ufer . . . expresses himself in
the virile manner of the progressive school of
A BIOGRAPHY OF WALTER UFER 31
 the younger German painters. His interpretation
is refined, yet he is not afraid of bold drawing
or color.”29 Ufer invited his former employers
from Armour Meat Packing Company to see his
European paintings. Several responded to his
invitation, congratulating him while promising to
visit. There is no evidence that they kept their
promises, however, or that Ufer ever made any
sales to this group. Ufer’s disappointments were
exacerbated when the Palette and Chisel Club
refused him a solo exhibition, his admission to
the Chicago Watercolor Club was discouraged,
his entries in the Art Institute of Chicago’s annual
exhibitions were rejected, and Chicago dealers
were as noncommittal as those in New York.
Ufer’s career remained at a standstill after nearly
two decades of study and work.
Mary’s letters offered suggestions, however,
that would lead to his eventual success, the most
important being that Ufer start a “subscription
program” in which he would engage a “group of
patrons who would make monthly installments.”
At the end of the year, each patron would have
the right to choose a painting. This idea inspired
30
the creation of a syndicate of German American
art collectors led by five-term mayor Carter H.
Harrison, Jr. Mary’s second suggestion was
the organization of a program designed “to
beautify the city’s buildings” with art and to
create “monuments, statues and fountains.” 31
In November 1914, Mayor Harrison fathered the
Commission for the Encouragement of Local
Artists (CELA). Her third idea was to develop a
customer base to support Walter as a portrait
painter. Mary suggested painting portraits of
Chicago notables “without charge.” Walter
succeeded in convincing a reluctant Mayor
Harrison to sit for him.
When Ufer finally secured a long-awaited
solo exhibition at the Palette and Chisel Club in
March 1914, Harrison and his fellow syndicate
members were impressed. They offered to send
Ufer to New Mexico and to finance his trip in
return for paintings of southwestern subjects.
By agreeing to advance funds for a determined
32 A PLACE IN THE SUN
number of canvases, they ensured that Ufer’s
expenses would be covered.
Mayor Harrison and his brother William
Preston Harrison were convinced that the
Southwest, partially because of their own
travels there, was the ideal subject for American
artists. The mayor, a powerful figure in Chicago’s
political and cultural life, exerted significant
influence in support of Ufer, as well as other
Chicago artists, notably Victor Higgins and E.
Martin Hennings, whose trips to New Mexico
he also sponsored. In a city known for the Art
Institute’s collection of French impressionists
and a number of artists who were proponents
of American impressionism, the Harrisons’
support of Ufer, Higgins, and Hennings signaled
the introduction of new, in fact, exotic imagery
to Chicago. The Harrisons’ influence was key in
enabling Ufer to finally launch his career as a fine
artist.
In the late summer of 1914, Ufer toured the
New Mexico pueblos, starting in Isleta, before
moving on to Santa Fe, San Juan, and finally
Taos. In Taos, Ufer met six artists who became
founding members of the Taos Society of Artists.
He immediately fit in with and was well liked
by members of the community. Besides the
artists, he befriended “Doc” Thomas Martin,
who administered a “well-known and reliable
remedy” (alcohol) for the bronchial cough Ufer
had developed his first night in town.
In November 1914, Ufer showed his
paintings in the Palace of the Governors in Santa
Fe. The local magazine El Palacio called each of
Ufer’s landscapes a “gem, although his figures
are his forte.”32 The review also noted, “Mr. Ufer
will return to Taos next summer,” foreshadowing
Ufer’s future pattern of summering in Taos
and wintering in Chicago, where he promoted
his summer’s work while painting competent
yet uninspired portraits and nudes. He would
maintain this schedule into the late 1920s.
Back in Chicago, Ufer finally broke into the
Art Institute’s juried shows when two of his
San Juan paintings were accepted. The third
2.07
Taos Society of Artists,
1915. Photograph. Couse
Family Archive
entry, however, his portrait of Mayor Harrison,
was rejected. An embarrassed Ufer blamed
the rejection on the jurors, whom he deemed
“landscapemen.” Despite this setback,
33
Ufer believed that he had to paint portraits in
Chicago. Painting portraits justified his lengthy
stays during the winters of 1914 through 1920.
Yet, virtually every portrait commission ignited
disagreements between sitter and the belligerent
artist, resulting in embarrassingly little financial
reward.
In 1915, Ufer spent two highly productive
months in Isleta, where he completed nearly
two dozen paintings, including small vignettes
of the pueblo and its surroundings under varying
atmospheric conditions as well as larger portraits.
Ufer then traveled west to Laguna Pueblo, the
Grand Canyon, and San Francisco before circling
back to San Juan and Taos.
Mayor Harrison responded whenever the
artist sought counsel. When Ufer complained
about having difficulty with models, Harrison
recommended that the artist start two canvases
and when his model “goes back on him,” paint
a landscape. Harrison also recommended that
Ufer paint larger canvases for shows: “the
25 × 30s are lost in an exhibition.”34 Carter
and Preston Harrison even went so far as to
make special requests of Ufer for paintings of
particular southwestern subjects. Ufer’s failure
to paint Preston a church picture ultimately led
to the termination of the Harrison brothers’
patronage.
Once back in Chicago, his hardly dried
canvases gained him long-awaited recognition in
the Art Institute’s juried exhibitions, with patrons
including not only the syndicate members but
also the Santa Fe Railway, the CELA, and private
collectors. For an artist who had struggled to
survive before his initial trip to the Southwest, his
New Mexico paintings now thrust him into the
Chicago spotlight.
In 1916, Ufer brought Mary with him to
Taos for the first time. This would be the third
and final trip sponsored by the syndicate. Ufer,
however, was well on his way to establishing
A BIOGRAPHY OF WALTER UFER 33
 his own patronage system. New clientele as
well as former syndicate members, including
meatpacking baron Oscar F. Mayer and
industrialist William Klauer of Dubuque, Iowa,
continued their patronage. Only Klauer, however,
would become a mainstay in Ufer’s life,
sustaining a relationship and acquiring paintings
until the artist’s death in 1936.
In 1917, the syndicate replaced Ufer with
his close friend and fellow Chicagoan E. Martin
Hennings. The insensitive Mayor Harrison wrote
a letter to Ufer, requesting his support because
the syndicate had commissioned Hennings for
“eight or ten canvases.”35 The same year, Ufer
began the most successful of his twenty-two
years as a painter. In Chicago he was elected
president of the Palette and Chisel Club; in Taos,
he and Victor Higgins were elected the seventh 2.08
and eighth members of the Taos Society of William Klauer, New
Mexico, ca. 1918. Photograph.
Artists. He also painted a significant group of William H. Klauer Family Papers,
large-scale paintings that summer. University of Notre Dame

2.09
Taos Society of Artists and
friends outside the studio
of Bert G. Phillips, ca. 1918.
Photograph. Walter Ufer Papers,
University of Notre Dame Archives

34 A PLACE IN THE SUN

 The press continued to applaud Ufer in 1918.
Following a circuit exhibition of the Taos Society
of Artists held in Chicago at Carson, Pirie,
Scott and Company, the Chicago Times wrote:
“Without a doubt, the strongest painter of this
group is our well-known Chicago artist, Walter
Ufer.”36 At the National Academy of Design, Ufer
won the prestigious Thomas B. Clarke Prize for
Going East, a canvas that inspired the Chicago
Herald Examiner to boastfully report, “Ufer is
the first resident of Chicago to capture a national
painting prize in the East. New York’s cold
attitude toward artistic effort emanating from
west of Patterson [sic], New Jersey, was broken
down by Walter Ufer’s brilliant composition
2.10
Walter Ufer, The Battery—
Union Square, 1919.
Oil on canvas; 30 × 30 in.
(76.2 × 76.2 cm). Snite Museum
of Art, University of Notre Dame,
gift of Mr. William Klauer, Sr.
Going East painted at Taos, N.M.”37
In fall 1918, with funds from the sale of
Going East to his dependable patron William
Klauer, Ufer moved to New York City, where,
according to Carter Harrison, “the ducats are.”38
Even though Ufer’s stay in New York lasted
but three months, he found himself caught up
in the wartime spirit. The artist finished only
one painting, evidencing his patriotism, The
Battery—Union Square, a panorama overlooking
an army recruiting station. He saw paintings
featuring the American flag by Childe Hassam,
Guy Wiggins, and so many others that filled the
storefronts of Fifth Avenue, the “Avenue of the
Allies.”39
A BIOGRAPHY OF WALTER UFER 35
 Whenever Ufer left Taos, his production
decreased dramatically. In the time he completed
one painting in New York, he might have done a
dozen or more paintings in Taos. Even during his
peak years, he found diversions, which drove him
from his easel. He began spending too much of
his career as a part-time artist. Departing New
York, he made the disastrous decision to publicly
denounce Chicago in the Chicago Tribune: “There
is only one art center in America. It is New York.
Compared to it, Chicago is crude, gross, ugly.
When I think of eastern hospitality to art and
artist, I shiver at Chicago’s crudity, her grossness,
her ugliness.” Yet even New York could not
40
satisfy his needs. It was Taos, its primitivism,
“the gushing streams,” “the color,” and
“those beautiful peaks of the Sangre de Cristo
Mountains,” that called “out loud” for him. 41
Firmly committed to Taos, Ufer concentrated
on creating important paintings, several of which
would win major awards. His painting Hunger
won the prestigious First Altman Prize at the
National Academy in 1921 and would be seen
nationwide in nearly thirty venues between 1921
and 1927.42 Ufer also won an award for Luzanna
[Lousanna Lujan] and Her Sisters at the Carnegie
Institute’s annual international exhibition. Ufer’s
success inspired a mixed reaction from fellow
Taos artist Ernest L. Blumenschein: “He had
the big drama. The man with no imagination but
great skill that produced beauty was the one to
land two big plums.” Ufer’s accomplishments,
43
in concert with those of the Taos Society of
Artists, contributed to his goal of creating a
nationally recognized art colony in Taos.
In 1923, Ufer’s painting Sleep won the
National Academy’s most prestigious Temple
Gold Medal for the best painting in the
exhibition regardless of subject. With this
award, Ufer proved that he could compete
with America’s strongest painters. Few could
claim representation in as many prestigious
public art museums or as many awards at major
juried exhibitions. However, the quality of
44
his paintings soon began to decline. His most
36 A PLACE IN THE SUN
creative period lasted less than a decade, brief as
a spring rain.
Critics continued to give his art positive
reviews, which encouraged Ufer. With a false
sense of security, he began to make poor
decisions, often influenced by the excesses of
his social life. In Taos, holiday celebrations were
frequent, whether in conjunction with a festival at
Taos Pueblo, a gathering hosted by Mabel Dodge
Luhan, or ad hoc parties thrown by artists.
Besides the parties Mary and Walter attended, it
wasn’t uncommon for their friends to join them
in their rented home to enjoy recently brewed
homemade beer. Numerous are the stories of
alcohol leading Walter to make a fool of himself.
When he had difficulty obtaining alcohol in Taos,
he made arrangements for his brother, Otto, and
his Chicago framers to smuggle a bottle or two in
packages sent to Taos.
To maintain this lifestyle, he succumbed to
formulaic painting. Jim Mirabal, Ufer’s favorite
model and close friend, repeatedly sat for the
artist, alternately posing as himself; a freighter
(a conveyor of goods), on horseback, with or
without his daughter; a musician; or a gardener.
For the most part, Ufer’s paintings for the next
dozen years involved a variety of subjects,
but invariably, they lacked the inventiveness
and gravity so evident in his canvases created
between 1917 and 1923.
Even though Ufer served as a hard-working
secretary and president of the Taos Society of
Artists, his preoccupation with making more sales
led him to create his own circuit exhibition. While
he was well represented by Carson, Pirie, Scott
and Company in Chicago and, by spring 1923,
Grand Central Galleries in New York, he annually
overbooked solo exhibitions in the Midwest. He
sent shows ranging in size to commercial galleries,
public museums, libraries, state fairs, and hotels—
anywhere he had a chance, albeit remote, to
make a sale. He substituted quantity for quality.
By 1926, even Carter Harrison recognized the
transformation when he criticized the artist for
having “his eye on the cash register.”45

2.11
Walter Ufer painting Hurd
Frieze, ca. 1924. Photograph.
Palace of the Governors Photo Archives
(NMHM/DCA, Neg. No. 17011)
2.12
Walter Ufer, His Kit, 1926.
Oil on canvas; 25 × 30.125 in.
(63.5 × 76.52 cm). Stark Museum
of Art, Orange, Texas (31.5.4)
To further complicate Ufer’s growing
problems, in 1923 he accepted two demanding,
time-consuming commissions. He agreed
to paint three 6-foot × 12-foot tondi for the
Capitol Decorations Project in Jefferson City,
Missouri, and a 16-inch × 68-foot frieze for the
home of L. R. Hurd in Wichita, Kansas. With
both projects, Ufer submitted to the dictates
of his patrons. The prideful artist who had
once fought valiantly against powerful men
(and women) was forced to compromise.
Both projects required exacting preliminary
studies, a practice that Ufer abhorred. Ufer
was not a history painter and so felt compelled
to do extensive research for the Jefferson
City project. With the Hurd frieze, he had to
contend with a committee of opinionated
interior designers and artists while painting
for a man Ufer called “the sly fox but not a
business man.”46 Any hope that he could
bring his unbridled skills to either project soon
dissipated. Worst of all, the projects paid poorly
and took him away from serious easel painting.
In 1925, Ufer returned to subjects he had
explored in the early 1920s. His Wealth, a
painting of Jim Mirabal and his daughter as
freighters, was purchased by the Metropolitan
Museum of Art. While selling a painting to
America’s most prestigious museum added
luster to his career, he soon painted canvas
after canvas with the same theme or formula,
many of them repetitious. A year after His
Wealth, he painted His Kit, with the same cast
of characters moving through a New Mexico
landscape. The only decisions Ufer had to make
were the location of Jim and sometimes another
figure, perhaps his daughter, what they would
wear, and who would ride the white horse or
the brown horse with a white star on its nose.
Would the background be north, toward Pueblo
Peak, or south, toward Picuris? He created a type
of image that became almost as popular and
recognizable as the idealized crouching Indians of
E. Irving Couse, which had become the subject
of criticism.
A BIOGRAPHY OF WALTER UFER 37

In 1926, he won the National Academy of
Design’s Isidor Gold Medal for A Discussion
and the Second Altman Prize for Luncheon at
Lone Locust. These were to be Ufer’s last prize
winners in juried competitions. Even though
he had also realized his dream of becoming an
academician in the National Academy, he was
surviving on his reputation alone. The following
year, the organizations in which Ufer had been
a principal member, the Taos Society of Artists
and the New Mexico Painters (an organization he
joined in 1923), disbanded. Although the circuit
exhibitions had provided venues from New York
to other large metropolitan centers for more
than a decade, he no longer needed a formal
organization as a platform.47 He ventured forth in
his own direction. In 1928, Ufer finally achieved
a long-term goal when he was given a solo show
at Macbeth Galleries. The show contained fifteen
38 A PLACE IN THE SUN
2.13
Walter Ufer, A Discussion,
1926. Oil on canvas; 40 × 50 in.
(101.6 × 127 cm).
Private collection
paintings. Ufer had come full circle . . . from
rejection in 1913 to acceptance fifteen years
later.48
In the late twenties, Ufer was able to
maintain a balance in his checkbook largely
because of the several paintings he sold to
dealers, notably Grand Central and Macbeth
galleries. Dealers began buying paintings, as
though speculating on futures, anticipating Ufer’s
continued plunge into the depths of alcoholic
oblivion. Between 1927 and 1930, Grand Central
Galleries acquired or sold twenty-six paintings,
his single largest sale being Jim and His
Daughter. In 1928, Macbeth Galleries acquired
six paintings.49
Despite gallery sales, Ufer knew his career
was declining. And yet instead of wintering in
Taos with his peers, painting with or without
electricity, running water, or a modern sanitary
2.14
Walter Ufer, Luncheon
at Lone Locust, 1923.
Oil on canvas; 40 × 50 in.
(101.6 × 127 cm). The Principia
Collections, Principia College,
Elsah, Illinois

39


system, he continued his pattern of hobnobbing
with his drinking cronies in the comfort of their
homes and at Chicago’s New Bismarck Hotel. 50
Whether or not he had money, he spent without
concern for tomorrow. In Chicago he ran up huge
lodging and transportation bills.
When he was in Taos, he continued to paint,
occasionally creating a canvas of consequence.
More often than not, however, the quality of
his paintings was a faint memory of what he
had achieved a decade earlier. An out-of-control
Ufer convinced himself that he could recover
by creating important works of art while retiring
his mountain of debts. Instead, his addictions
worsened, a condition compounded by the Great
Depression.
In 1929, he planned an extended trip to
Houston to attend his solo exhibition organized
40 A PLACE IN THE SUN
2.15
Walter Ufer, Jim and His
Daughter, 1921. Oil on canvas;
25 × 30 in. (63.5 × 76.2 cm).
National Cowboy and Western Heritage
Museum, Oklahoma City
by Grand Central Galleries. Needing funds for
the trip, Ufer obtained, through William Klauer,
a loan from the Union Trust and Savings Bank
in Dubuque, in addition to a personal loan.
Although Ufer had outlined a modest trip, by the
time he returned to Taos in September 1930, he
had spent more than eight months on the road
and quickly consumed the entire sum loaned to
him. He did, however, make some sales, notably
of Man with a Pumpkin to the Houston Museum
of Fine Arts.
The next several years were not productive
artistically. Upon his return, he painted The
Southwest, his largest painting for the next four
years. He was able, by borrowing heavily from
William Klauer, to gather enough paintings for
solo exhibitions at Babcock Galleries in New
York in January 1931 and the Currier Gallery in
2.16
Walter Ufer, The
Southwest, 1930. Oil on
canvas; 40.125 × 51.875 in.
(101.92 × 131.76 cm). Desert
Caballeros Western Art Museum,
Wickenburg, Arizona
Manchester, New Hampshire, in May or June of
that year. He also had solo shows at Stendahl
51
Galleries in Los Angeles and the Moore Galleries
in San Francisco. While he continued to write
frantic letters to Klauer pleading for money, Mary
and Walter were traveling together, apparently
living beyond their means.
After 1931, Walter would spend the
remainder of his life confined to Taos. He was
52
painting little and sleeping late. Ufer socialized
with Bob Abbott, Jim Mirabal, and others at
Mike’s Bar and Bill James’s Kit Carson Trading
Post. Students from around the country
continued to take private lessons from Ufer, who
by all accounts was still an excellent teacher. At
night, Ufer spent his time as a political activist,
supporting cause after cause, fighting fascism
(Ufer and Mary were both members of the
Communist Party);53 advocating for Professor
Eugene Brown, a black artist denied admission
to the Oklahoma Artists Association; and, during
his final days, writing to Stuart Davis in support
and as the regional director of the United Artists
Congress. Despite frequent denials in letters to
friends and patrons, he accepted commissions
from the federally supported Public Works of Art
Project.54
Mary spent month after month on the road,
searching for teaching positions or lectures
to generate some income. In Taos, Ufer’s
alcoholism grew so severe that Mary wrote to
Klauer: “Walter has completely broken down . . .
it might not be too late if he was immediately put
into a hospital.”55 Fortunately, Ufer’s longtime
friend, artist Gustave Baumann, who reported
that “Ufer’s ability as a painter had been
A BIOGRAPHY OF WALTER UFER 41

completely effaced by drink,” twice drove Walter
to the Woodcroft Hospital in Pueblo, Colorado,
to take the Keeley Cure.56 On their second trip,
Baumann’s vehicle struck a young boy in Costilla,
eventually leading to the boy’s death. After the
57
accident, Ufer never drank again.
42 A PLACE IN THE SUN
2.17
Walter Ufer, Lonesome
Song, 1936. Oil on canvas;
30 × 25 in. (76.2 × 63.5 cm).
Private collection
Surviving on ginger ale and saltwater
taffy, a sober Ufer returned to the easel with
purpose and passion, and a renewed effort
to paint a masterwork that would return him
to the forefront of American art.58 During the
frigid winter of 1934–35, Ufer repeatedly drove

2.18
Walter Ufer with Lonesome
Song, 1936. Photograph. Speed
Art Museum, Louisville, Kentucky
Bob Abbott and Jim Mirabal to the property
behind the Mabel Dodge Luhan compound.
Dressed in sweaters, coats, helmet hat, gloves,
a scarf, and standing next to a kerosene stove,
Ufer painted Bob Abbott and His Assistant.59
The remarkable plein air picture focused on
Ufer’s old, worn-out Reo, a touring car that
was once a showpiece on the Don Fernando
Plaza. With Bob Abbott and His Assistant, Ufer
demonstrated that, once again, he was capable
of painting a serious canvas.
Ufer’s last canvas of note was Lonesome
Song. Prophetically, in a letter to Harrison, with
whom Walter had made amends, the artist
wrote, “My best work is gone, though my
work is improving with age.”60 Tragically, while
Ufer recognized his fallibility and was looking
to the future, he developed appendicitis.
On August 2, 1936, Walter Ufer died from
peritonitis in St. Vincent Hospital in Santa Fe.
Stuart Davis eulogized Walter Ufer,
calling him “a man whose spirit was the
living expression of the unflinching honesty
and integrity which alone can assure the
progress in America.”61 But it was Regina
Tatum Cooke, one of his most devoted art
students, writing for Taos Valley News,
who offered one of the most important
sentiments concerning Ufer’s life. Although
Ufer had excelled as an artist, the years
before his untimely death saw “the other
Ufer” surfacing. Cooke described the Ufer
she knew as “a humanitarian, who was a
believer in social justice, a defender in the
right of every man to sufficient food, shelter,
clothing, and opportunity for growth.” He was
a leader in the fight “against war, Fascism,
the greed and intolerance.” He opposed the
“exploitation of workers” and was sincere
in “his belief in economic and intellectual
freedom.”62 In the end, Ufer’s success was
not measured by the demons that plagued
him. Rather he was and should continue to be
judged by his commitment to his causes and,
most importantly, his art.
A BIOGRAPHY OF WALTER UFER 43
 NOTES

1. As early as 1850, 7,537 German-born immigrants typewritten letter at 2:30 a.m. In its exacting detail, the
had settled in Louisville. Carol Bonura, “Walter Ufer,” reader has the feeling that Ufer was interested in having
unpublished manuscript (Louisville, Ky.: J. B. Speed this letter read by others besides Purinton. The artists of
Art Museum, 1995), 2. Bonura’s manuscript contains Taos were conscious of their place in history, evidenced
invaluable information regarding Walter Ufer’s early life in by the documents that have survived them.
Louisville and is the source of information in this chapter, 10. Ufer autobiography, 3.
for which I am particularly grateful. 11. Ibid.
2. N
 o record has surfaced to explain why Ufer claimed 12. Ufer to Purinton, 2.
Louisville as his birthplace even though he continually 13. Ufer autobiography, 4.
expressed his love for Germany. Bonura, “Walter Ufer,” 14. Ufer to Purinton, 2.
10–11, has suggested that Ufer eschewed his birthplace 15. Ibid., 5.
with the outbreak of World War I, when being a German 16. Ibid.
American became a major threat to his very existence. 17. Ibid., 6.
The names of people, streets, banks, and so on “were 18. Ibid., 12.
changed to sound less German.” “Sauerkraut became 19. Ibid.
liberty cabbage, and frankfurter, hot dog.” “Anyone speak- 20. Ibid.
ing German was stigmatized” and German newspapers 21. Ufer to Purinton, 17.
and books were burned. 22. Walter Ufer to Mary Ufer, July 10, 1911, Ufer Papers.
3. Bonura, “Walter Ufer,” 10. According to Bonura, “The 23. Ufer autobiography, 12.
Forty-Eighters emerged throughout Europe in 1848 as a 24. J. Ogden Armour to Walter Ufer, April 13, 1911, Ufer
result of revolutions to banish the oppression of the upper Papers.
class. The unsuccessful often immigrated to the United 25. Ufer autobiography, 12.
States seeking liberty, democracy, and national unity from 26. Ufer to Purinton, 19.
the oppression they experienced in Germany and Central 27. Broder, Taos, 221.
Europe” (11–12). 28. Ufer to Purinton, 19.
4. Ibid. 29. Lena McCauley, Chicago Evening Post, September 13,
5. Walter Ufer to Robert B. Harshe, director, Art Institute 1913, Ufer Papers.
of Chicago, October 21, 1922, Art Institute Records, Art 30. Mary Ufer to Walter Ufer, December 13, 1913, Ufer Papers.
Institute of Chicago Archives. 31. Ibid.
6. W
 alter Ufer, Autobiographical Sketch, ca. 1922, p. 1, 32. “Exhibit by Chicago Artist,” El Palacio 2, no. 2 (1914): 8.
Artists’ Correspondence Collection, the Frick Collection, 33. W
 alter Ufer to Carter H. Harrison, Jr., February 22, 1915,
Frick Art Reference Library Archives (hereafter Ufer Ufer Papers.
autobiography). 34. Carter H. Harrison, Jr., to Walter Ufer. May 23, 1915. Ufer
7. P
 atricia Janis Broder, Taos: A Painter’s Dream (Boston: Papers.
New York Graphic Society, 1980), 218. 35. R
 obert Rankin White, “E. Martin Hennings,” in Pioneer
8. Ufer to Harshe. Artists of Taos, rev. and expanded ed., ed. Laura M.
9. W
 alter also worked for the Kentucky Lithographic Bickerstaff (Denver, Colo.: Old West Publishing, 1983),
Company. Walter Ufer to Ms. Virginia R. Purinton, 197.
Rockford College, Rockford, Illinois, May 16, 1935, 2. A 36. “
 Artist’s Corner,” Taos Valley News, February 26, 1918,
copy of the Purinton letter is held in the Art Institute of quoting the Chicago Times.
Chicago Archives and is also included in the Walter Ufer 37. Lloyd D. Lewis, “News and Views in World of Art, Some
Papers, University of Notre Dame Archives, Indiana. This Glimpses of Walter Ufer, Chicago,” Chicago Herald
invaluable document records Ufer’s early life in his own Examiner, February 3, 1917, William H. Klauer Family
words. Written over twenty years later, it records recol- Papers, University of Notre Dame Archives, Indiana.
lections of his youth. While there is evidence to dispute 38. Carter H. Harrison, Jr., to Walter Ufer, October 31, 1916,
some of his words, notably his birthplace, Ufer’s letter Ufer Papers.
to Purinton helps us to better understand Ufer the artist 39. H
 irschl and Adler Galleries, Lines of Different Character:
and Ufer the person. Purinton was a student at Rockford American Art from 1727 to 1947, exhibition catalogue
College and was writing a paper on Ufer. His response (New York: Hirschl and Adler Galleries, 1982), 87.
to Ms. Purinton is graphic evidence of Ufer’s interest 40. “Walter Ufer Likes New York,” Chicago Tribune, April 17,
in young people. Ufer finished this twenty-one-page 1919.

44 A PLACE IN THE SUN

 41. Stephen L. Good, “Walter Ufer: Munich to Taos,
1913–1918,” in Bickerstaff, Pioneer Artists of Taos, 168.
42. Interestingly, the much coveted First Altman Prize was
given to the most important painting by an American-born
artist.
43. E
 rnest L. Blumenschein, “Introduction to the Original
[1954] Edition,” in Bickerstaff, Pioneer Artists of Taos,
25–26.
44. Dealer John E. D. Trask, a former museum director,
included Ufer in his stable of artists, representing the
artist for the period of 1919 through 1923. Trask was
successful in placing Ufer’s paintings in major museums,
notably the Brooklyn Museum, the Pennsylvania
Academy of the Fine Arts, the Corcoran Gallery of Art,
and the Baltimore Museum of Art, among others. In
1926, Ufer boasted to his niece Christine Frederiksen
that he had paintings in most of America’s art museums
on the East Coast. When Trask resigned as Ufer’s agent,
his sales to public museums declined. In 1926, Trask
died after a short directorship of the Milwaukee Art
Museum. Walter Ufer to Christy Frederiksen, 1926, Ufer
Papers.
45. Carter H. Harrison, Jr., to Walter Ufer, June 25, 1926, Ufer
Papers.
46. Walter Ufer to Elmer Corn, October [n.d.] 1935, Ufer
Papers.
47. Ufer sold only three paintings from Taos Society of Artists
circuit exhibitions, all in 1919, Ufer Papers.
48. F
 rom Ufer’s ledger, 1926–1931, Ufer Papers: The House
on the Hill, Meditation, and Self-Portrait were three of the
fifteen paintings shown.
49. Ibid.
50. T
 he Bismarck Hotel was a popular hangout for the
Harrison crowd. According to his son William, when
Klauer made his frequent trips from Dubuque to Chicago,
he stayed there. Klauer interview by author, December
1995 and after, in his Dubuque home.
51. T
 his information is based on Ufer’s ledger and letters to
William Klauer. Paintings from the Currier Gallery show
were shipped to Dubuque. W. S. Budworth and Son
shipped eight paintings: Man with an Olla, Mi Casa, Winter
in New Mexico (ca.1930), My Model at Rest, The Artist,
Acequia Madre, My Studio Courtyard, and A Yearling.
W. S. Budworth and Son to William Klauer, July 2, 1931,
Klauer Family Papers.
52. M
 ary repeatedly asked Ufer to join her in Chicago, where
they could live more affordably. She had developed a keen
dislike for Taos.
53. Both Ufers were enamored with Russia, obviously
unaware of the atrocities Stalin was committing.
54. Ufer for years claimed he would never accept federal
assistance. He reasoned that it would destroy his market
because his patrons would know how little they could buy
his paintings for. He became so destitute, however, that
he gave in, accepting federal assistance. Unfortunately, by
1934, Ufer was incapable of painting. He couldn’t satisfy
his contract. Gustave Baumann interceded and somehow
got the federal officials to accept a painting that Ufer had
done in 1930, Blaze and Buckskin.
55. Mary Ufer to William Klauer, March 8, 1935, Ufer Papers.
56. Gustave Baumann, “Report to the PWAP,” 1934, Ufer
Papers.
57. T
 he boy, Tony, and his friend were rolling hoops and ran in
front of Baumann’s car. “Costilla Boy Hit by Baumann Dies
March 5,” Taos Valley News, March 15, 1934.
58. B
 enita Peralta, interview by author, Teresa Hayes Ebie,
Elizabeth Cunningham, and Skip Miller, Taos, October 15,
1995.
59. The painting was originally called Two Workers.
60. Walter Ufer to Carter H. Harrison, Jr., April 28, 1936, Ufer
Papers.
61. “Vale,” New York Times, August 16, 1936.
62. “Illness is Fatal to Walter Ufer,” Taos Valley News,
August 6, 1936.
A BIOGRAPHY OF WALTER UFER 45
 3 WALTER UFER’S YEARS OF CRITICAL SUCCESS
(Detail)
Walter Ufer, Sleep, 1922.
(See figure 3.22, page 72)
A Painter Characterized by His Time and Place
Thomas Brent Smith
Today, Walter Ufer is known more as an
exaggerated character than as the brilliant painter
he once was. The prideful, ever ambitious,
politically radical tragic hero whose flaws
ultimately undermined his talents has long been
his enduring legacy. Although sensationalized,
this image grew in the years following his death.
This reputation, however, should not be the
last word on an artist who at the pinnacle of
his career could legitimately claim to be one of
America’s finest painters.
Beginning with his first visit to New Mexico
in 1914, gaining momentum in 1916 that lasted
until around 1923, Ufer created a body of work
that upon review stands as a testament to his
talents and genius. The artist’s most important
works came in the decade following the famed
Armory Show of 1913, which introduced
American audiences to international modern art
movements for the first time. Just as America
evolved from the Victorian era to a decidedly
industrial one, American artists struggled to
reconcile academic traditions and modern art
movements. In one of America’s most isolated
regions, where industrialization was minimized
yet simultaneously strikingly apparent, Ufer
met many of the same challenges as his
contemporaries in urban areas. It is within this
shift, both artistic and societal, that the mercurial
Ufer found his muse in the small southwestern
village of Taos.
Any attempt to survey Ufer’s work can easily
be sidetracked by the challenge of unraveling
his complicated personality, a complication
47
enhanced by the fact that he was German born
at a time when the United States, his country of
citizenship, was at war with Germany. My aim
is not to ignore his character, but to consider the
artistic merit of his greatest accomplishments
during his years of critical success, to place the
painter within the context of his time and his
contemporaries in American art.
When Walter Ufer boarded a Chicago train
bound for New Mexico in 1914 he was unaware
that his impending journey would forever change
the direction of his life and work. Although he
had not yet found critical success as a painter,
Ufer, then thirty-eight years of age, was fully
mature in his artistic training. He had returned the
previous year from his second stint of studying
art in Germany. Confident that he had the ability
and training to succeed as a painter, he was still
searching for the answer to the most important
question: what to paint? Ufer needed direction
and a subject to match his abilities.
While studying in Germany, Ufer developed
a distinctive style of painting based on the
principles of the alla prima, or wet-on-wet,
technique. A direct and unpredictable way of
painting, working alla prima requires the artist to
paint quickly, often creating a finished work in
a single sitting. A practice with a long tradition
throughout Europe, the technique experienced a
rise in popularity in the mid-nineteenth century
due in part to the impressionists. Americans like
William Merritt Chase and Frank Duveneck, who
studied in Munich years before Ufer, coupled the
technique with a dark, brooding, moody palette.1
 By the time Ufer arrived in Munich, plein air
painting, or painting outdoors, had also become
popular. Ufer became an ardent practitioner of
both the alla prima and plein air painting practices
for the entirety of his career. He was not the lone
American using the alla prima style during this
time. A group of New York–based artists, led
by Robert Henri and including George Bellows
and Leon Kroll, among others, was adapting the
technique to gritty urban subjects, developing
a distinct brand of what was then modern
American painting.2
When Ufer visited New Mexico in
1914, it was the first time the artist had the
unencumbered freedom to paint as he liked. He
adjusted his palette to the bright, clear light of
the Southwest, while continuing to search for
direction.3 As Ufer was tempted by antiquated
subjects, he received a suggestion from his
patron Carter Harrison, Jr., “All the artists who
have worked around Taos have done exactly the
same line of work, namely; [have] gone back
into the past for their methods of treatment of
the Indian types. It seems to me that abundant
artistic material could be found in painting the
Indians as they are today—plowing with their
scrubby Indian ponies, digging in the fields, on
horseback, and lying around the pueblo. This 3.01
phase of the Indian life has not yet received Among the most ambitious works Ufer Walter Ufer, A Daughter
of San Juan Pueblo, 1914.
artistic treatment. The hunting with bows and completed on his first visit to New Mexico was
Oil on canvas; 30 × 25 in.
arrows, stalking game in the costumes of the the portrait A Daughter of San Juan Pueblo. (76.2 × 63.5 cm). Private
past, etc. have been done to death by talented Completed in situ, the portrait of a young woman collection

men.” The timely advice reminded the artist

4
that he was at heart a genre painter. His Munich
training, thorough in the practice of realism
in painting portraiture and the modern world,
forever tied him to the tradition of genre painting.
In the coming years, genre scenes were a way
for Ufer to separate himself from the other artists
living and painting in Taos, especially those of an
older generation. Ufer was experiencing a place
unlike anywhere he had visited before and he
was quickly finding inspiration. “Every spot and
corner is a picture,” wrote the artist, “and every
figure, whether Indian or Mexican, is a study.”5
dressed in her finest clothing and jewelry recalls
the artist’s Bavarian portraits painted during his
student years in Munich.6 A Daughter of San Juan
Pueblo possesses the bravura brushwork and
direct realism of Ufer’s earlier painting Tyrolean
Woman; however, in the later work, the painter
adjusts his palette to the southwestern light.
While New Mexico—its subjects, atmosphere,
and culture—was a new experience for Ufer,
he fell back on the familiar, choosing portraiture
for the subject of his larger works. But unlike
his earlier German portraits, Ufer depicts his
Indian model in a distinctive, specific landscape

48 A PLACE IN THE SUN

inclusive of both a Native American adobe
structure and a Catholic church. The work is
telling of the types of subjects that interested
the artist. Almost instantly, Ufer realized the
complexity of his new surroundings. The young
Pueblo woman is wholly American; however, in
the background stands a reminder of Europe—
Catholicism brought to the Southwest by the
Spanish. Within this same paradox, Ufer saw
himself; he was German born and trained
in Europe but was driven to become a great
American painter. 7
Ufer’s personal world was exciting and
new in the American Southwest, but the world
beyond was in turmoil. Not long after Ufer
arrived in New Mexico, the first shots were
fired of what became the First World War.
Germany—the country of Ufer’s birth, a second
home to which he was emotionally connected
from his years of living and studying in Munich,
and a culture that he greatly admired for its
artistic accomplishments—was at the center
of an unprecedented war. The remoteness of
northern New Mexico would have likely kept
Ufer relatively in the dark about the events in
Europe, and he wouldn’t have known the severity
of the international situation until he returned to
Chicago in mid-November. The artist must have
been torn; his excitement about the creative
possibilities in the Southwest would have been
tempered by his worry over the war in Europe.
Upon his return to Chicago, Ufer began
searching for opportunities to exhibit his recent
paintings, and his career quickly began making
positive strides. Three of his New Mexico
paintings, including A Daughter of San Juan
Pueblo, were selected for inclusion in the
American section of the 1915 Panama-Pacific
International Exposition in San Francisco.8
Further, two of Ufer’s paintings were included in
the Annual Exhibition of Artists of Chicago and
Vicinity at the Art Institute of Chicago. 9
In Chicago, Ufer spent his time promoting
his work and joining ostensibly every art
association available, whether harmonious with
his ideals or not. He tried for membership at the
National Academy and joined several similarly
conservative organizations, simultaneously
becoming a member of more progressive
and modern associations. As contradictory as
his efforts may at first seem, this was not an
uncommon strategy for American artists during
this period. Many young artists were at once
beholden to the established paradigms of the
art world, while likewise evolving within a more
modern scene. For Ufer, his European training
and the importance he placed on technical skill
would forever align him with the traditional
system; however, he saw himself as modern,
believing deeply in an artist’s independence to
paint as he pleased. This philosophy influenced
Ufer’s work; with great technical skill acquired in
the German academic system, the artist depicted
a contemporary America in the Southwest.
Ufer’s seemingly inconsistent ideologies
were not reserved for art. The war in Europe was
of great complexity for Ufer, as it was for most
Americans, particularly those within the German
American community. Although many Germans
immigrated because of political pressures, they
still felt a connection to their mother country.
A conflicted Ufer donated to the German and
Austro-Hungarian Relief Society for the Benefit
of Crippled Soldiers, but also donated to Appui
aux Artistes (Aid to Artists), benefiting French
artists whose livelihood had been interfered with
on account of the war.10
Back in New Mexico, Ufer further expanded
his visual lexicon beyond portraits to include
elements of the region’s distinctive culture.
With directness, the artist painted El Santuario
de Chimayó (The Sanctuary of Chimayo), with a
mother, father, and child entering the courtyard
of the church. Among his first works depicting
Hispanic culture, the painting conveyed that
Catholicism was generational, having descended
through families. The Chimayo church was then
more than a century old; it was first built around
1810 and reconstructed by 1816.11 A sacred
pilgrimage site, the adobe structure appears to
WALTER UFER’S YEARS OF CRITICAL SUCCESS 49
 3.02
Walter Ufer, Oferta para San
Esquipula, 1916. Oil on canvas;
25 × 30 in. (63.5 × 76.2 cm).
Collection of Janis and Dennis Lyon

50

3.03
Walter Ufer, The Solemn
Pledge, Taos Indians, 1916.
Oil on canvas; 40.125 × 36.25 in.
(101.92 × 92.08 cm). Art Institute
of Chicago, Friends of American Art
Collection (1916.441)
have risen from the ground, an effect enhanced
by the artist’s use of organic lines.
Ufer sent Oferta para San Esquipula and five
additional works back to Chicago for inclusion
in the Art Institute’s annual show. Among them
was his largest and most ambitious southwestern
canvas to date, titled The Solemn Pledge,
Taos Indians. With this work, Ufer played to
his strengths, executing a multifigure portrait
bathed in midday light. His years of academic
12
study, drawing, and painting of the human form
and drapery paid dividends. As in Oferta para
San Esquipula, Ufer was drawn to the subject
of familial generations. Three generations of
Taos men stand in a beautiful Taos landscape
on a summer day. Two figures and a child wear
matching white robes. These figures overlap
and are justified to the right side of the canvas,
suggesting they are in agreement. The fourth
man, and the sole figure occupying the left side
of the canvas, wears a contemporary collared
yellow shirt and attentively listens to the group.
The eldest figure stares directly at the viewer,
capturing our attention and leaving us with an
uneasy voyeuristic feeling of eavesdropping on a
private discussion. Ufer depicts the robed figures
facing forward, while the man on the left and
the child are seen in profile, creating a circle. The
viewer remains outside the group, establishing the
barrier between Native society and outsiders. This
spherical composition entices speculation about
the topic of their discussion and the intended
meaning of the title, The Solemn Pledge.
The painting is known to depict a father’s
vow to commit his young son to kiva instruction
and initiation, a ceremonial pledge.13 Another
grave pledge was central to contemporary
discourse, however: America’s pledge to stay
out of the war in Europe. As war erupted,
President Woodrow Wilson formally proclaimed
the neutrality of the United States, voicing his
desire that America “be impartial in thought as
well as action.”14 In the Presidential election year
of 1916, neutrality remained Wilson’s sworn
platform, the country’s popular position, and
foremost on the minds of Americans of German
descent, including Ufer.15
The Solemn Pledge is the first of what appears
to be a series of works that are inextricably tied to
contemporary events, in particular the First World
War. Ufer’s strong political opinions, coupled with
the long-standing tradition of American genre
scenes as platforms for artists’ commentary on
contemporary issues, invites a consideration of
symbolic meaning in his work. With only a few
exceptions, the artist does not describe his intent.
Yet, the rare instances in which he does articulate
a message beyond his strict realism give evidence
that his paintings are more than just technical
feats. Particularly during his most creative years,
the artist engaged with urgent issues of his time.16
He was an artist whose work was reflective not
only of place but also of time.
Prophetically, Harrison wrote to Ufer after
visiting the Annual Exhibition of American Oil
WALTER UFER’S YEARS OF CRITICAL SUCCESS 51
 Paintings and Sculpture at the Art Institute in 3.04
Art Institute of Chicago 1916
1916, “they [your paintings] are all good. The
exhibition including Walter
big one [The Solemn Pledge, Taos Indians] is a Ufer, The Solemn Pledge—
corker. You ought to hit the public right between Taos Indians (1915), far
left, and Leon Kroll, The
the eyes this year!”17 The painting was awarded Gay Bridge (ca. 1915), far
the Martin B. Cahn Prize for best work by a right. Photograph. Leon Kroll
Papers, Archives of American Art,
Chicago artist, garnering Ufer local attention and
Smithsonian Institution
assurance that his efforts were finally paying
off. The painting was purchased by the Friends
of American Art for the Art Institute. This first
award at a juried exhibition and first painting
acquired by a museum marked the beginning
of the artist’s ascendence into the ranks of
America’s most important painters.
Exhibiting in annual competitive exhibitions
not only gave Ufer exposure but allowed him to
measure himself against America’s best painters.
The entries in the 1916 Art Institute of Chicago
exhibition were mostly bucolic scenes painted
in an impressionist mode, typified by the works
of well-known painters like Frederick Frieseke,
who received the competition’s highest honor
for painting, and Childe Hassam.18 Distinctive to
the Chicago show was the inclusion of artists
who worked in western subjects, in particular
several California impressionists. Yet, there were
also works by more modern painters. Ufer would
find himself sharing more in common with the
latter artists but occupying a space between
the impressionist works and those with a more
brazen palette. For example, The Solemn Pledge
would be presented on the same wall as Leon
Kroll’s The Gay Bridge. Both paintings possess a
heightened palette, Ufer’s painting being in a high
key while adhering to the boundaries of expected
reality. Kroll, however, takes more risks with his
color, in what could be described as a restrained
fauvism. Water remains blue, grass is still green,
but they are deeply saturated in an effort to
express the merriness of the scene. 3.05
The most daring work in the exhibition Leon Kroll, The Gay Bridge,
ca. 1915. Oil on canvas;
was George Bellows’s painting The Sawdust 35 × 41 in. (88.9 × 104.1 cm).
Trail. Completed with a group of works for Philbrook Museum of Art, Tulsa,
Oklahoma, gift of David L. Barry and
a Metropolitan magazine commission, the Gloria B. Barry (2010.10) © 2015
enormous painting documents the contemporary Philbrook Museum of Art, Inc., Tulsa,
Oklahoma

52 A PLACE IN THE SUN


phenomenon of revivals and the evangelical
Reverend Billy Sunday. The Sawdust Trail may at
first glance appear to have little in common with
Ufer’s The Solemn Pledge, certainly in style or
execution, but the paintings share a philosophical
interest. Both Bellows and Ufer saw themselves
as social commentators. The conversion of
sinners by evangelicals in Philadelphia was as
provocative a topic for Bellows as committing
a son to kiva instruction was for Ufer in Taos.
The paintings share artist as observer and
documenter of issues critical to the time and
unique to their place.
3.06
George Wesley Bellows,
The Sawdust Trail, 1916.
Oil on canvas; 63 × 45.125 in.
(160.02 × 114.62 cm). Layton
Art Collection, Inc., at the Milwaukee
Art Museum (L1964.7)
The artist whose work was the most
ideologically aligned with Ufer was Robert
Henri, with his portrait of the Spanish dancer
Betalo Rubino. This work, which dwarfed Ufer’s
portrait in size and presence, held true to the
shared philosophies of alla prima painting and
portraiture. Unlike The Solemn Pledge, Henri’s
Betalo Rubino, Dramatic Dancer, is an interior
scene with an abstract background that disguises
any specifics of place. Its bright colors are
tempered by her dark dress and background
shadows. More important than these differences
are that both artists preferred working-class
WALTER UFER’S YEARS OF CRITICAL SUCCESS 53

3.07
Robert Henri, Betalo
Rubino, Dramatic
Dancer, 1916. Oil on
canvas; 77.25 × 37.25 in.
(196.21 × 94.61 cm). Saint Louis
Art Museum (841:1920)
54 A PLACE IN THE SUN
portrait subjects, whether dancers or Native
American laborers. They were drawn to people
who possessed artistic talents, in Henri’s case
a dancer, and for Ufer, Native American women
with fine jewelry or pottery. Although Ufer
was more restrained in his execution and color
choices than his contemporaries Henri, Bellows,
or Kroll, they shared ideologies and the struggle
for a successful confluence of academic tradition
and modern painting.19
Requests for The Solemn Pledge, Taos
Indians for additional exhibitions would soon
follow. After the award-winner’s acquisition by
the Art Institute, Ufer needed to find suitable
paintings for exhibition that would match his
recently found success. One of those paintings
was In the Land of Mañana, painted in 1916.20
Another multifigure work in a midday landscape,
the painting is less a portrait than a genre scene.
In the Munich tradition, its execution combines
florid brushwork with direct realism. Complete
with the artist’s first integration of still-life
elements—pottery and blankets—its figures are
better integrated into the landscape; they lean
against an adobe wall doing nothing. For Ufer
the scene likely typified everyday life in New
Mexico. Commonly known today as the Land
of Enchantment, New Mexico is colloquially
called the Land of Mañana. The phrase doesn’t
directly translate as simply “Land of Tomorrow”
but rather implies “Not Today.” The painting’s
exoticism embodied by the remote setting and its
disparity from the urban society where it was first
exhibited further solidified Ufer as a painter of the
Southwest. The idea that time is of secondary
concern was of personal importance to the
painter. Unlike the hectic urban environment of
Chicago, which easily distracted Ufer, Taos was
proving itself a place to escape and work. The
artist was finding not only a muse, but conditions
that supported his artistic efforts and career.
Ufer entered In the Land of Mañana in the
1917 Art Institute Annual Exhibition of Artists
of Chicago and Vicinity, where it won the
Frank G. Logan Medal for best work by a Cook
3.08
Walter Ufer, In the Land of
Mañana, 1916. Oil on canvas;
36 × 40 in. (91.44 × 101.6 cm).
Union League Club of Chicago

55

 County (Chicago-area) artist. Two consecutive
major awards prompted the Herald Examiner to
proclaim Ufer “Chicago’s biggest figure in art
today,” describing him as: “Radical in opinions,
kind-eyed and grit-teethed, Ufer is a personality.
He has the temperament of a modern, but
enough of the balance of tradition hang on in
him somewhere to keep him from the shoals of
obscurity. . . . He is a rebel of the old, dull, order
but he is not a futurist. Ufer is a modern already
past the question stage. He is understood.”21
Obviously, the artist struck a balance
between modern thought and execution and
his traditional training. That balance is evident
in From the Rooftops, painted in 1916. Two
Native American men in discussion and
another climbing to the rooftop to join them are
integrated into the vast landscape of Ranchos
de Taos, a small community just south of Taos, 3.09
identifiable here by the inclusion of its iconic San on a hilltop amid a majestic landscape that Ufer Walter Ufer, From the
Rooftops, 1916. Oil on
Francisco de Asis Mission Church. Although the couldn’t resist including in his works.
canvas; 25.25 × 30.25 in.
painting is grounded in direct realism, it is as Her Daughter depicts two female figures (64.14 × 76.84 cm). Private
much about design as about any literal subject. in distinct Pueblo dress in the forefront of the collection

Composed from an elevated perspective, the
background is distilled into two distinct planes:
the bright blue sky that occupies the top two-
thirds of the composition, and below, the ground
and adobe structures that are the same buttery
yellow. Ufer effectively minimizes his color
choices to the primary palette of red, blue, and
yellow, with a single large swath of secondary
color, green, making for a bold design. Adhering
to the complementary color scheme is the red
and green, and the yellow with a small band of
purple, of the Native American’s commercial
trade blanket in the forefront of the painting; this
focus on color and design exemplifies the artist’s
modern tendencies.
With a new outlook based on his recent
success, Ufer painted fewer but larger,
more substantial paintings, undoubtedly for
competition. Among those painted at Laguna
22
were Her Daughter and his largest canvas to
date, The Bakers. Surrounded by mesas and a
number of water sources, Laguna Pueblo sits
picture plane. Similar to The Solemn Pledge,
the figures are shown from the waist up; they
are simultaneously akin to the landscape yet
not wholly united. It is a painting of people and
landscape rather than people in landscape. The
artist goes to great lengths to fully delineate
details of the land and the figures, keeping
them separate. Across the arroyo, atop the hill,
sits Laguna Pueblo, grounding the scene in a
particular place, yet the blooming clouds and
distant rainstorm suggest the sheer vastness
of the landscape. Again, Ufer returns to familial
relationships for his subject; this we know
from the painting’s title. The daughter wears a
commercial trade blouse with a Pueblo, likely
Hopi, belt and Navajo squash blossom necklace,
while the mother wears a plaid shawl that is
delicately painted, a testament to the artist’s
skill. He may be depicting these women not
simply as water carriers, but as fashionable and
(in their community) sophisticatedly dressed,
evidenced by articles acquired through trade

56 A PLACE IN THE SUN

3.10
Walter Ufer, Her Daughter,
1917. Oil on canvas; 36 × 40 in.
(91.44 × 101.6 cm). Collection
of the Rockford Art Museum,
Rockford, Illinois

57

 and commerce. The women carry large pots
on their heads, the designs of which are so
well replicated that it’s obvious Ufer spent time
with the objects and was attracted to them
as highly crafted works of art. These are not
average utilitarian pots but are exemplary objects
suggestive of the women’s status. For the
people of New Mexico’s pueblos, pottery was a
familial and generational art form rather than an
individual venture, passed down from mothers to
daughters and primarily practiced by women.
Another communal activity practiced by
women was baking bread, the subject for Ufer’s
ambitious The Bakers. The women baking are
arranged in a pyramidal composition in the
picture’s foreground, again set in the landscape
around Laguna Pueblo. Baking with open fire is
a laborious task made even more stringent by
the summer heat. This genre scene employs
direct realism with which it seems Ufer hoped
to be honest and forthright. The uncomplicated
composition reveals the artist’s animated and
expressive brushwork. Ufer obviously intended 3.11
this work for competition: he was freeing calmly sits atop his brown steed while the other Walter Ufer, The
himself to paint and was less deliberate in holds its reins. Dressed in a bright blue shirt and Bakers, 1917. Oil on
canvas; 50.25 × 50.25 in.
design and content choices. Maybe he was yellow shawl, with red ribbons in his braids, the (127.63 × 127.63 cm). Private
proving to himself that he could retain his bravura other man stands with a blanket in his hand, collection

brushwork on a large canvas.
Taos Plaza, New Mexico is a scene of the
town’s central plaza executed in a high-keyed
palette. The town square is permeated with
light, and the color—depicted with small quick
brushstrokes—is a tapestry used to decorative
effect. Uneventful and quiet, the mundane scene
populated only with horses rather than cars
signals that life in Taos is unlike that in congested
urban areas.
Unlike Taos Plaza, New Mexico, Making
Ready has a simplified palette; it is generally
monochromatic, with strategic highlights of red,
yellow, blue, and green. An adobe structure
functions like the backdrop of a set in front of
which the characters play out the narrative. Two
young Native American men are readying their
horses to ride. One, wearing a stark white shirt,
appearing very pensive. The horse’s saddle and
reins lie on the ground; it’s unresolved if this
horse is yet broken, fit to ride.
The most important work Ufer painted
in 1917 was the large canvas Going East, a
light-filled scene of a group of people from
the pueblo making an annual pilgrimage to the
sacred Blue Lake, east of the pueblo. The bold
painting exemplifies Ufer’s strengths, combining
monumental portraiture with the crisp colors of
the New Mexico landscape. Ufer’s brushwork
is confident, expressive, and animated, with
passages so abstract that the joy the artist takes
in the act of painting shines through.
The joy Ufer must have felt, knowing he was
creating works beyond any he had yet painted,
would have been disrupted by the announcement
that Congress had voted to declare war on

58 A PLACE IN THE SUN

3.12
Walter Ufer, Taos Plaza,
New Mexico, 1917.
Oil on canvas; 30 × 30 in.
(76.2 × 76.2 cm). Gilcrease
Museum, Tulsa, Oklahoma
(0137.550)

59

 3.13
Walter Ufer, Making Ready,
1917. Oil on canvas; 30 × 36 in.
(76.2 × 91.44 cm). Private
collection

60

3.14
Walter Ufer, Going East,
1917. Oil on canvas; 50 × 50 in.
(127 × 127 cm). The Eugene B.
Adkins Collection, Philbrook Museum
of Art, Tulsa, Oklahoma, and the Fred
Jones Jr. Museum of Art, University
of Oklahoma, Norman (L2007.0125)
© 2015 Philbrook Museum of Art,
Inc., Tulsa, Oklahoma
Germany. The first American troops landed in
France at the end of June. Considering this context
and knowing Ufer’s sentiments, Going East
takes on a more nationalistic tone. America had
turned its full attention to the war in Europe, and
American soldiers were themselves going east.23
In the wake of America’s entry into the war, the
home front experienced a systematic mobilization
of the entire population, men and women, to rally
soldiers, food, supplies, munitions, and money
for the cause. Just as many of Ufer’s paintings
focus on collective communities, America was
coalescing around a single cause: the war effort.
Ufer first submitted Going East to the Art
Institute’s annual exhibition and then, in January
1918, to the National Academy of Design’s
annual exhibition. Fellow Taos artist Ernest
Blumenschein, who along with Irving Couse was
in New York for the exhibition, wrote, “Going
East is just the baby—and ought to attract a lot
of attention and put you in the Academy as an
associate.” The painting did attract attention,
winning the coveted Thomas B. Clarke Prize for
best figure painting in the exhibition, the highest
honor the artist had yet been awarded. Ufer
received the praise he’d wished for and finally
garnered the national attention he’d dreamed
of. The momentous event was dampened,
however, by the ancillary damage of the war.
Blumenschein recounted that patriotic speeches
had “left the members of the Academy in a
touchy mood regarding candidates with German
names” and told Ufer that a certain influential
landscape painter wouldn’t endorse him unless
“he knew exactly how you stood on the war—
whether you were in sympathy with the allies
or Germany before America’s entrance.”24 Ufer
was encouraged to withdraw his name from
consideration for membership.
Many Americans with German surnames
lived under a veil of suspicion, prompting an
overcompensation of patriotism. Ufer would do
his part for the war cause, buying liberty bonds,
producing propaganda posters, and, like many
of the Taos artists, painting range finders. He
later registered for the draft, carefully recounting
the details of his ancestry to the Chicago draft
board.25 For a German-born American who had
formed his artistic ideals as a student in Germany,
a country he remained forever connected to, but
also as someone who aspired to greatness for
himself and his art in America, these experiences
must have left their emotional scars.
With the war diverting the nation’s attention
from indulgences like purchasing paintings,
artists across America struggled for sales.
Back in Taos in 1918, Ufer wrote, “Art is dead
in Taos this year. Nobody doing much. War in
the Air.”26 The artist seemed to be relatively
uninspired as his output was minimal.27 Sadly,
just as he was peaking artistically, Ufer was
obstructed by events out of his control. He did
paint an engaging double portrait, however,
Me and Him, likely early in the 1918 season.
Again the artist paints his subjects from the
waist up, giving them most of the picture
surface and exaggerating their monumentality.
WALTER UFER’S YEARS OF CRITICAL SUCCESS 61
 These are imposing figures in an immense
landscape. Although depicted with the direct
realism that Ufer was known for, this portrait
takes a psychological approach. The figures’
direct gazes initiate contact with the viewer, and
although they are not inviting, the viewer is left
with little choice but to engage with these two
figures, contemplating their life experiences and
existence. To urban audiences, these subjects
would have been intriguing, if for nothing other
than their exoticism. Urban audiences might also
have noticed that, for many in New Mexico, life
still centered on agriculture, an existence vastly
different from their modern lives. The work is
a proper portrait but is painted on the artist’s
terms. These men are not of bourgeois society,
but are rather the type of men Ufer admired—
workers. Both men appear repeatedly in the
painter’s works. The figure in the pink shirt is Jim
Mirabal, Ufer’s closest Native American friend;
their friendship would last decades. The second
figure is unquestionably someone Ufer also knew
well. They are clean and tidy (obviously they
haven’t spent the morning working), testifying to
the fact that Ufer was intentionally posing them
as laborers.
Furthering problems caused by the war,
the great influenza epidemic reached Taos that
summer. One of the deadliest natural disasters
in history, the Spanish flu killed between 50 and
100 million people worldwide—many more than
were killed by the war. Ufer and Mary worked
28
tirelessly assisting the town’s only doctor treating
the townspeople. The grueling experience
29
of wartime strife compounded by widespread
illness influenced Ufer’s 1919 work Hunger.
A man and woman bend down in prayer
below a santo in a depressing scene. The
antithesis of Ufer’s usually engaging portraits
set in sunny landscapes, here the figures turn
their backs on the viewer in a dark interior. In
a consoling act, the woman’s hand rests on
the shoulder of the mourning man, whose
clasped hands rise to the top of the pyramidal
composition, pointing toward a black cross and
62 A PLACE IN THE SUN
religious figurine against a white adobe wall. The
artist’s execution of drapery and design further
directs viewers’ attention toward the crucifix,
which Ufer characterized as a “dead carved thing
[which] really can not give to anything living.” In
one of the rare times when Ufer explained his
symbolism, he wrote that the painting, despite
its use of Indian models, “has nothing to do
with Indian life” but “means the world at large.”
Hunger was a statement about the destruction
the Great War had wrought on Western
civilization. The title, Hunger, refers to the physical
hunger caused by the war, but also to mental and
spiritual hunger.30 The work was awarded the First
Altman Prize at the National Academy of Design
for artistic merit for a landscape or figure painting
by an American-born citizen.
In Their Audience, also painted in 1919,
the faces of seven women stare directly at the
viewer, instantly giving the feeling that the viewer
is not welcome. Additional people gather on
another rooftop in the painting’s upper left corner.
The spectators are gathering to view an event
below in this pueblo scene. Ufer reverses the
vantage point; those who are the audience have
become the subject. We, the viewers, look up
at this group of women; they are the audience.
Again, Ufer’s figures are monumental; they wear
attractive shawls faithfully delineated so as to
capture their wrinkles and folds, even among the
floral designs. Ufer had a talent for giving depth
to a single color through his use of lowlights
and highlights. A blue shawl, for example, might
contain lilac, cobalt, and navy. This technique,
evident in the women’s shawls, acts as a foil
against the flattened rug lying over the pueblo
roof, whose two-dimensionality appears even
more pronounced and undoubtedly intentional.
The rug is a strangely flat red, compared to the
chili peppers at left. Why would the artist choose
this technique? Is it to remind us that his work is
beyond honest realism, that it is he who controls
the artistic vision?
Painted in 1920, Luzanna [Lousanna Lujan]
and Her Sisters features two small girls and a
3.15
Walter Ufer, Me and Him,
1918. Oil on canvas; 40 × 36 in.
(101.6 × 91.44 cm).
Private collection

63

 3.16
Walter Ufer, Hunger, 1919.
Oil on canvas; 49.5 × 49.5 in.
(125.73 × 125.73 cm).
Gilcrease Museum, Tulsa, Oklahoma
(0137.2196)

64
3.17
Walter Ufer, Their
Audience, 1919. Oil
on canvas; 40 × 50 in.
(101.6 × 127 cm). Snite Museum
of Art, University of Notre Dame,
gift of the Walter and William
Klauer Family

65

 3.18
Walter Ufer, Luzanna
[Lousanna Lujan] and
Her Sisters, 1920. Oil on
canvas; 50.125 × 50.19 in.
(127.3 × 127.5 cm). The Baltimore
Museum of Art, gift of the Friends of
Art (BMA 1931.5.1)

66
young woman wrapped in solid-colored robes.
The young woman sits in the window with her
hands inside a basket, with a young child on the
floor to her right and another next to her on her
left. Although it is an interior scene, beyond the
window panes is a colorful landscape with a
wagon and horses. For a dedicated practitioner
of plein air painting, interior scenes like Hunger
and Luzanna [Lousanna Lujan] and Her Sisters
were uncharacteristic, as was the decorative
treatment of the interior wallpaper. As in many
of Ufer’s paintings, the narrative is not fully
revealed, and more questions arise than are
answered. It is to this type of unresolved scene,
where the viewer is just a voyeur into daily life
in the Southwest, that Ufer would return in the
coming years.
Through the early twenties, Ufer continued
his strategy of painting fewer but more ambitious
works. He also began trying new techniques
with some success, but the balance between
a traditional realism and elements of a modern
aesthetic always resulted in his most successful
works. As with many artists at that time, Ufer
became interested for a while in Jay Hambidge’s
analytical theory of composition known as
dynamic symmetry.31 Although the frequency and
length to which Ufer incorporated Hambidge’s
philosophies is unclear, it is likely that he used the
principle in support of his own steadfast ideals.
During this period, Ufer began to develop new,
more complex compositions. The 1920 painting
Autumn makes repeated use of the semi-circle.
This composition of a seated man and woman
resting against a tree full of decorative autumn
leaves is centered in the foreground with a large
circular black pot that rises just over the painting’s
edge. A strong semi-circular line runs across the
work, dividing the canvas into two planes, the
foreground yard and the background adobe. The
tree trunk further divides the canvas, with the
woman and her chickens occupying the right,
and the man with his dog on the left. Yet the
bottom of the tree trunk overlaps with another
circular pot that the faces point toward, which
appears to be the circle around which everything
rotates. Last, the foreground is filled with shared
pots. Even the man’s right leg extends in an
unnatural semi-circle. Ufer dropped the direct
realism and diminished the painting’s depth and
texture (most apparent in the figures’ clothes)
to create a methodical composition in which
everything has its carefully considered place.
Typical interpretation of allegorical painting would
suggest that the repeated circles relate to the
eternal cycles of life, which is likely the case in
this painting.
With the 1921 painting Near the Waterhole,
the artist again presents Jim Mirabal, this time
with his daughter, from an elevated perspective.
Another figure, with a pot on her head (presumably
for carrying water), enters the composition at the
far lower right. Ufer’s depiction of figures or still-
life elements at the boundaries of his paintings
gives his works a sense of mystery. What lies
beyond the picture plane? Although Ufer carefully
composes his works using classical centralized
compositions, he simultaneously reminds the
viewer that all of the canvas is important. The
abstract qualities of the sand, rocks, and sage
in the painting’s periphery further reinforce the
importance of the entire painting surface. The
fluidity of the artist’s brushwork carries one’s
attention through secondary passages.
Ufer also painted The Fiddler of Taos in 1921,
a portrait of a Hispanic man sitting on an adobe
wall with a woman and child peering over. The
man’s shadowed face and the deep outlines
around his figure make for a dark and chilling
depiction. Well known to the Taos community
was a fiddler who had lost the bottom half of
his right leg. He was not an attractive man but
someone whom Ufer obviously found interesting
and important enough to paint. An everyday
working-class man, he persevered through his
disability; this is a person for whom Ufer likely
felt sympathy and probably admiration. The work
was awarded the William M. R. French Memorial
Gold Medal for a painting or sculpture executed
by a student or former student of the institute’s
WALTER UFER’S YEARS OF CRITICAL SUCCESS 67
 1921 annual juried exhibition, proving that the
artist could still win awards with paintings that
featured subject matter other than the Indian
subjects for which he was best known.
With his painting Sleep, Ufer won what
is arguably his most important award,
the prestigious Temple Gold Medal at the
Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts in 1922,
given to the best painting in the exhibition
regardless of subject. The work depicts a child
sleeping in her mother’s lap with an older woman
bending down, offering a consoling touch. Set
against a chalky white adobe wall similar to that
in Hunger, the work’s single-word title likewise
wants for explanation and suggests that it
holds a more universal meaning. Knowing that
Ufer intended Hunger to represent physical
and emotional hunger, it is likely that Sleep is
similarly a testament to physical and emotional
exhaustion. The painting is a carefully composed
interior scene incorporating both figures and
still-life elements. The child’s small body forms
a half circle from the lower edge of the canvas.
Her mother’s lap forms an opposing half circle,
bordered by the pot full of corn also in her lap.
The elder woman cloaked in a bright blanket
bends down to touch the woman’s shoulder,
connecting the three figures and implying they
are family. Ufer minimized his palette with the
exception of the brightly colored Rio Grande
textiles, one worn by the elder woman and
the other draped on the wall behind. The artist
exploits the decorative possibilities of the bright
colors and bold patterns of the blankets. On the
left side of the picture are two Pueblo pots and a
bow and arrow more often associated with Plains
Indians, evidencing Taos’s long tradition as a place
of trade among the Pueblo and Plains peoples.
Due to a series of unfortunate circumstances,
including diminished finances, emotional
instability, and most dramatically, an increasing
alcohol dependency, the artist’s career began
to wane. He found it increasingly difficult to sell
his works, including those that were among
his greatest. Amid all his efforts to promote
68 A PLACE IN THE SUN
himself and sell paintings, Ufer’s work began to
suffer. No longer were his canvases anchored in
complicated, creative compositions and energetic
brushwork; they became flat, formulaic, and
uninspired.32 By 1924, the artist was a shadow of
his former self.
For the next dozen years, until his death
in 1936, the artist produced works that never
reached the brilliance or ambition of his earlier
efforts—with one exception. In the winter of
1934, rehabilitated, the artist was determined to
once again paint a work equal to his previously
successful efforts.33 For months, Ufer painted,
once again in plein air, the ambitious Bob Abbott
and His Assistant. The work shows Bob Abbott
and Jim Mirabal, posing as his assistant, working
on a car owned by the artist. Set in a favorite
landscape with the brilliant light of New Mexico,
the painting’s entire surface is treated with great
detail, reminiscent of Ufer’s best canvases. It is
hard not to read this painting as a self-portrait
of sorts. The car that Ufer owned was a once
proud showpiece and is now in need of repair by
his friends. The car, like Ufer, has seen its better
days but hopes to run again. The artist wrote to
his old Chicago patron Carter Harrison, “The one
I am finishing now a 50 × 50 canvas will be the
best one I ever did.”34 It had been almost a dozen
years since Ufer had created a work to rival his
best. With Bob Abbott and His Assistant, the
artist reached deep within, in redemptive fashion,
to create one last great painting.
Ufer’s story is undoubtedly a tragic one. For
more than a decade, he produced paintings that
he knew were not up to his capabilities, leaving
behind examples that sullied his reputation. Yet
during his period of critical success, between
1915 and 1923, he stood as an exemplar of
American artists who sought to balance traditional
academic painting with the wave of modern art
movements—all while American society was in
the midst of its greatest change, including the
First World War. It was during this period, when
he created his greatest works, that his true genius
was revealed.
3.19
Walter Ufer, Autumn, 1920.
Oil on canvas; 45 × 48 in.
(114.3 × 121.92 cm).
American Museum of Western Art—
The Anschutz Collection

69

 3.20
Walter Ufer, Near the
Waterhole, 1921. Oil on
canvas; 36.5 × 40.5 in.
(92.71 × 102.87 cm). Union
League Club of Chicago

70
3.21
Walter Ufer, The Fiddler of
Taos, 1921. Oil on canvas;
36.25 × 30.375 in. (92.1 × 77.2 cm).
Colby College Museum of Art,
The Lunder Collection (2013.278)
71

 3.22
Walter Ufer, Sleep, 1922.
Oil on canvas; 50 × 50 in.
(127 × 127 cm). National Cowboy
and Western Heritage Museum,
Oklahoma City

72
3.23
Walter Ufer, Bob Abbott
and His Assistant, 1935. Oil
on canvas; 50.25 × 50.5 in.
(127.63 × 128.27 cm). Speed
Art Museum, Louisville, Kentucky,
bequest of Mrs. Walter Ufer (1947.13)

73

 NOTES
1. For more information about Chase and Duveneck, see
Ricard V. West, Munich and American Realism in the 19th
Century (Sacramento, Calif.: E. B. Crocker Art Gallery,
1978).
2. A
 fter the Armory Show of 1913, what was considered
to be modern in American art was forever changed. A
group of artists associated with Alfred Stieglitz’s Gallery
291, including John Marin, Marsden Hartley, and Georgia
O’Keeffe, would adapt techniques from European modern
art movements to their American subjects, further
pushing the boundaries of modernism in America.
3. The artist’s sales cards include many small studies from
this year. I used photocopies of the Walter Ufer Papers
(which include Ufer’s sales cards), provided by Stephen L.
Good, to write this essay. The original Walter Ufer Papers
were acquired by Good for Rosenstock Arts, Denver,
Colorado, and subsequently given to the University of
Notre Dame Archives through Dean A. Porter.
4. C
 arter H. Harrison, Jr., to Ufer, October 27, 1914, Ufer
Papers.
5. Ufer, as quoted in ibid.
6. T
 he model’s necklace is Puebloan, as evidenced by its
crosses. Catholic missions thrived among the Pueblos,
unlike the Navajo, who are also known for their silver
jewelry but were resistant to the missionaries.
7. A
 lthough claiming Louisville, Kentucky, as his birthplace
throughout his life, Ufer was actually born in Germany.
8. The other two paintings selected for the Panama-Pacific
International Exposition were Rosa Cota of San Juan
Pueblo and Taos Indian in Cornfield. Official Catalogue of
the Department of Fine Arts: Panama-Pacific International
Exposition (With Awards), San Francisco, California (San
Francisco: Wahlgreen, 1915), 47.
9. M
 y Indian Model, Taos, and Trailing were included in the
Annual Exhibition of Artists of Chicago and Vicinity at
the Art Institute of Chicago, March 2 to March 31, 1915.
Art Institute of Chicago, Catalogue of Nineteenth Annual
Exhibition: Artists of Chicago and Vicinity, exhibition
catalogue, “1915 Exhibition History,” Art Institute of
Chicago, accessed October 21, 2014, www.artic.edu/
research/1915-exhibition-history.
10. Stephen L. Good, “Walter Ufer: Munich to Taos, 1913–
1918,” in Pioneer Artists of Taos, rev. and expanded ed.,
ed. Laura M. Bickerstaff (Denver: Old West Publishing,
1983), 137.
11. E
 l Santuario de Chimayó is also called El Santuario de
Nuestro Señor de Esquipulas, the Shrine of Our Lord
of Esquipulas. For more information on the church
at Chimayo, see L. Bradford Prince, Spanish Mission
Churches of New Mexico, rev. ed. (Glorieta, N.Mex.: Rio
Grande Press, 1977).
74 A PLACE IN THE SUN
12. O
 ferta para San Esquipula; The Solemn Pledge,
Taos Indians; The Ford; The Passing Winter Clan; El
Cacique del Pueblo; and The American Desert were
included in the Annual Exhibition of American Oil
Paintings and Sculpture at the Art Institute of Chicago,
November 2 to December 7, 1916. Art Institute of
Chicago, Catalogue of Twenty-ninth Annual Exhibition
of American Oil Paintings and Sculpture, exhibition
catalogue, “1916 Exhibition History,” Art Institute of
Chicago, accessed October 21, 2014, www.artic.edu/
research/1916-exhibition-history.
13. Jim Moore’s essay in this publication (chapter 7) describes
in detail the literal translation of this image.
14. Woodrow Wilson, Message to Congress, 63rd Cong., 2d
Sess., S. Doc. No. 566 (1914), 3–4.
15. G
 ood, “Walter Ufer,” 131–32, remarks on Ufer discussing
the war.
16. What is extant in the artist’s archive is primarily
correspondence he received rather those in his own
voice. In many ways, this can explain why we know so
little about the symbolism of his work. It is possible, and
I would argue likely, that if the letters Ufer wrote to his
friends and colleagues about his work existed, we would
find that he was descriptive of the deeper meanings found
in his paintings.
17. C
 arter H. Harrison, Jr., to Walter Ufer, October 31, 1916,
Ufer Papers.
18. Information about specific exhibition entries, including the
artists mentioned in the text, can be found in Art Institute
of Chicago, Catalogue of Twenty-Ninth Annual Exhibition.
19. U
 fer would exhibit with Bellows, Kroll, and Henri again in
1917, at the museum in Santa Fe, New Mexico.
20. The Corcoran requested The Solemn Pledge, Taos
Indians but had to accept In the Land of Mañana
instead. Good, “Walter Ufer,” 146. In the Land of
Mañana was exhibited at the biennial Sixth Exhibition:
Oil Paintings by Contemporary American Artists at the
Corcoran Gallery of Art, 1916. Peter Hastings Falk, ed.,
The Biennial Exhibition Record of the Corcoran Gallery
of Art: 1907–1967 (Madison, Conn.: Sound View Press,
1991), 272.
21. Q
 uoted in Good, “Walter Ufer,” 150.
22. D
 uring his 1915 visit to New Mexico, Ufer painted more
than sixty works. In 1916, he painted upwards of forty. In
1917, he completed only about twenty works, but they
were large canvases and some of his most important
paintings. Walter Ufer’s sales cards, Ufer Papers.
23. The Indian Citizenship Act of 1924 was enacted partially to
recognize the thousands of Indians who served in World
War I. Many men from Taos County, New Mexico, served
in World War I; most had Spanish names.
 24. B
 lumenschein to Ufer, March 18, 1918, Ufer Papers.
25. Good, “Walter Ufer,” 162–63.
26. W
 alter Ufer to Allan [?], September 6, 1918, Ufer Papers.
27. A
 ccording to his sales records, Ufer painted only nine
works in 1918. This number included five relatively
small Taos paintings—In Taos, His Song, Silver Clouds,
The Gateway, and a fifth untitled work—as well as four
additional works, sketches, and portraits. Walter Ufer’s
sales cards, Ufer Papers.
28. Good, “Walter Ufer,” 165. Niall P. A. S. Johnson and
Juergen Mueller, “Updating the Accounts: Global
Mortality of the 1918–1920 ‘Spanish’ Influenza
Pandemic,” Bulletin of the History of Medicine 76, no. 1
(2002): 105–115.
29. Good, “Walter Ufer,” 165.
30. U
 fer’s comments, including the quotation, on Hunger and
its subjects are discussed in Good, “Walter Ufer,” 156n.
31. A
 discussion of Ufer’s incorporation of Hambidge’s
theories of dynamic symmetry can be found in Joan
Carpenter Troccoli, Painters and the American West: The
Anschutz Collection (Denver, Colo.: American Museum of
Western Art—The Anschutz Collection, 2000), 29–30.
32. He would still have some successes, including selling a
painting to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in 1925. He
won the Second Altman Prize at the National Academy
of Design in 1926 for a psychological work examining
class that he had painted in 1923, titled Luncheon at Lone
Locust. At the same exhibition he also won the Isidor Gold
Medal, awarded for artistic merit in painting for figure
composition, for A Discussion. Sadly, the latter was a
victory based on reputation rather than merit.
33. U
 fer’s alcoholism became so severe by 1933 that he was
incapable of painting. An artist friend, Gustave Baumann,
took the struggling Ufer to Pueblo, Colorado to be treated
for his illness. It was finally a successful rehabilitation, and
Ufer reportedly never drank again.
34. Walter Ufer to Carter H. Harrison, Jr., January 2, 1935,
Ufer Papers.
WALTER UFER’S YEARS OF CRITICAL SUCCESS 75
 4 THE COUNTRY HE LOVED BEST
4.01
E. Martin Hennings, Untitled
(Self-Portrait), not dated. Pen
and ink drawing; 17.5 × 12 in.
(44.45 × 30.48 cm) (paper size).
The TIA Collection
A Biography of E. Martin Hennings
Karen Brooks McWhorter
If an artist’s self-portrait can reveal how he sees
himself (or, perhaps, how he wants to be seen),
then Ernest Martin Hennings’s Untitled (Self-
Portrait) might be an instructive place to start
when examining his life and career. This drawing
is thought to date to about 1921, the year
Hennings settled in Taos and devoted himself
to making a career of painting southwestern
subjects. In the sketch, Hennings paints in plein
air in New Mexico’s dazzling sunlight. The day is
so bright, he shields himself with a hat and his
canvas with an umbrella. With a palette in his left
hand and a loaded brush in his right, the young
artist sketches directly from his surroundings,
capturing a fleeting episode from everyday life in
the Southwest.1 A group of Indians on horseback
(one of the artist’s favorite subjects) parades
behind a latticework of desert plants, and a dark,
flattened bulk of mountains lies in the distance.
The quiet scene unfolds under a burgeoning
cloud, a typical formation in the southwestern
skies and on Hennings’s canvases. This is the
environment in which Hennings created his most
important paintings and about which he wrote,
“This country with its great richness and variety
of subject matter—figure and landscape—
make[s] this a marvelous environment to really
spend ones [sic] life.”2 Although Hennings
would, in fact, spend most of his adult life in the
Southwest, his story begins not in northern New
Mexico but in the Midwest.
E. Martin Hennings was born in Penns
Grove, New Jersey, but he considered Chicago
his hometown. Hennings’s family moved to the
3 of work have given you, plus all the special
77
bustling midwestern city around 1888, when he
was about two years old.4 Chicago would remain
important to the artist throughout his life, both
personally and professionally; it was there that
he spent his youth, met and married his wife,
and embarked on a career in the arts. Chicago’s
arts community would provide invaluable
support for Hennings over the years. Many of
his most important patrons—individuals and
institutions—were based in Chicago, and local
art critics almost invariably lauded Hennings as
their native son.5
Hennings won an extraordinary number
of national and international awards during his
lifetime, but he remains relatively uncelebrated
in recent histories of American art during the
first half of the twentieth century. This oversight
may be attributed in part to the artist’s well-
documented modesty; he was not one to sing
his own praises. He sought not fame or fortune
as an artist, but rather the perfection of his
chosen craft, easel painting. For Hennings, each
painting was a calculated endeavor. He wrote,
A painting is a great adventure—thinking
over a subject, making all sorts of
pencil sketches, designing, comparing,
organizing, planning its color, the lighting,
until you are sure it has everything you
want for a strong and effective painting—
then you go to work on your canvas, with
your models, and this will call for all the
ability and craftsmanship which the years
 effort you are capable of in order to have a
consummative and significant piece of art
realized.6

Hennings’s paintings truly evidence his ability,

craftsmanship, and the special effort he put
into them. The artist’s own character—he was
a thoughtful, measured man—had much to do
with his very intentional approach to painting,
but so too did his academic training, begun in
Chicago.
According to a familiar anecdote, Hennings’s
first steps toward becoming an artist were his
steps across the threshold of the Art Institute of
Chicago as a teenager.7 He was so inspired by
the museum’s art collection that he enrolled in
studio classes at the School of the Art Institute
of Chicago (SAIC) in 1900.8 He graduated from
the SAIC with honors in 1904 and continued
taking classes for several years thereafter.
The SAIC emphasized the fundamentals of
academic training. Its program was modeled
on European art academies, in which the study
of classical sculpture and Old Master paintings,
as well as drawing and painting nudes from life,
formed the cornerstones of the curriculum.9
Under the tutelage of John H. Vanderpoel, a
veteran instructor and author of the enduring
tome on life drawing The Human Figure (1907),
Hennings became particularly skilled at depicting
human anatomy and established his methodical
approach to art making. Hennings said of
Vanderpoel, “He exercised the greatest influence
on me during the impressionable and formative
period of my life.”10
After his graduation, Hennings worked
as a magazine illustrator and as a mural and
portrait painter. Among other commissions,
11
Hennings may have been hired to paint murals
in the cafeteria of his alma mater. Around
12
1910, Hennings re-enrolled at the SAIC.13
Commercial work seems not to have satisfied
the young artist. His desire to make a name for
himself as a painter is evident in his participation
in the painting category of the prestigious
American Prix de Rome competition, which
4.02
awarded the winner a three-year scholarship Art Institute of Chicago
to the American Academy in Rome. Hennings (designed/built, 1893–1916).
Shepley, Rutan, and Coolidge,
submitted a painting titled Morning, whose architects; J. W. Taylor,
classical composition and allegorical subject photographer. Art Institute of
Chicago, Historic Architecture and
matter evidence his SAIC training.14 Hennings
Landscape Image Collection, Ryerson
came in second place to his colleague Eugene and Burnham Archives (U525691)
Francis Savage. Perhaps this missed opportunity
inspired Hennings to find his own way to study
abroad, the next step in what he deemed “the
usual procedure of an art student; study in
the country, [then] study abroad with the side
jobs for a livelihood.”15 As many artists of his
generation did, Hennings held the European art
academies in high esteem and believed that
training at such an institution was critical to an
aspiring artist’s success.
Hennings chose the art academies of
Munich, Germany, for the next chapter in his
formal education.16 From 1912 through 1914, he
studied under Walter Thor, Angelo Jank, and
Franz von Stuck in Munich. These instructors
had an indelible influence on the young artist.
Especially important to his European education
was his introduction by Stuck to Jugendstil (the
German brand of art nouveau characterized
by its emphasis on decorative design and
craftsmanship), his continued focus on the
realistic depiction of the human figure, and his

78 A PLACE IN THE SUN

4.03 (above left)
E. Martin Hennings,
Morning, ca. 1912. Oil
on canvas; 30 × 45 in.
(76.2 × 114.3 cm). New Mexico
Museum of Art, gift of Mrs. E. Martin
Hennings, 1979 (1979.63.2)
4.04 (above right)
E. Martin Hennings, Untitled
(Sketch for Morning),
ca. 1912. Pencil on paperboard;
13.5 × 10.5 in. (34.29 × 26.67
cm). New Mexico Museum of Art,
gift of Mrs. Helen Hennings Winton,
1980 (1980.26.103)
exposure to European masterworks in museums
across the continent. While in Munich, Hennings
frequented the American Artists Club, an
informal meeting place for American artists.
Other regulars included Victor Higgins and Walter
Ufer, fellow Chicagoans who, like Hennings,
would later become important members of
the Taos Society of Artists (see figure 1.24). In
1914, Hennings became president of the club.
Unfortunately, he was only able to enjoy a short
period of leadership in the convivial group before
World War I compelled him to return to America.
Just ahead of the destructive sweep of war,
Hennings fled through Holland so hastily that he
was unable to revisit Paris as he had hoped.
Back in Chicago by 1915, Hennings returned
to his studio space in the iconic Lambert Tree
Studio Building, an artists’ community north of
the city’s center.17 Hennings kept this Tree Studio
address for at least the next fifteen years. While
he resumed commercial work for the financial
stability it offered, he also produced easel
paintings. Hennings exhibited this new work
alongside paintings he brought back from Europe;
both new and old were well received by fellow
artists and the larger Chicago arts community.
4.05
In 1916, he won the Palette and Chisel Club’s A. E. Martin Hennings, ca. 1912.
H. Ullrich Gold Medal, an award given annually at Photograph from the scrapbook
of E. Martin Hennings. Collection
the members’ exhibition to the most outstanding of the grandchildren of E. Martin
painting. Chicago’s Palette and Chisel Club Hennings
THE COUNTRY HE LOVED BEST 79
 4.06
Lambert Tree Studios,
601–623 N. State St.; 12–16
E. Ohio St.; 7. E. Ontario St.;
Chicago, Illinois, 1894, 1912,
1913. Photograph. Hill and
Woltersdorf, architects, Parfitt
Brothers and Bauer and Hill, additional
architects. Art Institute of Chicago,
Arthur Woltersdorf Papers, Ryerson
and Burnham Archives (199705.
TreeStuExt_1)

4.07
E. Martin Hennings, Black
Furs, ca. 1916. Oil on canvas;
21 × 17.75 in. (53.34 × 45.085 cm). 4.08
M. Christine Schwartz Collection Victor Higgins, Taos,
ca. 1914–15. Oil on canvas;
27 × 30 in. (68.58 × 76.2 cm).
Colby College Museum of Art, The
Lunder Collection (2013.139)

80
 was an independent association of working
artists established in 1895 to offer extended
open studio times for its members, primarily
artists engaged in commercial work. Hennings
had been a member of the club before going
to Europe and was enthusiastically welcomed
back upon his return. In 1916 Hennings was
also awarded the Englewood Woman’s Club
Prize for his paintings in the Art Institute’s
Twentieth Annual Exhibition, Artists of Chicago
and Vicinity.18 The Englewood Woman’s Club
Prize was given to artists who had not previously
received a prize from the Art Institute. Among
his five paintings in the show was Black Furs,
whose dark palette, fluid brushwork, and subject
matter were influenced by his Munich training.
A refreshing counterpoint to his elegant but
rather somber Black Furs was the group of Taos
paintings by Hennings’s friends Walter Ufer and
Victor Higgins, also included in the exhibition. 19
4.09
Oscar F. Mayer and Carter
H. Harrison, date unknown.
Photograph. Reproduced with
permission of Bill Mayer
Soon enough, Hennings’s canvases would shift
toward a brighter, more colorful palette, but this
transformation necessitated a change of scenery.
Hennings enjoyed a moment in the national
spotlight when, in the winter of 1916–17, his
Munich painting Elderly Lady was included in an
exhibition at the National Academy of Design in
New York (see figure 5.01). A tag on the frame
reads, “Painted during my student days while
studying at the National Academy, Munich. This
is my first painting exhibited at the National
Academy in New York, 1916–1917.”20 In 1917,
his paintings were included in exhibitions at the
Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts (PAFA)
and the Saint Louis Art Museum.21
Hennings’s major awards from the Palette
and Chisel Club and the Art Institute and his
inclusion in significant national exhibitions did
not go unnoticed; he was making a name for
himself, and important people were paying
attention. Two of the most influential admirers
of Hennings’s work were former Chicago mayor
Carter H. Harrison, Jr., and wealthy businessman
Oscar F. Mayer. Harrison and Mayer were already
patrons of Ufer and Higgins. They were part of
a syndicate of private art collectors organized
by Harrison that funded Ufer’s and Higgins’s
painting trips to the American Southwest in
return for finished canvases. In 1914–15, the
syndicate sent Ufer and Higgins to Taos, hoping
the promising Chicago artists would there write
the next great chapter in American art. At this
time, many among the American arts community
thought that to create new, “authentic” American
art, American artists must shift their gaze
toward the Southwest rather than to Europe for
inspiration.
In 1917, Harrison’s syndicate extended an
offer of financial support to Hennings in return for
eight to ten southwestern canvases.22 Ufer and
Higgins were becoming prohibitively expensive,
and Harrison saw an opportunity to get in on the
ground floor with Hennings. Harrison had already
patronized Hennings through his involvement
with the Commission for Encouragement of
THE COUNTRY HE LOVED BEST 81
 4.10
East Gallery, Museum of
Fine Arts, Santa Fe, New
Mexico, 1917. Photograph.
Palace of the Governors Photo
Archives (NMHM/DCA; 016781)

Local Art (CELA), a group charged with building

a collection of art by Chicago artists for the city
of Chicago.23 Hennings found the terms of the
Taos proposal amenable. He knew of Ufer’s
and Higgins’s success in Taos and was keenly
aware of Taos’s growing popularity among young
artists. He noted that Taos’s “marvelous assets
for painting were well-known in the East and
there were more artists coming all the time.”24
Harrison and his syndicate offered Hennings
an opportunity to break away from commercial
art and focus on painting exhibition-worthy
canvases.
Hennings made his first trip to the Southwest
in summer 1917 and stayed through the fall.25
He visited Laguna, Acoma, Santa Fe, and Taos.26
Prior to Hennings’s arrival in Santa Fe, Carter
Harrison wrote a letter of introduction on the
artist’s behalf to the secretary and curator of
the Museum of New Mexico, Paul A. F. Walter,
saying,
This will be presented to you by Mr. Martin
Hennings, one of the most talented of the
younger group of Chicago artists, who will
spend the summer in your country, looking
up suitable motives [sic] for his brush.
I have suggested to him that he should
try to have an exhibition of some of his
4.11
E. Martin Hennings, Taos
Indian, 1917. Oil on canvas;
work in Santa Fe before he returns home. 29.5 × 24.5 in. (74.93 × 62.23 cm).
Private collection
Mr. Hennings’s work has been exhibited
in many of the recent important national
shows. Any assistance you may give him
will be appreciated.27
Following his patron’s advice, Hennings
submitted three paintings to the inaugural
exhibition at the Museum of New Mexico, which
opened in November 1917 and ran through
December. Among these paintings were Taos
Indian and The Vine, a canvas whose bright, sun-
drenched palette was unmistakably influenced by
Hennings’s new environs.28
In Taos, Hennings reconnected with his friend
Walter Ufer. He had written Ufer from Laguna
in early September, reporting that he planned to

82 A PLACE IN THE SUN

4.12
E. Martin Hennings, The
Vine, 1917. Oil on canvas;
30 × 25 in. (76.2 × 63.5 cm).
Private collection
arrive in time for the festivities associated with
San Geronimo Day on September 30 and stay
through October.29 Though Hennings intended
to stay in Taos for one month, in the end he
remained there for over three.30 Hennings
was surely impressed by the art scene he
encountered in Taos, which two years earlier had
been galvanized by the formation of the Taos
Society of Artists (TSA). The TSA was organized
in July 1915 by painters Ernest L. Blumenschein,
E. Irving Couse, Joseph Henry Sharp, Bert G.
Phillips, Oscar E. Berninghaus, and William
Herbert “Buck” Dunton with the main goal of
promoting sales and publicity of members’ art
through traveling exhibitions.31 According to the
TSA’s constitution, other purposes of the group
included arts education and the preservation
and promotion of “the native art”—uniquely
American art.32 At the time of Hennings’s arrival
in 1917, many TSA members had earned national
recognition and could boast enviable exhibition
records. Hennings was also impressed by Taos’s
trove of visual imagery ripe for an artist’s canvas.
“When I arrived in 1917, and saw the unique
background of nature, the picturesque Indian
pueblo and the land-of-mañana New Mexicans,
I liked it!”33 Hennings had traveled extensively
in Europe, would spend time on the East Coast,
and even journeyed to Mexico City in 1924 in
search of subjects for his paintings, but each
destination paled in comparison to northern New
Mexico. “There is nothing like Taos,” he said.34
THE COUNTRY HE LOVED BEST 83
 The artist returned to Chicago after his
eye-opening 1917 trip. As successful as his
sojourn had been, he would not go back to
New Mexico until 1921. During this hiatus,
Hennings continued painting portraits, produced
commercial work, and exhibited his paintings
in Chicago, elsewhere in the Midwest, and
beyond. Hennings exhibited five New Mexico
35
paintings at the Art Institute’s Chicago and
vicinity exhibition of 1918, but for the next
three years, he showed only portraits. He also
visited other artistic communities, including
Gloucester, Massachusetts, perhaps to learn if
another region suited him better as a prospective
home and artistic muse.36 Carter Harrison likely
encouraged Hennings during this time away
from Taos by selling subscriptions for his East
Coast paintings. This period was one of self-
37
discovery and commercial success for Hennings,
but ultimately his internal compass would point
southwest. Like so many other American artists,
he was drawn to New Mexico and its intensely
bright sunlight, dramatic and colorful landscape,
unique plant and animal life, and diverse people.
“With the idea of finding myself,” he said, “I
returned to Taos, and worked there for five
consecutive years. I constantly grew more
enthusiastic over the West, for I was impressed
with its possibilities for landscape and figure
composition.” 38
By 1920, Harrison had reached out to his
fellow collectors about sending Hennings
to Taos again. He wrote to William Klauer
of Dubuque, Iowa, a former patron of both
Hennings and Ufer, seeking his involvement:
“Hennings is coming fast—we want to get
up a shindicate [sic] and send him to Taos this
coming summer.”39 By 1921, with the support
of Harrison’s syndicate, Hennings had settled
in Taos. He spent the majority of the year there
but returned to Chicago each winter and stayed
for several months, exhibiting and selling his
paintings. In Taos, he passed long days painting
in the Rio Hondo Canyon at Twining and
Amisette, deserted copper mining communities
84 A PLACE IN THE SUN
surrounded by stands of aspen.40 He also painted
outside the town of Valdez and took extended
camping trips in the vicinity of Taos with fellow
artists, including Leon Gaspard, Victor Higgins,
Bert Phillips, George Sass, and Blanche C. Grant.
In Chicago, he kept his Tree Studio residence
and listed this address when exhibiting works
at national institutions. He took on portrait
commissions and submitted his paintings to
important local and national exhibitions, where
they earned major awards and enthusiastic
reviews from critics. In 1922, Hennings won the
Art Institute’s Clyde M. Carr Memorial Prize, an
award given to the painter of the best landscape
in any medium, for Beneath Clouded Skies. This
notable prize represented a defining moment in
the artist’s career. Once a young student, eager
to emulate the artists whose work he admired at
the Art Institute, E. Martin Hennings had come
full circle; now it was his work being admired in
those illustrious halls.
During the 1920s, Hennings exhibited his
paintings near and far, as distant as Venice, Italy,
and as close as the Chicago department store
Marshall Field and Company.41 Edith Ogden
Harrison, wife of Carter H. Harrison, wrote the
following review of Hennings’s one-man show
of twenty-five landscapes at Marshall Field and
Company’s picture galleries, held April 11–25,
1923:
His friends rejoice in the steady progress
of Mr. Hennings as a painter of purely
American themes. No one who has studied
his work can fail to be struck by his growing
appreciation of the sunshine and color
of New Mexico. The careful painstaking
training of Munich schooled him thoroly
[sic] in the fundamentals of his art. On
this solid foundation he is building with
a patient zeal and confidence that spring
from a true love of his work.42
In her review, Mrs. Harrison astutely suggested
that Hennings had found a winning combination
with his Taos paintings—the marriage of his
4.13
E. Martin Hennings,
Beneath Clouded Skies,
ca. 1922. Oil on canvas;
43 × 45 in. (109.22 × 114.3 cm).
The TIA Collection

85

 academic art training in Munich and his
southwestern subjects. Hennings translated
the Jugendstil aesthetic he had picked up from
von Stuck to “purely American themes” with
handsome results, as is evident in his many
paintings of aspen trees, in which he transforms
the trees’ golden foliage into decorative screens.
In summer 1923, Walter Ufer and Oscar
Berninghaus nominated Hennings for active
membership in the Taos Society of Artists.
By this time, Hennings had met a central
requirement of candidacy—working in Taos
for the better part of at least three years.
Sheldon Parsons and Theodore Van Soelen
were nominated for associate membership
alongside Hennings, but none of the three was
elected as each failed to receive a two-thirds
majority vote from the active TSA members.
Contention among TSA members may be the
reason Hennings and his fellow nominees were
not elected. The minutes of the annual meeting
from that year suggest that there was debate
over who should next serve as the society’s
secretary, an arduous role that oversaw the
organization of the group’s circuit exhibitions.43
Perhaps the members’ preoccupation with this
argument overshadowed the election process.
Despite the disappointment of his rejection by a
group of artists he considered friends, Hennings
found 1923 to be a successful year. He won the
Art Institute’s Martin B. Cahn Prize for the best
painting by a Chicago artist with The Twins (see
figure 5.13). Hennings was so proud of The Twins
that he sent it on to be shown at the Carnegie
Museum and at PAFA.
At the tenth annual meeting of the TSA in
1924, Hennings and Catherine C. Critcher were
nominated for membership by Berninghaus and
Phillips. This time, Hennings was unanimously
elected. Hennings and Critcher (the only female
44
member of the group) were among the last
artists elected to the TSA. The internal conflict at
the time of Hennings’s first nomination presaged
the society’s dissolution in 1927.45
The years 1925 and 1926 saw Hennings’s
86 A PLACE IN THE SUN
continued ascendance on the national art scene.
In 1925, he won PAFA’s Walter Lippincott
Prize, at the 120th Annual Exhibition, for
Announcements (see figure 5.18). The prestigious
Lippincott Prize of three hundred dollars was
given for the best figurative oil painting by an
American artist. Hennings won out over Taos
compatriots Blumenschein, Higgins, and Ufer—
a significant feat. The painting was purchased by
PAFA for five hundred dollars and accessioned
into the academy’s Temple Collection of modern
art, the first of his works to be acquired by a
major museum.46 Upon learning about the prize
and the purchase of Announcements, Hennings
wrote to PAFA’s secretary, “It has been the most
wonderful news and greatest signal [sic] honor
that has yet come to me. It will mean much to
me in the way of encouragement and stimulus
to still greater effort.”47 Hennings must have
been further encouraged by his 1926 awards in
exhibitions at the Art Institute of Chicago and the
National Academy of Design.48
On Hennings’s 1925 winter stopover in
Chicago, he began a relationship with Helen Otte
of Oak Park, Illinois, an assistant art director for
Marshall Field and Company.49 After a year’s
courtship, the couple was married on July 20,
1926. Shortly thereafter, the newlyweds set
sail for Europe and spent sixteen months on a
painting tour of France, Spain, Italy, and Morocco.
The couple kept a home base in Paris and from
there embarked on sightseeing excursions.
Hennings painted in almost every town they
visited. In summer 1927, his painting Mexican
Sheep Herder was included in the annual Paris
Salon where it won Honorable Mention. When
Hennings returned to Chicago that fall, he
exhibited Mexican Sheep Herder along with
thirty-three other paintings—most of which he
had completed in Europe—in a one-gallery, one-
man exhibition at the Art Institute of Chicago.50
In summer 1928 Martin and Helen Hennings
settled in Taos.51 Hennings stated that after
their European sojourn, “the call of northern
New Mexico was so strong, we returned to

4.15
E. Martin Hennings,
Thistle Blossoms, 1929.
Oil on canvas; 40 × 40 in.
(101.6 × 101.6 cm). McNay Art
Museum, San Antonio, Texas, gift of
the Tobin Foundation (1999.110)
Taos to make it our permanent home.”52 They
rented a small studio apartment at the Harwood
Foundation complex in Taos, a community
center established on the property of artist Burt
Harwood.53 The pair lived there until 1936, when
they moved to an adobe home near Taos Plaza. 54
In the late 1920s and early 1930s, Hennings
4.14
E. Martin Hennings and
Helen Otte Hennings
in Grazalema, Spain,
1926. Photograph. From
the scrapbook of E. Martin
Hennings. Collection of the
grandchildren of E. Martin Hennings
maintained an impressive schedule of exhibitions
during the winter season in Chicago, but he also
began scheduling shows in major southwestern
venues, including Dallas, Houston, and Galveston.
Texas had been a prominent market for the
TSA, whose group exhibitions had toured the
state beginning in 1924.55 Hennings’s name
was thus already well known among Texas art
buyers, who eagerly commissioned portraits
from Hennings and purchased his Taos scenes.
During his winter residencies in Texas from 1938
through 1940, the Hennings family rented an
apartment in Houston.56 They returned to Taos
each spring so that, according to his daughter
(who was born in 1930 in Santa Fe), “he could
paint the country he loved best.”57 An important
outcome of Hennings’s Texas ventures was his
first prize in the Texas Wild Flower Competition in
early 1929 with Thistle Blossoms, beating out his
Taos compatriots Oscar Berninghaus, Catherine
Critcher, Buck Dunton, and Joseph Fleck for
the substantial award of three thousand dollars.
In addition to Texas, Hennings exhibited his
paintings from coast to coast, from Washington,
D.C., to Los Angeles, California.58
The Great Depression had a devastating
effect on American art sales. During the 1930s,
sales markedly decreased for Hennings. He gave
up his Chicago residence and traveled there
THE COUNTRY HE LOVED BEST 87

even less frequently. His last major show at the
Art Institute was in 1932, and his last exhibition
in Chicago took place in February 1935.59 He
increasingly exhibited his work in New Mexico,
with the exception of some shows in Texas and
on the West Coast. Hennings was hired by the
Public Works of Art Project, a federal program
that aided over 3,500 artists in America in 1933–
34, to paint Homeward Bound for the Treasury
Department. He also took on a commission
60
from the Works Progress Administration to paint
a mural in a post office in Van Buren, Arkansas. 61
Hennings worked on the mural, titled The
Chosen Site, beginning in 1938 and completed
the fourteen-foot-long by almost seven-foot-tall
painting in November 1940.
The last two decades of Hennings’s life
were spent peaceably in Taos. He became an
active member of the Taos Artists Association, a
group of local professional painters, serving as its
treasurer for several years. He primarily sold his art
locally through Jane Hiatt, who owned a gallery
in the La Fonda Hotel, and enjoyed the patronage
of several wealthy art buyers, notably Robert E.
McKee of El Paso, Texas, and H. J. Lutcher Stark
of Orange, Texas. In 1954, Stark purchased six
paintings from Hennings for $5,200, a sum that
the artist said was “the biggest check I will have
88 A PLACE IN THE SUN
4.16 (left)
E. Martin Hennings with a
Navajo model in front of the
hogan where he painted
Navajo Sandpainter for the
Santa Fe Railway, Navajo
Reservation, Ganado, Arizona,
1955. Photograph. From the
scrapbook of E. Martin Hennings.
Collection of the grandchildren of
E. Martin Hennings
4.17 (right)
E. Martin Hennings painting
outdoors with his brother-
in-law Joseph E. Yell, date
unknown. Photograph. From the
scrapbook of E. Martin Hennings.
ever received.”62 He also sold work to the Atchison, Collection of the grandchildren of
E. Martin Hennings
Topeka, and Santa Fe Railway Company. In 1955,
63
the company commissioned Hennings to paint
several canvases to be reproduced as illustrations
for its popular calendars. The subject of the
commission was life on the Navajo Reservation
at Ganado, Arizona. After Hennings accepted
the job, he and his family spent six weeks on the
reservation living in a Navajo-style hogan. One of
the 1957 calendar illustrations, Navajo Sandpainter
(1956), was the last painting Hennings created.
On May 19, 1956, Ernest Martin Hennings died in
Taos. He is buried in Chicago.
Although Hennings is most often characterized
as a significant member of the Taos Society of
Artists—and that he was—it is important to note
that his success was principally self-made. The
TSA certainly boosted his reputation and sales of
his work, but his short three years of membership
came after he was already well established. His
journey as an artist started in Chicago, took him
to Munich, and ended in Taos, and it was Taos
itself, rather than the group of artists who lived
and worked there, that was his muse. “The
mountains with their canyons and streams, the
sage beneath the clouded skies, the adobe village
with its Spanish people, and of course the Taos
Pueblo with its Indians, their life (domestic and
agricultural) and all the color and romance of
their dress and history,—here in figure subjects I
believe I find my greatest inspiration.”64
NOTES 1. This self-portrait somewhat belies Hennings’s
documented methodical approach to painting, in which
he sketched and composed his works in the field and
most often finished the canvases in his studio. Many Taos
artists worked in this manner. According to Mary Caroll
Nelson, Hennings was known to finish plein air sketches
he had made during the painting season (summer and
fall, mainly) in his studio during the winter months. Mary
Caroll Nelson, The Legendary Artists of Taos (New York:
Watson-Guptill Publications, 1980), 104.
2. E
 . Martin Hennings to Mrs. Barnes, March 10, 1954,
Hennings Papers, Archives of American Art, Smithsonian
Institution, Washington, D.C.
3. E. Martin Hennings was born February 5, 1886, to Martin
and Louise Dunklau Hennings of Schleswig-Holstein,
Germany.
4. The Hennings family may have moved to Chicago in
1889. Hennings stated that his family moved to Chicago
two years after his birth. See Blanche C. Grant, When Old
Trails Were New: The Story of Taos, reprint (Chicago: Rio
Grande Press, 1963), 267. According to Robert R. Martin
and Joel Dryer, “church records . . . indicate [Hennings’s]
sister Maria Alis (Alice) was baptized at Clarksboro,
New Jersey, on 2/28/1889,” suggesting that the family
was still on the East Coast in spring 1889. See Robert
R. Martin and Joel Dryer, “Ernest Martin Hennings
(1886–1956),” Illinois Historical Art Project, www.
illinoisart.org/#!ernest-martin-hennings/ccfc (hereafter
IHAP). IHAP’s source of the pertinent church records
is Jeanne M. Hammell, comp., South Jersey Church
Records: Baptisms, Marriages, Deaths, 1750–1900, vol.
1 (Woodbury, N.J.: Gloucester County Historical Society,
1990), 268.
5. For an in-depth discussion of how Chicago supported and
celebrated Hennings and other Taos artists, see “Cities
as Patrons: Chicago,” in Dean A. Porter, Teresa Hayes
Ebie, and Suzan Campbell, Taos Artists and Their Patrons,
1898–1950 (Notre Dame, Ind.: Snite Museum of Art,
1999), 87–105.
6. Q
 uotation included in Robert Rankin White, “E. Martin
Hennings,” in Pioneer Artists of Taos, rev. and expanded
ed., ed. Laura M. Bickerstaff (Denver, Colo.: Old West
Publishing, 1983), 203–204.
7. In 1930, speaking about the beginning of his painting
career, Hennings stated, “It was rather strange that I
chose painting for my profession, for practically none of
my family showed any artistic tendencies. It happened
that when I was 12 or 13 years old, another lad and
myself wandered into the Art Institute of Chicago and
it was during that visit that I determined to become an
artist. That day I secured a pamphlet that showed me
that art could be studied. That had never occurred to
me.” Quotation included in “New Paintings on Exhibit
in Club Rooms,” Way Bill, Chicago Traffic Club 21, no. 7
(July–August 1930): 2. According to IHAP, this quote was
first reproduced in I. K., “E. Martin Hennings,” Christian
Science Monitor, April 23, 1928.
8. Per Martin and Dryer, IHAP, the Student Record of
the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, 1901–1905,
documents that in 1900, Hennings enrolled “in the
Saturday juvenile division. The following summer, he
entered the regular school and studied days, evenings and
summers until graduating with honors on June 17, 1904.”
9. For a description of the type of academic training most
early Taos artists, including Hennings, underwent, see
Julie Schimmel, “From Salon to Pueblo,” in Art in New
Mexico, 1900–1945: Paths to Taos and Santa Fe, by
Charles C. Eldredge, Julie Schimmel, and William H.
Truettner (New York: Abbeville Press, 1986), 44. For a
more complete discussion of curricula at the SAIC, see
Roger Gilmore, ed., Over a Century: A History of the School
of the Art Institute of Chicago, 1866–1981 (Chicago: School
of the Art Institute of Chicago, 1982), 69–79.
10. “Selections from Gallery of Vanderpoel Art Assn.: Indian
Head by E. Martin Hennings,” Chicago Weekly Review,
July 20, 1928.
11. L
 ittle is known about Hennings’s illustrations, but several
of the artist’s mural commissions have been studied. His
mural commissions included the Florentine Room at the
Congress Hotel in Chicago (completed in 1909, according
to Martin and Dryer, IHAP, note 17) and the Grace
Episcopal Cathedral in Topeka, Kansas (about 1915–16,
according to Nelson, Legendary Artists, 100).
12. P
 er Patricia Janis Broder, this mural is no longer extant.
See Patricia Janis Broder, Taos: A Painter’s Dream
(Boston: New York Graphic Society, 1980), 257. Robert
R. White corroborates Broder’s contention in “The Life
of E. Martin Hennings: 1886–1956,” El Palacio 84, no. 3
(Fall 1978): 23–24. According to Martin and Dryer, IHAP,
note 16: “No confirmation of the Art Institute work can be
located through newspaper clippings nor through records
of the Art Institute. This account if [sic] from family
remembrances and with out corroboration must not be
taken as absolute fact.”
13. Robert R. White has stated that Hennings re-enrolled in
the SAIC in 1911–12, but Martin and Dryer contend that
Hennings re-enrolled in 1910 (Martin and Dryer, IHAP,
note 18).
14. Julie Schimmel states that Hennings’s sketch of a female
figure (figure 4.04) dates to the artist’s time in Munich,
but a comparison of the sketch with the finished painting
Morning suggests that the sketch is a study for the central
figure in that painting, which the artist completed in about
1912, before he embarked for Germany. Schimmel, “From
Salon to Pueblo,” 45.
15. I. K., “E. Martin Hennings.”
16. For insight into why Hennings and Walter Ufer chose
Germany as the European destination for continuing their
formal education, see Susanne Boeller, “Two American
Painters in Munich: Walter Ufer and E. Martin Hennings”
(chapter 1, this volume).
17. H
 ennings kept a studio in the Tree Studio Building
beginning in 1912, before his trip to Europe, according to
Martin and Dryer, IHAP, note 20.
THE COUNTRY HE LOVED BEST 89
 18. H
 ennings exhibited five works in the Twentieth Annual
Exhibition, Artists of Chicago and Vicinity, at the Art
Institute of Chicago (AIC), February 8–March 5, 1916:
Pensive, Black Furs, In Mourning, The Surprise, and a
portrait of Albert W. Aron. See Art Institute of Chicago,
Catalogue of the Twentieth Annual Exhibition, Artists
of Chicago and Vicinity, exhibition catalogue, “1916
Exhibition History,” Art Institute of Chicago, accessed
June 30, 2014, www.artic.edu/research/1916-exhibition-
history. Hennings exhibited at the AIC every year (and
often in two shows per year) from 1916 through 1932. See
Peter Hastings Falk, ed., The Annual Exhibition Record of
the Art Institute of Chicago, 1888–1950 (Madison, Conn.:
Sound View Press, 1990).
19. Ufer exhibited “His Makin’s”; Taos Plaza, New Mexico;
Stringing Chili; Tomasito of Isleta; The Priest’s Row, Taos;
and Old Spanish Gate at Taos. Higgins exhibited Bow
Bender, String Miser, The Rummager, Taos (which won
the Butler Purchase Prize of two hundred dollars and was
purchased for the Chicago public school system), Adobe
House at Ranchito, and Landscape, Taos, New Mexico.
Art Institute of Chicago, Catalogue of the Twentieth
Annual Exhibition.
20. The painting Elderly Lady in the collection of the Stark
Museum of Art is inscribed “Nat’l Academy [illeg] Show
1916–17” (verso, on stretcher). There is a hand-printed
paper tag on the back of the frame, “‘Elderly Lady’/by/E.
Martin Henning [sic],” and a second tag—typewritten
with a hand-printed name—also on the back of the frame,
which reads: “painted during my student days while studying
at the national academy, munich. this is my first painting
exhibited at the national academy in new york, 1916–1917.
e martin hennings.” Information courtesy of Sarah Boehme,
curator, Stark Museum of Art. According to Peter Hastings
Falk, ed., The Annual Exhibition Record of the National
Academy of Design, 1901–1950 (Madison, Conn.: Sound
View Press, 1990), 257, Hennings exhibited a painting
titled Grandmother in the 1916–17 winter exhibition
(December 16, 1916–January 14, 1917). It was the only
painting he exhibited that year, and it may be inferred
that this painting is Elderly Lady. Hennings exhibited
Grandmother at the Carnegie Institute’s International
Exhibition of 1920.
21. T
 he Bridge was accepted into both PAFA and the Saint
Louis Art Museum shows; IHAP, text after note 41.
22. S
 ee Carter H. Harrison, Jr., “How to Help Artists,”
Chicago Evening Post, July 24, 1917, p.11 (letter to the
editor, printed in Lena May McCauley’s column, News of
the Art World). See also Porter, Ebie, and Campbell, Taos
Artists and Their Patrons, 100. On Taos Indian Reservation
and In New Mexico were purchased by Carter H. Harrison,
Jr.; The Drinking Place was purchased by Oscar F. Mayer;
Stringing the Bow was purchased by Preston Harrison.
23. CELA was “established by [Chicago] City ordinance
November 9, 1914. Consists of seven members appointed
for terms of four years. It is empowered to select and
purchase paintings, sculpture, and other works of art
90 A PLACE IN THE SUN
produced by residents of Chicago, and to place them in
City buildings.” American Federation of Arts, American
Art Annual, vol. 13 (New York: MacMillan, 1916), 97. In
1916, CELA purchased Hennings’s painting Pensive.
24. Ruth Watson, “He Thanks Taos for His Fame,” Desert
Magazine 5, no. 8 (June 1942): 12.
25. V
 icki Heltunen, “E. Martin Hennings: Taos Artist,” in
Color, Pattern and Plane: E. Martin Hennings in Taos,
exhibition catalogue (Orange, Tex.: Stark Museum of
Art, 1986), accessed August 8, 2014, www.tfaoi.com/
aa/4aa/4aa40.htm.
26. Broder, Taos, 258. Carter H. Harrison, Jr., wrote a letter
to Walter Ufer saying “that he was sending Hennings to
New Mexico with commissions for eight or ten canvases,
and mentioned that Hennings would start at the Grand
Canyon, work eastward to Laguna, then to Santa Fe,
Espanola, and finish up at Taos.” The letter is reprinted
in Robert R. White, “Epilogue: Those Who Followed,”
in “Pioneer Artists of Taos,” ed. Susan E. Meyer, special
issue, American Artist 42, no. 426 (January 1978): 200.
In “How to Help Artists,” Harrison wrote, “This year we
have sent Martin Hennings west; he will start in at the
Grand Canyon, stop off at Laguna, Santa Fe, San Juan and
wind up his trip at Taos” (11). Per White, it is not known
if he went to the Grand Canyon, but he definitely went
to the Laguna–Acoma area and Taos. White, “E. Martin
Hennings,” 197–98.
27. C
 arter H. Harrison, Jr., to Paul A. F. Walter, July 1,
1917, copies of correspondence, 1917–1924, reel 3292,
Museum of Fine Arts, Museum of New Mexico Files,
Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution,
Washington, D.C. The Museum of New Mexico opened
in 1917. The name Museum of Fine Arts was adopted
in 1962, and since 2007, it has been known as the New
Mexico Museum of Art.
28. Taos Indian (also known as Carving the Goard), The Vine
(also known as The Vined Entrance), and Evening at
Laguna were included in the inaugural exhibition. See
Edgar L. Hewett, “On the Opening of the Art Galleries,”
Art and Archaeology 7 (January–December 1918): 53. The
Vine is reproduced in the plates after page 54.
29. Hennings wrote Ufer (in Taos) from Laguna on September 3,
1917, Hennings Papers, Archives of American Art: “So
far have done only landscape works, solicited models last
week and they seem disposed to hold me up to one dollar
an hour[;] if this keeps up will reserve figure work until I
reach Taos which I will reach about Sept. 29th, when the
dance takes place.” He made plans to “stay for a month.”
Hennings to Mrs. Barnes.
30. “Locals,” Taos Valley News, December 18, 1917.
31. Robert R. White, ed., preface to The Taos Society of Artists
(Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1983), 3–5.
32. The Taos Society of Artists Constitution and By-Laws, AC
219–1, Taos Society of Artists Collection, Fray Angélico
Chávez History Library, Santa Fe, New Mexico.
33. Watson, “He Thanks Taos,” 12.
34. “Taos Is Best,” Taos Valley News, November 22, 1924.
 35. H
 is Munich painting Elderly Lady had its moment on the
New York art scene at the National Academy of Design in
winter 1916–17.
36. H
 ennings “spent the summer painting in Gloucester”
per White, “E. Martin Hennings,” 198, and White, “The
Lithographs and Etchings of E. Martin Hennings,” El
Palacio 84, no. 3 (Fall 1978): 36. Nelson says he went
to Gloucester in 1915, post-Europe; Legendary Artists,
100. The author spoke to a friend of Hennings’s widow,
a private collector in California, who owns several of
Hennings’s Gloucester canvases, confirming that the
artist spent time on the East Coast.
37. Harrison to William H. Klauer, January 25, 1920, quoted in
Porter, Ebie, and Campbell, Taos Artists and Their Patrons,
103.
38. I. K., “E. Martin Hennings.”
39. Harrison to Klauer, January 25, 1920.
40. Hennings’s daughter Helen Hennings Winton wrote,
“Dad spent every autumn painting in the Hondo Canyon.
His favorite spots for subject matter were Twining and
Amisette. Here he’d see Blumy and Phillips, Berninghaus
and Sharp.” Winton, “E. Martin Hennings,” Taos News,
September 12, 1968. For more on Hennings’s camping
trip with a group of artists during the fall of 1922, see
“Personals,” Taos Valley News, November 14, 1922. Also
see Grant, When Old Trails Were New, 188–93.
41. Hennings exhibited his painting Passing By in the 1924
Venice Biennale. The painting later won the Isidor Gold
Medal, awarded by the National Academy of Design,
New York, to the best figure composition painted by an
American artist under age thirty-five, and it was ultimately
purchased for one thousand dollars by the Henry Ward
Ranger Fund in 1926 and donated to the Museum of Fine
Arts, Houston.
42. “
 E. Martin Hennings,” Chicago Evening Post, April 10,
1923.
43. “
 Minutes of Annual Meeting, Taos Soc. of Artists—
7/13–23,” in White, ed., Taos Society of Artists, 85–86.
44. “
 Minutes of the Annual Meeting of the Taos Society of
Artists, July 12th, 1924,” in Ibid., 93.
45. Schimmel, “From Salon to Pueblo,” 43.
46. Announcements was exhibited at the Museum of New
Mexico and the Art Institute of Chicago in 1924 before it
traveled to the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts in
1925. See “‘Announcements’ by E. Martin Hennings,”
El Palacio, 19 (November 16, 1925), 217.
47. E. Martin Hennings to Mr. John Andrew Myers, secretary,
Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, March 12, 1925,
Announcements Object File, Pennsylvania Academy of
the Fine Arts, Philadelphia.
48. H
 ennings won the AIC’s Fine Arts Building Purchase
Prize of five hundred dollars for Winter in New Mexico
(ca. 1925) in 1926. The Fine Arts Building Purchase Prize
selected one painting from the Annual Exhibition of Artists
of Chicago and Vicinity to be given to the Chicago Public
School Art Society or other civic organizations. Hennings
had previously won this award in 1922 for Beneath
Clouded Skies.
49. White has written that Martin Hennings met Helen Otte in
1925 (White, “Epilogue,” 200). In another source, White
mentions that Martin met Helen in 1924 (White, “Life
of E. Martin Hennings,” 84). According to IHAP, the two
met in 1923 while she was working at Marshall Field and
Company (IHAP, text after note 98).
50. See Paintings by E. Martin Hennings, December 27,
1927–January 31, 1928, “1928 Exhibition History,” Art
Institute of Chicago, accessed January 29, 2015, www.
artic.edu/research/1928-exhibition-history.
51. White, ed., preface to Taos Society of Artists, 7.
52. Watson, “He Thanks Taos,” 12.
53. Nelson, Legendary Artists, 103, and White, “Life of
E. Martin Hennings,” 26.
54. Hennings’s home was located at 412 Kit Carson Road at
Dolan Street in Taos, New Mexico.
55. According to the Taos Society of Artists minutes from
1924, the TSA circuit exhibition was shown at the
International Fair in El Paso, Texas, in September 1924,
and in Fort Worth in November. White, ed., Taos Society
of Artists, 90, 94.
56. Nelson writes that the Hennings family rented an
apartment in Houston, Texas, during their sojourns in
that state; Legendary Artists, 105. White corroborates in
“Lithographs and Etchings,” 36.
57. Winton, “E. Martin Hennings.”
58. In 1928, Hennings exhibited Mexican Sheep Herder at the
Corcoran Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C. He exhibited
Vengeance at the Corcoran in 1933. Hennings won first
prize at the Academy of Western Painters exhibition, Los
Angeles, California, in 1938.
59. T
 he year 1932 was Hennings’s last in the Chicago and
vicinity show. See Falk, ed., Annual Exhibition Record Art
Institute of Chicago. Hennings’s last exhibit in Chicago
was with the Association of Chicago Painters and
Sculptors at Marshall Field and Company (IHAP notes 159,
161).
60. See Anne Prentice Wagner, 1934: A New Deal for Artists
(Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian American Art Museum,
2009), 50.
61. White, “E. Martin Hennings,” 205.
62. E. Martin Hennings to H. J. Lutcher Stark, December 20,
1954, Object File, Stark Museum of Art.
63. H
 ennings was first engaged by the Atchison, Topeka, and
Santa Fe Railway Company in 1925, when the company
approached him about buying a painting for its corporate
collection.
64. Winton, “E. Martin Hennings.”
THE COUNTRY HE LOVED BEST 91
 5 TAOS AND THE ART
(Detail)
E. Martin Hennings,
Passing By, ca. 1924.
(See figure 5.15, page 107)
OF E. MARTIN HENNINGS
Peter H. Hassrick
Through the influence of Mr. Carter Harrison I was induced to try
the West and have made Taos, N.M.[,] my stomping grounds since
1921 and such successes as I have been fortunate to have, has
come from subjects and work done in this environment.
Geography is often the fundamental catalyst
of creative discovery, that and the quest for
adventure. For the second-generation German
American painter from Chicago E. Martin
Hennings, adventure meant practicing his
craft among the Indians of the fascinating
Taos Pueblo. The geography of New Mexico
provided him an inviting tableau that unfolded
unforgettable landscapes and an enchanting
atmosphere for canvas after canvas. It all started
in 1917, when Hennings was thirty-one years
old. That summer he wandered into Taos. It
became his home and his inspiration for the rest
of his life.
Hennings had emerged on the national scene
as a fine artist just one year earlier, in 1916. He
had recently returned from two and a half years
of studying in Munich and touring art museums
across Europe. Back in his hometown of Chicago,
he resumed a previously established commercial
art career. He also began exploring ways in
which his noncommercial art might begin to find
critical recognition, institutional approbation, and
market exposure.
By spring 1916 Hennings had moved to a
residence and studio in the famous Tree Studio
Building in Chicago. From there emanated a
series of works that helped satisfy his early
93
—E. MARTIN HENNINGS, 1928
ambitions as a fine artist. He then joined with a
select group from the Palette and Chisel Club, led
by his friend and fellow Munich student Walter
Ufer and landscapist Edgar Payne, to circulate
exhibitions to midwestern cities.
Hennings focused in these years on
portraiture, and his style reflected the vigorous
brushwork and interior focus often employed
by the independent master Walter Thor and
Hennings’s Munich Royal Academy mentor,
Angelo Jank.1 One of several subjects he chose
was an aged Bavarian woman, whose head and
shoulders are festooned in glistening purple
ribbon in Hennings’s painting Elderly Lady.
The neutrality of her white hair and the white
backdrop juxtaposed with the velvety black dress
help to accentuate the lively color in her cheeks.
Her enigmatic smile and sensitive eyes are at
once engaging and settling to the viewer, who by
virtue of the sitter’s expression of accessibility is
invited into her thoughts. Technically, the painting
reveals a mix of approaches, combining powerful
lighting and sophisticated drawing enlivened by
the bravura brushwork for which the Munich
school was famous.
In 1916 Hennings won awards at the Art
Institute of Chicago as well as at the Palette and
Chisel Club.2 At the same time he sold a painting

titled Pensive to Chicago’s Commission for the
Encouragement of Local Art (CELA), a group
established in 1914 by long-term mayor Carter H.
Harrison, Jr., to encourage the city’s painters and
sculptors and build a municipal collection.
Fellow painter Victor Higgins, who knew
Hennings in his early Chicago years and even
spent time with him in Munich, had been a
member of the commission since its inception.3
Higgins had been painting in Taos, New Mexico,
for the past two years, thanks to the patronage
of Carter Harrison and a syndicate of art buyers.
Higgins had spearheaded plans for a group of
seven painters to “go west on a painting tour”
with him during the summer of 1916.4 The
presumed destination was Taos, spurred on by
Higgins’s success with the subject as well as
94 A PLACE IN THE SUN
5.01
E. Martin Hennings, Elderly
Lady, 1913–14. Oil on
canvas; 20.25 × 17.375 in.
(51.44 × 44.13 cm). Stark Museum
of Art, Orange, Texas (31.32.24)
newspaper reports about Ufer, which noted that
his recent trips to the Grand Canyon and New
Mexico had “brought him many thousands of
dollars.”5
It is not known if the trip materialized, but if
it did, Hennings was not among its ranks. Yet his
appetite must have been whetted, especially at
the end of the summer, when the Santa Fe–
based magazine El Palacio published an exuberant
assessment of Ufer and the emerging art scene
in New Mexico. For Ufer it held “infinite varieties
of moods and types,” and for the thirty artists
who by that date had established permanent or
summer homes there, it promised “a new and
more virile epoch in American art.”6
In Ufer’s mind and, soon, Hennings’s too, it
was the freshness and “Americanness” of New
Mexico that set it apart. A critique of Ufer that
appeared in the Fine Arts Journal at the time
revealed this awakened patriotic undercurrent,
especially in Taos. That provided a welcome
screen for painters of German descent like Ufer,
Hennings, Ernest Blumenschein, and Oscar
Berninghaus to shield themselves from growing
national anti-German sentiments caused by
the war in Europe. The Fine Arts Journal article
showed clearly the union of Munich training with
the southwestern environment and themes that
were causing a new American school of art to
take shape.
In his portraits, Mr. Ufer is very much
of the Munich school, solid, substantial,
workmanlike, serious and thorough, with a
broad but faithful realism suggestive of the
influence of the old masters. In his western
scenes he is vividly and picturesquely
American, with the spirit of the Aborigines.
He conveys to us an enjoyment of the
sunlight and the air and the freedom of
the desert and the mountains such as the
Indians themselves must feel.7
Another writer called the movement both “virile
and prophetic” and its members “prophets of an
American renaissance.”8
It was into this nationalistic vortex that
Hennings was drawn the next year . . . that, and
an ever-increasing commentary on the success
of his friends Ufer and Higgins. Nearly every
issue of the American Art Journal in spring
1917 announced new triumphs for these two
compatriots—museum honors and cash prizes,
sales to important patrons like the Union League
Club of Chicago, and one-man exhibitions. In one
such venue, a showing at the department store
of Carson, Pirie, Scott and Company, Ufer was
reported to have sold no fewer than fourteen
paintings.9
An article on “How to Help Artists” in the
Chicago Evening Post in late July announced
Hennings’s chance, at last, to explore the
Southwest for himself.
This year we have sent Martin Hennings
west; he will start in at the Grand Canyon
. . . and wind up his trip at Taos. He has
commissions for ten canvases for us. The
nice part of the scheme is that we get
good canvases at reasonable prices and
the artists have their trips financed for
them. They start out with sufficient orders
to pay all their expenses over a time in
which they can paint exhibition pictures as
well as canvases for general sale.10
Hennings reached Laguna Pueblo around the
first week of August. From there he wrote Ufer
in Taos, telling him he was painting mostly
landscapes since the Indian models for figure
work charged too much, a dollar an hour. He was
saving his money for Taos.
Hennings was formally introduced to the
state by the Santa Fe New Mexican newspaper
in early August. They presented him as “one of
the American artists who left Europe after the
outbreak of the war and now seeks ‘atmosphere’
in America for his art.”11 By the time he reached
Taos about three weeks later, Hennings
was convinced that New Mexico had all the
“atmosphere” an artist would need. He would
come to know many fellow artists who felt the
same way about the scene. A Taos Society of
Artists founder and exponent of modernism,
Ernest Blumenschein, said of his first exposure
to Taos that whole pictures emerged before
his eyes. And the international painter who had
exhibited with the Taos Society of Artists in
the early 1920s, Julius Rolshoven, had reacted
similarly, writing that “nowhere else have I seen
Nature provide everything, even the conception,
as it does in New Mexico.”12
Two of Hennings’s important paintings
were probably finished in Taos and brought
back for consortium members. They are both
figure paintings, suggesting that Taos’s models
were perhaps more accommodating than those
at Laguna Pueblo. One of the works, In New
Mexico, was acquired by the syndicate’s leader,
Carter Harrison. It is richly colorful and, though
TAOS AND THE ART OF E. MARTIN HENNINGS 95
 5.02
E. Martin Hennings, In
New Mexico, ca. 1917.
Oil on canvas; 33 × 36 in.
(83.82 × 91.44 cm).
Private collection

96
 posed, somewhat animated. A conversation study than In New Mexico. It, too, featured
takes place between the woman in the gateway Samora, this time taking a lesson from an elder.
and the man on the far left, Frank Samora, who It carries a moral message, not often seen in
subsequently became Hennings’s favorite model, Hennings’s works, that practical lessons handed
his handyman, and an honorary member of the down by example over generations were
artist’s family.
13
somehow more culturally binding than traditional
The other painting acquired by a syndicate Anglo book learning. Joseph Henry Sharp, one of
member went to Preston Harrison, Carter’s the founders of the Taos art colony, had famously
brother. Titled Stringing the Bow, it was relayed this same meaning a few years earlier in
essentially monochromatic but bolder as a figure his large oil The Broken Bow. Hennings’s version,
while less sentimental, is equally compelling.
Hennings was enchanted by the autumn
landscape in New Mexico. One such scene of
Indians passing beneath gold aspen boughs he
titled The Canyon Trail.14 The painting probably
dates to 1917 and is one, if not the first,
variation on a theme that Hennings explored
vigorously throughout the 1920s—mounted
Indians weaving through the wooded and
5.03 sagebrush-covered hills. One art historian has
E. Martin Hennings, referred to such hallmark works as Hennings’s
Stringing the Bow, 1917. Oil
on canvas; (size unknown). observation of “the eternal procession of life
Reproduced on the cover in New Mexico—a procession in which the
of the Bulletin of the Los
Taos Indians have participated for centuries.”15
Angeles Museum of History,
Science, and Art, Los Angeles, The dry, heightened palette and bold massing
California, April 1921. of form suggest some of Higgins’s abstracted
Ryerson and Burnham Archives,
The Art Institute of Chicago
landscapes of the period, and the clarity and
(N582.L7 A35 v. 1–5) realism are akin to Ufer’s treatments of similar

5.04
Joseph Henry Sharp,
The Broken Bow (Father
and Son), ca. 1912. Oil
on canvas; 44.5 × 59.25 in.
(113.03 × 150.49 cm). Buffalo Bill
Center of the West, Cody, Wyoming
(7.75)

TAOS AND THE ART OF E. MARTIN HENNINGS 97

 5.05
E. Martin Hennings,
By the Stream, 1917.
Oil on canvas; 36 × 40 in.
(91.44 × 101.6 cm).
Private collection

98

scenes.16 The bravura brushwork, though, comes
directly from Hennings’s Munich experience.
Another prototype for the future appeared in
an oil, By the Stream. It is a figure study of Indian
men and their horses set among the majestic
cottonwood trees that hug the creeks and rivers
around Taos. In its sophisticated compositional
balance of large forms, its high-keyed winter light,
its atmospheric clarity, and its chalky palette, By
the Stream serves as a counterbalance to The
Canyon Trail. The two works were both quite
modern, The Canyon Trail in gesture, and By the
Stream in design. They rest at opposite ends of
his early Taos vision—one a landscape in which
the figures play only an incidental role, and the
other, a large-scale figural work.
At this time, Higgins was spoken of as
“the most poetic man of the Indian school,” as
reflected in his 1918 masterpiece Fiesta Day.17
Hennings’s By the Stream, though its figures
are reduced in scale, shares a reverential tone
and enjoys some of the spiritual elegance of
Fiesta Day. In By the Stream, the atmosphere
5.06
W. Victor Higgins, Fiesta Day,
1918. Oil on canvas; 52 × 56 in.
(132.08 × 142.24 cm). Collection
of the Butler Institute of American Art,
Youngstown, Ohio
of vibrant winter light and the vitality created by
the dialogue between the men on either side of
the stream are engaging in their simple purity.
New Mexico had begun to work its charms on
Hennings.
Hennings left Taos in 1917 with fanfare. The
local newspaper proudly referred to him as “one
of our latest acquisitions to the Taos Art Colony”
and hoped that the time would “be short until he
is once again in our midst.”18 It would be three
years, though, before Taos would see him again.
Why the hiatus occurred is conjectural,
since he did not write about his reasons.
Perhaps Harrison could not generate
sufficient enthusiasm for another syndicate.
Hennings, whose demeanor was known to
be extraordinarily gentle, may have been a bit
overawed by Taos. Blumenschein wrote in 1917
that nearly one hundred artists crowded into
the little adobe villages of Taos and Santa Fe.19
Blumenschein also noted that he and his Taos
Society of Artists cronies had won not one but
four national awards in 1917, so the competition
TAOS AND THE ART OF E. MARTIN HENNINGS 99
 was daunting.20 A fellow Chicago artist, Gustave
Baumann, who visited Taos in 1918 for the first
time, determined not to settle there. He later
recalled, after moving to Santa Fe instead, that
Taos was “a wonderful place to work but difficult
to live in. A concentration of high-powered artists
brings it subtle problems.”21
Not until March 1921 did the Taos newspaper
happily announce that Hennings had returned
to the fold. He had been gone three years and
had “many friends and acquaintances who are
glad to see him.” Taos became his home, his
22
studio, and his muse. The renowned journalist
and southwest promoter Charles Lummis
had famously written back in 1908 that the
Southwest was an artists’ paradise. He said, “I
cherish the . . . hope to live long enough to see
the Southwest discovered by artists big enough
to try it—at least big enough to try to try. When
they discover it, they will begin to discover
100 A PLACE IN THE SUN
themselves.”23 Hennings was the fulfillment of
Lummis’s dream.
Frank Samora once again came to work for
Hennings. For the painting His Dance Bonnet
(1921), Samora posed in a windowed interior
with unlikely, elaborately decorated floral paint
or wallpaper. He regards an eagle feather war
bonnet that suggests a connection with an
invented past and an ersatz Pueblo cultural
legacy. The bonnet is a northern Plains article and
a borrowed studio prop. The Pueblo historically
had not used such head gear. Nonetheless,
Hennings’s intentions were to create a sense of
poetic reflection and cultural amalgamation—the
Pueblo Indian with the Plains bonnet situated in
the Anglo interior. Beautifully painted and richly
colored, the oil found its way into the Corcoran
Gallery of Art’s annual exhibition later that year.
It stands out for its interiority, its blending of
cultural traditions, and its sense of reverie.
5.07
E. Martin Hennings, His
Dance Bonnet, 1921.
Oil on canvas; 40 × 36 in.
(101.6 × 91.44 cm). Private
collection, Montana
5.08
E. Martin Hennings,
A Friendly Encounter, ca. 1922.
Oil on canvas; 45 × 50 in.
(114.3 × 127 cm). Denver Art
Museum, The Roath Collection by
exchange; William Sr. and Dorothy
Harmsen Collection by exchange; funds
from Henry Roath, Lanny and Sharon
Martin, 2013 Collectors’ Choice, and
the Second Decade Fund (2014.28)

101

 5.09
E. Martin Hennings, sketch
for A Friendly Encounter,
5.10
ca. 1922. Pencil on paper.
E. Martin Hennings at work
Photograph from microfilm.
in Hondo Canyon, ca. 1925.
Smithsonian Institution, Archives of
Photograph from microfilm.
American Art
Smithsonian Institution, Archives of
American Art

Other paintings, like A Friendly Encounter,
were placed directly on the market. In May 1922
Hennings, following Ufer’s earlier example,
secured a one-man exhibition at Marshall
Field and Company. The Chicago Evening Post
applauded the exhibit, reporting that it was
“creating a sensation” and that Hennings,
in contrast to the other Taos luminaries, had
presented a fresh “new message.” The writer
concluded that “Mr. Hennings has conquered in
his adventures at Taos. The exhibition is one of
the important ones of the hour.”24
So, what was the “new message” that the
critic appended to this and Hennings’s other
line, and clearly flush with the embrace of joy.
Although one might assume that A Friendly
Encounter was completed in the mountains (it
is known that the artists took models with them
into the backcountry), it probably evolved in
stages. Pencil sketches may have been made
in situ to consider compositional options and
the landscape portion placed on the canvas to
assure quality of light and veracity of color. But
the figures were probably posed near the artist’s
studio after returning to Taos, as can be seen in 5.11
the sequence of two scenes showing Hennings’s Hennings at work in Taos,
ca. 1925. Photograph from
work on an unknown painting from the 1920s microfilm. Smithsonian Institution,
(figures 5.10 and 5.11). Archives of American Art

work of 1922? The critic did not elaborate, so it

can only be conjectured that what was intended
here was a nod to a fresh unbridled sense of
joy packaged in a tableau that revealed man’s
innocence before the elegant glories of nature.
Other luminaries in the Taos art community
were moving in other directions, for example,
Blumenschein with his highly designed,
symbolic and politically freighted paintings, and
Couse’s increasingly mystical eulogies. Hennings
presented relatively uncomplicated scenes,
ones ebullient with light, graced with elegant

102 A PLACE IN THE SUN

5.12
E. Martin Hennings, The
Prospector’s Cabin, 1922.
Oil on canvas; 45 × 50 in.
(114.3 × 127 cm). Private collection

103

 5.13
E. Martin Hennings, The
Twins, 1923. Oil on canvas;
40 × 43 in. (101.6 × 109.22 cm).
Eiteljorg Museum of American
Indians and Western Art,
Indianapolis

104

5.14
W. Herbert “Buck” Dunton,
Lilly, Big Game Hunter, ca.
1921. Oil on canvas; 48 × 48 in.
(121.92 × 121.92 cm). Private
collection
In spring 1923, before heading west to
Taos, Hennings finagled his second one-man
exhibition at Marshall Field and Company.
One Chicago newspaper claimed that “Mr.
Hennings enjoyed the Taos country in a way of
his own and saw the . . . natural aspects as no
previous painter had conceived it.”25 Observers
particularly responded to what had developed
into a distinct decorative style.
One of the paintings that appeared at
Marshall Field that spring was a large oil, The
Prospector’s Cabin. The Marshall Field display,
which later moved to the Art Institute of Chicago
as a one-man summer show, was so popular
that it was continued into the fall.26 There it was
regarded as “one of the best one-man shows the
museum has had in a long time.” Walter Ufer and
Victor Higgins, the reviewer admonished, “will
have to look to their laurels.”
27
With a series of exceptionally zealous and
technically skillful works, Hennings made the step
into the big time in summer 1923. He would be
quoted five years later, in his modest way: “It was
during the third year [in Taos, 1923] that three of
my pictures took prizes. Of course, they brought
recognition.”28 At least in Chicago, he was now
recognized as a peer of Higgins and Ufer. One of
the paintings that brought him fame was titled
The Twins. This might be considered the first
in a series of paintings depicting larger-than-
life common western males, some Anglo and
others Hispanic, whom Hennings invested with
epic stature and virtues, such as independence,
dignity, and simplicity, that were stereotypically
identified with the West. The Baumgartner
brothers, Jake and George portrayed here, were
transient laborers who harkened from Illinois
and reminded their Taos neighbors of “pioneers
of other days.”29 So they were pictured as
anachronistic curiosities, but being part of Taos
life, they were also representative of what New
York art critic Giles Edgerton described as the
“charm” of “modern conditions” in the quaint
corner of New Mexico.30 This presented a change
for Hennings from the normal mythic, pastoral,
romantic view of the Southwest that he had
heretofore celebrated. This oil and a second
version coincide with the large figure paintings
that Herbert Dunton, Hennings’s Taos compatriot,
was producing at the time, like Lilly, Big Game
Hunter. Both artists continued through the 1920s
to feature heroically scaled common men as
central themes in their art, thus elevating the
stature of common western folk.
As bold, sunbaked, and uncompromisingly
direct as The Twins was, Hennings retained
his more decorative, mystical, contemplative
side in the early masterpiece Passing By. Here
three Indians ride through a riverbed shaded by
majestic golden cottonwoods. The front pair of
riders converses casually, while the third rider
appears lost in thought. The graceful branches
of the central tree seem to embrace the men,
entwining them in their enveloping reach. This is
about natural man and his ideal perfectibility in
nature; the riders reside in spiritual space.
TAOS AND THE ART OF E. MARTIN HENNINGS 105
 Passing By was an expression of what art
historian Emily Ballew Neff has called Hennings’s
most “modernist idiom,” an adaptation of past
Jugendstil grace, elegance, and pictorial poetry.
When Passing By was first exhibited nationally at
the Corcoran Gallery of Art in 1923, it was lauded
for its astonishing “originality of conception and
beauty of design,” rather than as a romanticized
vision of contemporary Indian life.32 This
painting for Hennings represented an apex of
accomplishment as he gradually moved his art
toward a more perfect synthesis of personal
temperament, formalist constraint, and fertile
imagination.
Hennings developed a variation on the
theme presented in Passing By in which
horsemen, scattered strategically across the
controlled spatial order of the picture, meander
through the cedar and greasewood. Instead of
a golden tapestry at their backs, this variation
features cloud-dappled blue skies and the
rugged profile of mountains beyond. Through
the Greasewood, probably painted in 1922,
reveals the sophistication of his compositional
organization and, as the art magazine the Mentor
remarked, his extraordinary ability to capture the
“radiant atmosphere of the Southwest.”33
Hennings also explored, in at least a couple
of oils, the idea of grouping multiple large figures
around a single activity. In a shallow treatment of
the picture plane, the opposite of the expansive
depth seen in Through the Greasewood, he
established a complex set of relational patterns
between boldly drawn, richly textured figures.
The first such effort was his painting Pueblo
Indians. Each person portrayed serves a different
function in the task of baking bread. They each
present a distinct pose and direction. The
focal point is the dough being gently placed
into the oven, which effectively resolves what
would otherwise be a dispersive composition.
The painting also addressed two notions of
significance at the time, one of a village in which
all participate in the perpetuation of life, as the
artists themselves were doing for the town
106 A PLACE IN THE SUN
of Taos, and the other, larger statement about
preserving Indian cultural traditions.
For as ambitious a picture as it was, so
31
inviting in storyline and richly colorful, Pueblo
Indians fared poorly in the marketplace. But
another figure study of the same scale, though
about stoic men and oration rather than women,
children, and the production of daily bread, had
a very different history. Titled Announcements,
it featured a strongly pyramidal composition.
A tribal spokesman addresses his people
below. Silhouetted against a rich blue mountain
background, the scene is bathed in brilliant
light, exuding potency and a sense of solemn
duty. In contrast with Pueblo Indians, it mirrors
male rather than feminine values and in a sexist
way is broader in scope, with its attention on
tribal, or communal, concerns as opposed to
the fulfillment of simple familial needs. Even
the sexual connotations of the two works, one
inwardly convergent and nurturing and the
other erect and extrinsically focused, differ
openly. Announcements was probably painted
in response to the efforts of the federal Bureau
of Indian Affairs in the early 1920s to acculturate
the Pueblo people, expropriate their lands, and
outlaw their ceremonies. A cadre of Taos writers,
artists, and activists spearheaded a campaign to
squelch such bitter imperatives. In the end, they
succeeded.
At the tenth annual meeting of the Taos
Society of Artists, Hennings was nominated
for membership, and a few days later, the Taos
Valley News notified the town that he and
Catherine Critcher “were elected new members
of the Society.”34 Even though the society was
beginning to wane in influence about this time,
its usefulness as a group that circulated sales
exhibitions nationwide was still a powerful draw.35
In the March 1924 issue of Art News, a
reviewer of the traveling Taos Society of Artists
exhibition, then on display in Detroit, made a
telling observation about the most prevalent
theme among the society members, the Indian.
The reviewer wrote, “The Indian, as a painter’s
5.15
E. Martin Hennings, Passing
By, ca. 1924. Oil on canvas;
44 × 49 in. (111.76 × 124.46 cm).
Museum of Fine Arts, Houston,
Texas, gift of the Ranger Fund,
National Academy of Design/
Bridgeman Images

107

 5.16
E. Martin Hennings,
Through the Greasewood,
ca. 1922. Oil on canvas;
45 × 43 in. (114.3 × 109.22 cm).
Collection of Richard and
Nedra Matteucci

108
5.17
E. Martin Hennings, Pueblo
Indians, no date. Oil
on canvas; 44.625 × 49.5 in.
(113.35 × 125.73 cm). Gilcrease
Museum, Tulsa, Oklahoma
(0137.2199)

109

 subject, has gone a bit stale, and it is too bad
to let the ubiquitous [E. Irving] Couse red skin
dominate in the Taos exhibition. Most of the
other men are doing more interesting work.”36
Perhaps partly as a result of this, and following
on the great success of The Twins, Hennings
embarked on two large Hispanic figure works
once he settled into his Taos studio in 1925.
One of the canvases was a brilliantly backlit
full-length portrait of a Hispanic man standing
solidly in the foreground, looking out at the
viewer with a sizable rifle cradled in his right arm.
Titled Mexican Sheep Herder, it pictures an old
timer guarding his flock. The shifts of shadow
and light in the background and across the figure
provide a stunning sense of special depth and
breathe vitality into the herder. The companion
work, The Goat Herder, is not so compelling in
its celebration of the profession. The protagonist
turns his back to the viewer, shifting the focus
from the man to his flock. Though it is engaging
in its embrace of the bucolic scene, it fails to
win audience attention because the portrayed
individual lacks presence.
Of the two paintings, Mexican Sheep Herder
received the most renown. It was exhibited at
the Art Institute the year it was painted, then
went on to Detroit, Buffalo, Philadelphia, and
even Paris. When it returned to the United States
in 1928, Hennings showed it triumphantly in 5.18
an exhibit at the Illinois Women’s Athletic Club. E. Martin Hennings,
It “dominates the show,” wrote a local critic, Announcements, ca. 1924.
Oil on canvas; 43.19 × 45 in.
“standing head and shoulders above the rest (109.69 × 114.3 cm).
of the pictures. Only a trace of the modern Pennsylvania Academy of the
Fine Arts, Philadelphia, Joseph E.
tendency is apparent in this work. It is really a Temple Fund (1925.10)
conservative canvas in almost every respect,
but alive, vibrant, possessing the best features
of its school synthesized with the strength and
freshness of a modern brush.”37 Hennings, who
eschewed identity with the modernists of his day
(cubists, expressionists, and even proponents
of the emerging art deco), was, without doubt,
pleased by the assessment. His modernism
remained faithful to the tenets of art nouveau,
whose grace and elegance he found resplendent

110 A PLACE IN THE SUN

5.19
E. Martin Hennings, Mexican
Sheep Herder, 1925. Oil
on canvas; 45.25 × 50 in.
(114.93 × 127 cm). Stark Museum
of Art, Orange, Texas (31.32.28)

5.20
E. Martin Hennings,
The Goat Herder, 1925–27.
Oil on canvas; 45 × 50 in.
(114.3 × 127 cm). Private
collection

111

 in the Taos landscape and flora, and in the Indian
blankets and pottery.
In the mid-1920s, Hennings chose to create
a group of small, exquisite close-up portraits
of Indian subjects. Sometimes they pictured
females, as in Juanita, which, while focusing
on the foreground figure in gorgeous detail,
champions with its backdrop the dignity of
domestic and communal labor first presented in
Pueblo Indians. But most of the portraits were
of males, and many of those portrayed a single
individual, such as Untitled (Portrait) and Taos
Profile. They were highly finished paintings,
probably intended for sale to less affluent
patrons who could not afford large oils. One of
Hennings’s most avid collectors, Oscar Mayer of
Chicago, bought a number of these inexpensive
oils. In Hennings’s Untitled (Portrait of Frank
Samora), the sitter is placed beneath a window
that sheds light over the figure and the adobe
wall behind him. Some pots are scattered in the
foreground, and Frank, draped in a black and
red blanket, is focused on wrapping one of his
braids in red stroud cloth. The quotidian nature
of Frank’s activity and the consuming interiority
of the scene provide an embracing naturalism to
the picture while also highlighting the particular
quietude of a personal moment. As a Chicago
critic, Eleanor Jewett, would remember such
works a few years later, they were filled with joy,
with “sunshine, and in a subtle way, life . . . 5.21
love . . . and passion.” There was something of E. Martin Hennings, Juanita,
ca. 1925. Oil on canvas;
a “magic feeling” to these intimate paintings
20 × 24 in. (50.8 × 60.96 cm).
“as came from his brush when he made New Fred Jones Jr. Museum of Art,
Mexico his home.”38 University of Oklahoma, Norman,
given in memory of Roxanne P. Thams
But in one of Hennings’s more complex by William H. Thams, 2003
paintings of the period, The Rabbit Hunt,
the exquisite miniature gave way to more
monumental composition and conception. While
it would appear to be a pleasant genre scene
featuring two hunters with rifles and a boy,
one of Hennings’s favorite sunbaked youthful
models, on horseback as a flusher, there is in
fact much more going on here. As with Ufer but
unlike many of the other Taos artists, including

112 A PLACE IN THE SUN

5.22
E. Martin Hennings, Untitled
(Portrait of Frank Samora),
ca. 1925. Oil on canvas;
30 × 35 in. (76.2 × 88.9 cm).
Ray and Kay Harvey Collection

113

 5.23
E. Martin Hennings,
Untitled (Portrait), ca. 1925.
Oil on board; 14 × 14 in.
(35.56 × 35.56 cm). Koshare
Indian Museum, La Junta, Colorado

5.24
E. Martin Hennings,
Taos Profile, date unknown.
Oil on canvas laid on board;
13.5 × 13.5 in. (34.29 × 34.29 cm).
Collection of Lanny and Sharon Martin

114
5.25
E. Martin Hennings, The
Rabbit Hunt, ca. 1925. Oil
on canvas; 35.5 × 39.5 in.
(90.17 × 100.33 cm). Denver
Art Museum, The William Sr.
and Dorothy Harmsen Collection
(2001.449)

115

 Couse, Phillips, and Sharp, Hennings chose, as
Harrison had encouraged him to do, to select a
group of modern Indians for his hunting scene.
Those other artists would have clothed the
hunters in buckskin leggings and adorned them
with bows and arrows. Hennings preferred to
portray the dignity of contemporary life rather
than anachronistic reveries of imagined times
past. That does not mean Hennings was not
concerned with time, for the mounted youth
shows an Indian world in transition. He wears
moccasins but also a white oxford shirt, khaki
pants, and a necktie. Many of the artists had
pressed for the preservation of customs,
language, hair length, and ceremonials, but
Hennings at least, along with Ufer, also viewed
Indians as living, adaptable people who could
make their own choices in life.
Throughout the spring of 1926, the Taos
newspaper wrote about a new development in
Hennings’s life. He was engaged to be married,
and on his anticipated return to Taos in June, they
wrote, “he will be accompanied by a bride.”39 But
after the artist married Helen Otte, he swished
her off to Europe (this was possible because the
war was over), where they spent the next year
and a half.
When a show of Hennings’s European
paintings traveled to New York’s Milch Galleries,
the artist agreed to an interview in the Christian
Science Monitor. Although the interview never 5.26
E. Martin Hennings,
mentions his European work, it does provide Running Through the
a unique insight into the artist’s life and vision. Chamisa—Winter, 1928.
Oil on canvas; 43 × 45 in.
Unlike other artists who were quoted at great (109.22 × 114.3 cm). Private
length in the papers from a young age, Hennings collection

never was. This, then, was the first opportunity

for people to hear his voice.
Among the things Hennings confided in the
interviewer were that he had found himself as
an artist only through lengthy exposure to New
Mexico, a place especially rich in “possibilities
for landscape and figure composition.” He
confessed that his development as a painter
was a gradual thing, one not sidetracked by
“experimentation,” which he equated with

116 A PLACE IN THE SUN

modernism. And modernism, he said, just
“doesn’t interest me.” The organic beauty of
interlaced patterns inspired by Jugendstil’s
mantra, along with a gradually heightened
intensity to his palette, were about as far as
Hennings was comfortable going. Rather than
exploring current trends, Hennings simply
expected certain “fundamentals to be observed,
which must embody all the elements of art
which I term draftsmanship, design, form,
rhythm, color.”40 For him, the modernists,
through their various “isms,” seemed to lose
sight of individual expression. “Art must of
necessity be the artist’s own reaction to nature
and his personal style is governed by his own
temperament, rather than by a style molded
through his intellect.” He had concluded
that modernism was actuated primarily by
presumptuous affectation, arrogant intolerance,
and a simplistic compunction “to be different.”
“Its whole tendency seems to smother rather
than bring out the personal feeling of the artist.”
“Progress in art,” he concluded, “comes not
from revolution but from evolution.”41 Whatever
the reasons, he thought of himself as decidedly
and inexorably conservative.
Following their Chicago homecoming,
Martin and Helen Hennings made their next
debut in Taos in August 1928. It may have
been during the ensuing winter months that he
painted his magical work Running Through the
Chamisa—Winter. In its decorative elegance
and broad, large planar areas of alternating light
and dark, this canvas is, his protestations to the
contrary, surprisingly modern, especially with
the mounted figures obscured by the delicate
tendrils of the dried sunflowers. When a group
of the Taos artists exhibited at the Corcoran
Gallery of Art in 1928, the American Magazine
of Art observed a difference in their work from
previous years. “Whereas the representations
of this school a few years ago were primarily
illustrative in their works, they are now
interpretive, and . . . a certain decorative quality
has crept in as the larger meaning of life has
been manifest to them.”42 Hennings exhibited in
that show and was part, perhaps reluctantly, of a
more modern trend.
In a subsequent exhibition of recent works at
the Chicago Galleries Association in April 1929,
his aspen-filled landscapes brought claims of
him being “brilliant and sure,” not his Indians,
who were left simply to “ride or wait among”
the trees.43 Another reviewer observed that
Hennings was not so much a part any more of
the “peaceful donning of the war bonnet” set,
but rather “at his best concentrates on nature
in the Indian country—a clump of green birches
[sic] in spring or a stream in winter—and refines
upon it until one feels that he is much more
interested in some new discovery in nature
than in following the Taos formula.”44 One of
the paintings he produced the next year, The
Rendezvous, exemplified this approach, in which
the decorative grace of nature supersedes the
Indian motif.
Given Hennings’s stylistic proclivity for
grace and elegance of line, his fascination with
the folds and subtle shadowing of drapery,
and a fondness for rendering the pulses and
rhythms of nature and Pueblo Indian life, it is
understandable that he would, in the mid-1930s,
turn his attentions to Native music. Many of
his fellow Taos artists had been pressing for a
decade to influence federal agencies to respect
Native cultural traditions like language, religious
beliefs, and art forms such as music. Hennings’s
masterpiece in whites, blue, and brown, Taos
Indian Chanters with Drum, may have been his
reaction to that movement.
Here, two young musicians stare pensively
at a drum. The motion of the drummer’s arm and
stick is frozen in midstroke, and the accompanist
appears to be partway through moving his arms
up and down to match the cadence. They are
both singing, and the suggested purity of their
joined voices is reflected in the symphony of
whites that permeates the picture’s palette.
Unlike similar scenes as made popular by
Hennings’s compatriots Joseph Henry Sharp
TAOS AND THE ART OF E. MARTIN HENNINGS 117
 5.27
E. Martin Hennings, The
Rendezvous, ca. 1925.
Oil on canvas; 30 × 30 in.
(76.2 × 76.2 cm). Denver Art
Museum, The Roath Collection
(2013.95)

118
5.28
E. Martin Hennings, Taos
Indian Chanters with Drum,
ca. 1935. Oil on canvas;
45 × 43 in. (114.3 × 109.22 cm).
Phoenix Art Museum, purchase
with funds provided by Western
Art Associates in honor of their
twentieth anniversary (1987.15)

119


and E. Irving Couse, which show singers and
drummers in reverential surroundings, kneeling or
seated beside glowing hearth fires, Taos Indian
Chanters with Drum is modern in composition,
alive with natural light and youth, and motivated
by contemporary sounds rather than historical
musing.
In the early 1940s, Hennings withdrew into
the life of Taos. He continued to make extended
forays into the mountains to paint autumn colors.
The results of such travels appeared at the
Museum of New Mexico, which, in late 1942,
featured a whole gallery devoted to nothing but
“aspen pictures.” When asked that year about
45
his favorite subject, Hennings put “Aspen in their
full glory” at the top of his list. “Nowhere,” he
said, “can you find such color, such enchanting
120 A PLACE IN THE SUN
5.29
E. Martin Hennings,
Going Home, ca. 1945.
Oil on canvas; 36 × 40 in.
(91.44 × 101.6 cm). Private
collection
contrasts.” But it was really to the town of Taos
that he was indebted. As he put it, “I feel I owe
what honors I have achieved to Taos and its
subject matter.”46
Yet for all the brilliant optimism that Hennings
invested in his aspen paintings, there was also,
of course, a brooding pall of uncertainty during
the war years. Although he had not, by 1943,
exhibited in Chicago or nationally for a decade,
he was forced that year to seek patronage in his
old hometown. Pleading abandonment—“the
gas rationing has almost left the Taos colony high
and dry, as it is some 75 miles from Santa Fe, the
nearest railroad point”—he sent a selection of his
most recent paintings to be shown at his trusty
market venue Marshall Field.47
That uncertainty also found its way into
Hennings’s paintings. One oil in particular from
this period, Going Home, suggests a faltering
certitude. Going Home, with its stunning and
imposing clouds, offers an air of foreboding.
Here, Hennings diverts from his normal arboreal
treatment—the figures are dwarfed by looming
clouds and foreboding hills, and they march, in a
shadowed line, away from the viewer.
Then, in 1945, as the war came to a close,
Hennings could tell an interviewer that he had
a burgeoning “market in Texas and N.M.,”
and that, once again, he had “discontinued
Chicago.”48 He organized a seven-city show
of his recent work to circulate around New
Mexico. It toured for almost a year. An Exhibition
of Paintings by E. Martin Hennings was its
unpretentious title, and it had its final stop at
the Art Gallery of the Museum of New Mexico
in Santa Fe, the institution that had, in fact,
initially welcomed him to New Mexico and had
sponsored the current tour. 49
A dozen years earlier, when Hennings was
exhibiting in Los Angeles, a reporter had made
the observation, “Hennings is essentially a
lyricist. One finds no dark under-hints of nature’s
impersonal power.” Now, these new works
50
mirrored what had found such popularity before.
A painting titled Flight, which did not travel with
the exhibition, was not just lyrical, it was exalted.
Hennings had commented in the exhibition
catalogue that “New Mexico has almost made
a landscape painter out of me.”51 Mabel Dodge
Luhan, in her 1947 book Taos and Its Artists,
proclaimed him the “true pastoral painter.”52 She
was so enchanted by the oil Flight that it became
the sole illustration of Hennings’s work in this, her
last published book. “This is a rare vision,” she
wrote, “to see the gentle landscape before one,
the birds rising in the flocks before the fallen seed
of the fields, the pale, amiable sky above flecked
with soft white clouds; it is so soothing, pleasant
and reassuring in our very tremulous period.”53
The joy of life that invests these late
landscapes belied severe health conditions that
had begun to hinder Hennings’s production and
would lead eventually to his demise. In 1954
he suffered the first of two heart attacks. The
second, in May 1956, would claim his life. Martin
Hennings was, according to the writer Ruth
Watson who met him when he was in his fifties
in 1942, a “tall lean soft-spoken man,” whose
“quick smile lightened up his rugged features.”
His “sense of friendliness and naturalness” made
those who encountered him feel immediately
welcome. He was, as Watson remembered,
“one of the most unpretentious people I have
ever known.”54 Humility came naturally to him,
as did his professional dedication to art and his
unbending allegiance to Beaux arts and the
slightly more avant-garde Jugendstil traditions
of technique and style. He knew, and loved,
and painted a wide variety of American western
life as presented in Taos and its environs. His
daughter, Helen, said it best on the occasion of
his one hundredth anniversary exhibition at the
Museum of Fine Arts in Santa Fe.
Martin Hennings was a gentle man, kind
and compassionate, with an unending
supply of patience. His work illustrates his
calmness of spirit, his oneness with nature.
The Taos Indians he painted had similar
qualities and this sameness attracted and
inspired him.55
TAOS AND THE ART OF E. MARTIN HENNINGS 121
 NOTES
Epigraph: Hennings to John A. Campbell, July 10, 1928,
E. Martin Hennings Papers, Archives of American Art,
Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C.
1. See the untitled article in the Peoria Journal, March 26,
1916, for a review in this light of one of Hennings’s
portraits shown in that city.
2. S
 ee “Chicago Exhibition,” Bulletin of the Art Institute of
Chicago 10 (April 1916): 178, and “Our American Artists:
E. Martin Hennings, Chicago,” Progressive Magazine,
September 1, 1928.
3. For a full description of the Commission for the
Encouragement of Local Art and Higgins’s role, see Dean
Porter, Victor Higgins: An American Master (Salt Lake City,
Utah: Peregrine Smith Books, 1991), 39–40.
4. “Chicago,” American Art News 14 (April 5, 1916): 7.
5. Clipping fragment, “Walter Ufer Back from Art Trips,”
Chicago Examiner, November 1915, scrapbooks, Palette
and Chisel Club Records, 1895–1976, Newberry Library,
Chicago.
6. “
 The Santa Fe–Taos Art Colony,” El Palacio 3 (August
1916): 75.
7. A
 nne Lisle Booth, “Two Moods of a Forceful Artist,” Fine
Arts Journal 34, no. 5 (May 1916): 221–26.
8. Paul A. F. Walter, “The Santa Fe–Taos Art Movement,”
Art and Archaeology 4 (December 1916): 330.
9. S
 ee the Edward Watts Russell “Chicago” entries in the
American Art Journal 15 (February 10, 1917): 4, 15 (March
3, 1917): 6, and 15 (March 24, 1917): 6, for example.
10. Carter H. Harrison, Jr., “How to Help Artists,” Chicago
Evening Post, July 24, 1917.
11. C
 arter Harrison, Jr., to the secretary of the New Mexican
Historical Society, July 1, 1917, Hennings Papers.
12. “
 Artists Portraying Taos Indians Form New School,”
Kansas City Times, February 18, 1918.
13. For a description of the relationship between Samora
and Hennings, see the untitled biographical sketch by his
daughter, Helen H. Winton, typescript attached to her
letter to Sandra D’Emilio, June 12, 1986, Hennings Papers.
14. This work may also have been acquired by Carter Harrison
upon the artist’s return to Chicago. It belongs to the Board
of Education of the City of Chicago. It may have been one
of several paintings that Harrison donated to the Carter
H. Harrison Technical High School in 1927. See “Gifts and
Bequests: Another Gift by Carter Harrison,” El Palacio 22
(June 18, 1927): 547.
15. P
 atricia Janis Broder, Taos: A Painter’s Dream (Boston:
New York Graphic Society, 1980), 255.
16. See Judith A. Barter, ed., Window on the West: Chicago
and the Art of the New Frontier, 1890–1940 (Chicago: Art
Institute of Chicago, 2003), 68.
122 A PLACE IN THE SUN
17. “Chicago,” American Art News 16 (February 23, 1918): 7.
18. “Locals,” Taos Valley News, December 18, 1917.
19. E
 rnest L. Blumenschein, “The Taos Society of Artists,”
American Magazine of Art 8 (September 1917): 451.
20. Ibid.
21. G
 ustave Baumann, “Gustave Baumann Takes Backward
Look at 80 Years,” Santa Fe New Mexican, April 2, 1961.
22. “Locals,” Taos Valley News, March 29, 1921.
23. Charles F. Lummis, “The Artists’ Paradise,” part 2, Out
West 22 (1908): 191.
24. “The Art Dealers,” Chicago Evening Post, May 9, 1922.
A Friendly Encounter continued to play in the press over
the remainder of the decade. A Christian Science Monitor
article in 1929 must have resulted from an interview
with the artist about the picture’s creation. The reporter
recounted the story that the oil developed from an autumn
trip Hennings took with a group of painters into the Sierra
Madre. It was supposedly conceived near the historic
abandoned mining town of Twining. “Gradually,” the
writer reported, “the picture that Mr. Hennings was seek-
ing became clear to him. The lovely aspens on the rolling
mountain side formed the background and two Indians
about to go into the forest . . . supplied the figures.”
Untitled clipping from the Christian Science Monitor,
March 1, 1929, Hennings Papers.
25. Untitled clipping inscribed 1923, Hennings Papers.
26. “
 The Exhibitions of Chicago Artists,” Bulletin of the
Art Institute of Chicago 17 (September 1923): 58, and
“Exhibitions—October–December, 1923,” Bulletin of the
Art Institute of Chicago 17 (October 1923): 74.
27. U
 ntitled clipping, Chicago Tribune, September 9, 1923,
Hennings Papers.
28. “E. Martin Hennings,” Christian Science Monitor, April 23,
1928. According to a typescript biography used by
Hennings’s widow, Helen, after his death, his recollection
was only partly correct, Hennings Papers. All three awards
came from the Art Institute of Chicago, two in 1922 (Fine
Arts Building Prize and the Carr Prize) and one in 1923
(Cahn Prize).
29. “The Artists Colony Corner,” Taos Valley News, August
25, 1923.
30. G
 iles Edgerton, “A Group of Brilliant New Mexico
Painters,” Arts and Decoration 20, no. 2 (December
1923): 64.
31. Emily Ballew Neff, The Modern West: American
Landscapes, 1890–1950 (New Haven, Conn.: Yale
University Press, 2006), 138.
32. Clyde H. Burroughs, “Director Burroughs Gives Impression
of Big Show,” Detroit News, December 30, 1923.
33. “Through the Greasewood,” Mentor 12 (July 1924): 2.
34. See “Personals,” Taos Valley News, November 14, 1922.
 35. B
 lumenschein had quit the organization the year before,
and Dunton resigned formally at the July 1924 meeting.
36. Q
 uoted in “The Artists Colony Corner,” Taos Valley News,
March 15, 1924.
37. Charles Victor Knox, “Illinois Women’s Athletic Club,”
Chicago Evening Post, March 6, 1928.
38. Eleanor Jewett, “Paintings by E. Martin Hennings,”
Chicago Daily News, January 1, 1928.
39. “
 The Artists Colony Corner,” Taos Valley News, March 26,
1926.
40. Blumenschein referred in the late 1920s to many of these
same elements as his “fundamental principles” and
“religion.” They included for him color, rhythm, dynamism,
nobility, good proportion, and design ingenuity. See Peter
H. Hassrick and Elizabeth J. Cunningham, In Contemporary
Rhythm: The Art of Ernest L. Blumenschein (Norman:
University of Oklahoma Press, 2008), 187–90.
41. I. K., “E. Martin Hennings,” Christian Science Monitor,
April 23, 1928.
42. L
 . M., “The Eleventh Exhibition of Contemporary
American Oil Paintings,” American Magazine of Art 19
(December 1928): 689.
43. E
 leanor Jewett, “Some Graphic Landscapes,” Chicago
Daily Tribune, April 21, 1929.
44. Marguerite B. Williams, “Now Indian Art of Two Kinds
Headlines Chicago Galleries,” Chicago Daily News, April 24,
1929.
45. “Exhibition of Aspen Paintings,” El Palacio 49 (November
1942): 252.
46. Ruth Watson, “He Thanks Taos for His Fame,” Desert
Magazine 5, no. 8 (June 1942): 11.
47. Eleanor Jewett, “Water Colors by E. P. Cole on
Exhibition,” Chicago Daily Tribune, May 23, 1943.
48. A
 typescript titled “E. Martin Hennings” from a 1945
interview by someone whose initials were MC made in
advance of a traveling exhibition, An Exhibition of Paintings
by E. Martin Hennings, organized by the Museum of New
Mexico, Santa Fe, in New Mexico Museum of Art Library
and Archives, Santa Fe.
49. See Reginald Fisher, “E. Martin Hennings, Artist of Taos,”
El Palacio 53 (August 1946): 212–13.
50. A
 n unidentified clipping inscribed “Los Angeles/1932,”
Hennings Papers.
51. F
 isher, “E. Martin Hennings,” and Mabel Dodge Luhan,
Taos and Its Artists (New York: Duell, Sloan, and Pearce,
1947), 37.
52. Luhan, Taos and Its Artists, 37.
53. Ibid., 37–38.
54. Watson, “He Thanks Taos.”
55. Helen H. Winton, typescript biographical sketch, 1986,
New Mexico Museum of Art Library and Archives,
Santa Fe.
TAOS AND THE ART OF E. MARTIN HENNINGS 123
 6 GLIMPSING MODERNITY
(Detail)
E. Martin Hennings, Going
to Blue Lake, date unknown.
(See figure 6.07, page 133)
Images of Labor, Passage, and Change
Catherine Whitney
The Taos paintings of Walter Ufer and E.
Martin Hennings, like much of the work by
fellow members of the Taos Society of Artists
(TSA), are frequently cast as traditional images
perpetuating a backward-looking aesthetic of
a romanticized American Southwest. Rarely
are they associated with more progressive
movements of America’s interwar period. Ufer’s
lusciously painted scenes of Pueblo laborers
squinting in the midday sun and Hennings’s
Indian travelers fading into elegantly foliaged
passageways are seemingly unadventurous in
style and subject when compared with works by
modernists Marsden Hartley, John Marin, and
Georgia O’Keeffe, all of whom painted in New
Mexico after 1918. Hennings and Ufer seem
traditional and restrained even compared to their
contemporaries from the more experimental
Santa Fe Art Colony farther south. Much like
the wider American art colony movement of the
early twentieth century, which encouraged plein
air painting in celebration of the great outdoors,
the early Taos painters contributed to a decidedly
antimodernist undercurrent in American art that
was both nostalgic in inspiration and deeply tied
to place.1 But are their works entirely unmodern?
Certain Taos paintings by Ufer and Hennings,
particularly images addressing themes of
labor and passage, offer veiled glimpses of a
changing modernity. By widening a definition
of modernism to include Ufer’s gritty realist
subjects painted from life and Hennings’s
graceful lyricism, which selectively adapted
European design movements to fit his own self-
125
proclaimed brand of realism, a more complex
picture of their engagement with their era
emerges. Through this more nuanced lens,
select realist scenes by both artists dating from
1917 to 1945 can be seen to parallel, if not
forecast, more abstract influences and social
reform movements that changed the face of
American art, despite both artists’ training
and nationally recognized engagement in the
academic painting establishment of the early
twentieth century.
✜
Nineteen seventeen was a pivotal and exciting
year for both painters and for the state of art in
New Mexico in general. In November, the new
museum in Santa Fe opened its doors to much
pomp and fanfare, with an inaugural exhibition
featuring forty established and emerging artists.
The Dedication Exhibit of Southwestern Art was
held from November 24 to December 24 and
included the work of the newly arrived Hennings
as well as Ufer, who had worked in the state
since 1914 and was enjoying increasing exposure
nationwide.2
That summer of 1917, Hennings arrived at
the door of the Museum of New Mexico’s then-
associate director, curator, and secretary, Paul A.
F. Walter, with a letter of introduction from his
new Chicago-based booster, Carter H. Harrison,
Jr. A five-time mayor, art patron, and driving
force behind a German American syndicate
of Chicago businessmen supporting the arts,
Harrison and his associates began sponsoring
the up-and-coming Hennings after the painting
 prices of their earlier beneficiaries—Ufer and
fellow Chicago artist Victor Higgins—peaked
beyond the syndicate’s comfort level. The
3
group’s support of Ufer’s painting trips to the
Southwest ended in 1916 (largely due to a
personal spat the painter had with Harrison’s
brother); nonetheless, Ufer’s career was taking
off. Three paintings of his were accepted to the
American section of San Francisco’s Panama-
Pacific International Exposition of 1915, he won
the Martin B. Cahn Prize for the best painting by
a Chicago artist in 1916, and he earned the first
Frank G. Logan Medal purchase prize for painting
from the Art Institute of Chicago in 1917. His
reputation began to expand beyond the Midwest
during the buildup to World War I, when he
claimed the Thomas B. Clarke Prize from the
National Academy of Design in New York for his
masterpiece of a Taos Pueblo pilgrimage scene,
Going East. While Santa Fe’s opening exhibition
was an important early entrée into the state’s
burgeoning art scene for Hennings, it marked just
another accomplishment in a steady stream of
successes for Ufer, who was on the cusp of his
golden years.4
There were still bigger fish in Santa Fe’s
artistic pond than Ufer, however. Robert
Henri heavily influenced many in the painterly
community there.5 Having established a
reputation back East as a renegade urban realist,
Henri exhibited a whopping fourteen paintings
in the Santa Fe museum’s inaugural show,
alongside works by colleagues George Bellows
and Leon Kroll. Henri spearheaded America’s
first modern art movement, in spirit if not wholly
in style, as the leader of the insurgent Ashcan
group of New York. Beginning in 1908, “the
Eight,” under Henri’s wing, shook their collective
fist at the academic art world and the era’s norm
of juried exhibitions by independently exhibiting
their gritty views of New York’s street corners
and back alleys. Such “vulgar” subjects—painted
directly from life, and with a heavy, loaded
brush—flew in the face of the stodgy National
Academy of Design, which controlled popular
126 A PLACE IN THE SUN
aesthetic taste of the day and determined artistic
reputations.6
After upsetting the establishment applecart
back East with underbelly scenes of New
York, Henri looked west. He developed a
professional friendship with the new museum’s
founding director, Dr. Edgar Hewett, in 1916,
offering program and policy advice. From his
rent-free studio at the historic Palace of the
Governors, Henri produced more than two
hundred southwestern portraits during his first
few summers in New Mexico, some of which
he debuted nationally at the Chicago Arts Club
in 1916.7 A contemporary art critic in Santa Fe
praised Henri as “among the very foremost of
American artists,” describing a painting from
that year as “grave and somber and yet alive
in ever[y] fiber . . . throbbing with life and the
beauty of strength.”8 While his painting of a
Pueblo drummer received mixed reviews in New
York, such local praise coupled with his “in” with
the museum’s leadership made Henri a highly
visible and successful model for aspiring artists.
Ufer’s regard for Henri and his modern-leaning
colleagues was made clear when he wrote
to Carter Harrison in 1916 of the “something
new” he had captured in his latest New Mexico
church painting, adding how he wished “Henri or
Bellows could see it.”9
A comparison between a typical Henri
portrait from 1917, Gregorita with the Santa Clara
Bowl, and a quiet scene of Native artistry by Ufer,
The Red Moccasins (1917), illustrates how alike
in spirit, subject, and vigorous paint handling the
two artists were at this juncture. Henri’s portrait
of Gregorita, one of ten of this sitter painted
that year, places a youthful Native American girl
in the center of a somewhat stark composition
of white and black tones. The minimalism of
Gregorita’s interior environment is interrupted
by her clear blue dress, red-sash accent at her
waist, and her smooth fresh face, which stares
out boldly yet blankly. Her right arm disappears
behind the bulbous black olla (water vessel)
to the left of the composition’s foreground. Its

6.01
Robert Henri, Gregorita with
the Santa Clara Bowl, 1917.
Oil on canvas; 32 × 26 in.
(81.28 × 66.04 cm). Collection of the
Ulrich Museum of Art, Wichita State
University, Wichita, Kansas, gift of
Mr. Arthur Kincade in memory of his
wife, Josephine Kincade (1977.2)
6.02
Walter Ufer, The Red
Moccasins, 1917. Oil on canvas;
30 × 30 in. (76.2 × 76.2 cm).
Collection of James R. Parks
highlights are echoed in the sitter’s rounded
plump lips and sparkling dark eyes. Henri subtly
sandwiches Gregorita’s youthful figure between
his loosely painted white background and the
bold, unblemished pot of the foreground.
Ufer used a similar compositional format in
a quiet portrait of his friend and favorite model,
Jim Mirabal, working a pair of red moccasins
by hand. Like Henri, Ufer includes a black olla in
the left-center foreground to frame his Native
sitter against a white backdrop. Ufer articulates
with thick, rich brushwork the weathered wood
doorframe and sun-bleached plaster wall.
While Mirabal is literally set “deep” within his
semi-shaded environment, he too is centered
in the composition with a notable touch of
red at his lap. The red moccasins appear to
connect an invisible axis of opposing diagonals
that crisscross the center of the composition,
focusing the viewer’s gaze on this quiet manual
activity. The highly reflective, worn condition
of the black pot is echoed by the sitter’s sun-
struck architectural framework and his crumpled
clothing. In this way, the Native still-life element
anchors and informs the sitter’s attributes as it
does in the related painting by Henri. The black
Native vessels of both compositions further
serve as self-reflective indicators of Henri and
Ufer’s search for an authentic, earthy artistry
that they likely associated with the ancient
Southwest.
During the 1920s and 1930s, Ufer
would increasingly fill his interiors and studio
compositions with examples of Native American
artifacts—pots, baskets, and blankets—and
combine them with examples of his own
paintings and Native models, as exemplified in
The Listeners. Scholars have argued that Ufer
painted such regionally specific objects into
his studio interiors and self-portraits during
the 1920s to link his own artistic output with a
deeply “authentic” and established Native arts
tradition—one that just happened to be enjoying
an explosion of commercial popularity during the
first half of the twentieth century.
GLIMPSING MODERNITY 127

This “Indian craze,” as it has been called,
brought artists, tourists, and collectors hungry for
handcrafted art forms flocking to the Southwest
in search of an antimodern renewal. Fellow Taos
10
artists Ernest Blumenschein and Bert Phillips
recognized this trend when they wrote in 1919,
“There is a great future in Indian art; of this we
artists are confident. It will be recognized and
appreciated and will prove of definite commercial
value.” Ufer recognized, and promoted, a link
11
between his own role as an American artist
painting in the West and Native American artists
when he wrote in 1928, “Gradually, and with
the Indian here, I believe we can give much to
American Art in the future.”12
Although at first glance this search for
national artistic origins rooted in the past seems
counter to the growth of modernism and a
progressive machine-age aesthetic, such nature-
128 A PLACE IN THE SUN
6.03
Walter Ufer, The Listeners,
1926. Oil on canvas; 24 × 29 in.
(60.96 × 73.66 cm). Philbrook
Museum of Art, Tulsa, Oklahoma, gift
of Lillian W. Anson (1957.5)
based arts, ceremonial artifacts, and abstracted
geometric motifs fed many modernists’
search for a distinctly American subject. In an
increasingly mechanized age, this held great
appeal. As art historian Judith A. Barter explains,
“serving the impulse of nostalgia and progress
alike, the traditional arts of Native American
culture had become a part of modernism itself.”13
The paintings of katsinas by Georgia O’Keeffe
and Alexandre Hogue aptly demonstrate this
wider modernist undercurrent. Katsinas are
traditional carved wooden figures decorated with
bright paint and feathers to represent Pueblo
spirits and spirit impersonators. Frequently they
are given to Hopi children or women and serve
as tools in one’s spiritual education. Hogue
evokes a spirituality of place through the careful
selection and placement of these objects in his
low studio view from 1927, Studio Corner—Taos,
6.04 (left)
Alexandre Hogue, Studio
Corner—Taos, 1927. Oil on
canvas mounted on panel;
29 × 27 in. (73.66 × 68.58 cm).
© 2015 Philbrook Museum of Art,
Tulsa, Oklahoma, gift of Mrs. Joan
Calder-Malouf in honor of Leroy “Skip”
Malouf (2001.10)
6.05 (right)
Georgia O’Keeffe, Kachina,
1931. Oil on wood panel;
20.625 × 16 in. (52.39 × 40.64 cm).
Collection of Jan T. and Marcia Vilcek,
promised gift to the Vilcek Foundation
(2012.02.01) © 2014 Georgia O’Keeffe
Museum / Artist Rights Society (ARS),
New York
while in Kachina (1931), O’Keeffe removes her
yellow ahote katsina tihu from its traditional
ceremonial context and links it to her own artistic
production by staging it against an abstract
backdrop of a sun-bleached bone.14 Marsden
Hartley too explored the spiritual and regional
associations such objects evoke in his awkward,
earthy, but animated still lifes of Native pots and
Spanish colonial santos. He wrote extensively
and glowingly on his beliefs of a Native “power
to observe the rhythmic order of the universe,”
and of the Pueblo Indians’ “superior spectacle
of spiritual veracity.”15 In this context, Ufer’s
Native object selections—executed in a crisp,
realistic style akin to the O’Keeffe and Hogue
paintings mentioned above—can be seen
to engage the same formalist concerns and
nationalizing discourses of his more avant-garde
contemporaries.
While the compositional and stylistic
comparisons between Ufer’s The Red Moccasins
and Henri’s Gregorita with the Santa Clara Bowl
are striking, their differences are also notable.
The choice of masculine versus feminine,
exterior versus interior, and worn versus fresh-
faced model illustrates how Ufer paralleled, yet
distinguished himself from, Henri’s modern-
leaning example. In fact, Ufer’s characteristic
application of masculine subjects peacefully
engaged in labor, craft, or rites of passage in the
hot New Mexico sun would come to characterize
his “traditional” production, while revealing his
witness to an advancing modernity.
Ufer’s award-winning painting Going East
(1917) illustrates his glimpsing an apprehensive
transition to the modern era through a traditional
Taos pilgrimage scene. It is a masterpiece of
acuity in its ability to reveal, and simultaneously
GLIMPSING MODERNITY 129
 conceal, the importance the people of Taos
Pueblo placed on privacy, as well as the
mounting social persecution they faced during
much of the twentieth century. The painting
depicts four Taos Indians walking in the heat of
the late afternoon sun. Their destination is likely
Blue Lake, a sacred site twenty miles east of the
pueblo in the Taos Mountains. The two women
wear dresses, white moccasins (Taos boots),
and Mexican-style shawls; one carries a walking
stick, a more traditionally European attribute of
a pilgrim. The second balances a large water
vessel on her head. According to Taos tradition,
the ceramic pot would likely be used along the
journey to heat water over a campfire (built with
the transported firewood seen on the burro’s
back) for a ritual of bodily purification. The
women traditionally would also grind cornmeal
in offering to the ancestral cloud people of Blue
Lake. The braided men walk along the horizon
while the face of Jim Mirabal looks out at the
viewer with concern or agitation. Interestingly, all
the pilgrims’ feet are firmly planted on the earth,
despite their implied walking action.16 Only the
leg of the burro, which blends seamlessly into
the back leg of the right-most man, is lifted in
step. Upon careful examination, the burro’s facial
and anatomical details are likewise echoed in the
fissures and projections of the Taos Mountain
background, in a further echo of natural unison.
The hand-fired vessel near the center of the
composition gives form to the sacred symbol of
the circle in Pueblo tradition, linking the woman
to the ground, elements, and sky. This evocation
of a larger holistic connection with nature is
further iterated in such minute details as the
ceramic highlights reflecting the clouds. Such a
fragile balance between man, beast, elements,
and spirit (cloud people) is echoed in the
precariously poised olla on the woman’s head,
as well as in the transient cloud formations in the
upper portion of the canvas. Such rapidly moving
formations bode of late-summer monsoon rains
or other dramatic changes potentially larger than
weather.
130 A PLACE IN THE SUN
Taos Pueblo waged a sixty-five-year battle for
the return of Blue Lake after a 1906 presidential
decree that incorporated it into federally owned
lands. An act of Congress and President
Nixon’s signature in 1971 eventually restored
these lands to the Pueblo, but not without
years of controversy, struggle, and slanderous
accusations of sexual and ritualistic impropriety
connected to this place.18 Because Blue Lake
has direct connections to kiva initiation and rites
of passage within Pueblo culture, this ritual
was shrouded in mystery and, consequently,
misconceptions from the outside for many years.
Mabel Dodge Luhan—modern art champion and
outsider-turned-partial-insider when she married
Pueblo Indian Tony Luhan in 1923—spoke of the
great value this culture placed on privacy. She
wrote of how she learned early on that the Taos
Indians “believe the power goes out of a truth as
soon as it is told, spoken or written down,” and
of how there “is possibly a necessity for certain
unknown factors in life to remain unknown
so as to maintain a true balance of power.”19
This might explain why Blue Lake historically
remained such a guarded and intriguing mystery
for so long, and why Ufer obscured the specific
circumstances of the journey depicted, despite
its stark and penetrating realism. The sense
of psychological endurance painted into the
17
travelers’ countenances, despite ongoing land
disputes, racial persecution, and a pending world
war, make this scene of passage as much about
modernity as it is about tradition.
E. Martin Hennings treated this same subject
late in his career very differently. In Going to Blue
Lake, the physical act of pilgrimage under a veil
of a spiritual secrecy is privileged, while speed
and progress are not. In the painting, passage
on foot illustrates how a slow and traditional
existence in harmony with nature is still possible
despite a rapidly advancing modernity (implied
by the inclusion of a tire-tracked dirt road that
is being tread on by two small walking figures
seen from behind).20 But the diminutive figures
and this evidence of mechanical intrusion on
6.06
Walter Ufer, Going East,
1917. Oil on canvas; 50 × 50 in.
(127 × 127 cm). © 2015 The Eugene
B. Adkins Collection, Philbrook Museum
of Art, Tulsa, Oklahoma, and the Fred
Jones Jr. Museum of Art, University of
Oklahoma, Norman (L2007.0125)

131

 the landscape are dwarfed by nature’s fantastic
foliage. Does this natural canopy obscuring the
final destination celebrate the mysteriousness
of this spiritual passage or imply a dark future?
Perhaps both readings are accurate. Although
Hennings’s Going to Blue Lake is undated, it was
likely painted on the eve of the Second World
War. A later date for this work can further be
assumed through a comparison with Hennings’s
other works from the 1930s and 1940s, which
generally evolve toward a greater diminution
of human figures in relation to his proliferating
and dramatic landscapes (notably in Among
the Aspens, 1939, and Going Home, ca. 1945).
Visual evidence of a later date for this painting
may also lie in the width of the tire tracks in
the dirt, likely left by a truck or tractor. Vehicles
from earlier decades, such as Model-T Fords
and chain-driven Simplex touring cars, the kinds
driven through the New Mexico landscape by
artists Georgia O’Keeffe and John Sloan during
the 1920s, would likely have left thinner, less
prominent tracks in the soil.
While Hennings disavowed abstract painting
as overly intellectual and therefore uninspired,
he selectively incorporated elements of turn-
of-the-century modernism into his unique and
colorful realist approach. His most frequently
21
cited adaptation of modernism was a form
of art nouveau he learned as a student at the
Royal Academy in Munich. One of his mentors
there, German symbolist Franz von Stuck, had
been an influential pioneer in the Jugendstil
movement, which was deeply rooted in
English art nouveau and plant-based design
motifs. Hennings’s admiration for his mentor
is archived in his personal scrapbook, where a
photo of Stuck’s house-museum is pasted next
to images of Hennings’s mother and father.
This prominent placement likely indicates the
strong, formative influence Stuck had on the
young artist. Hennings’s widow wrote next to
the scrapbooked photograph: “Famous artist
that Martin studied with in the Royal Academy,
Munich, 1912–1914,” relaying her husband’s
132 A PLACE IN THE SUN
deep esteem for his mentor. Symbolism’s general
emphasis on poetic elegance and exquisite
aesthetic sensitivity deeply pervades Going
to Blue Lake and much of Hennings’s Taos
production overall. This painting’s tendril-like
reach of trees and network of sage are aglow
with animism akin to a symbolist fantasy. Its
highly saturated greens, decorative surface, and
hushed tenor leave one with an overall sense of
decorative calm and quietude, despite the scene’s
visibly obscured passageway and the larger,
looming context of the Second World War. Luhan
befriended Hennings in Taos and later wrote upon
his death in 1956 of his gentle visions, which
“gave us a remembrance of the true life beneath
the apparent turmoil of our life.”22
Much like his native Chicago, which had a
generally ambivalent, even hostile, collective
reception of avant-garde art when the
controversial Armory Show opened there in 1913,
Hennings was skeptical of modernism.23 Sue
Ann Prince has written on Chicago’s reception
of modernism, which might equally describe
Hennings’s attitude toward the avant-garde in
general: “Unlike international modernism, which
was divided into distinct stylistic groups, early
Chicago modernism was defined by an attitude
rather than by a style. This attitude remained
strongly individualistic and idiosyncratic, such
that personal visions predominated over any style
or stylistic influence.”24 Hennings’s daughter
described his strong commitment to stylistic
individuality as well as his firm belief that “art
must of necessity be the artist’s own reaction to
nature and his personal style . . . governed by his
own temperament, rather than by a style molded
through the intellect.”25
Another earlier scene of passage by Hennings
might be described as a Native American allegory
of justice in the face of twentieth-century political
change. In 1925 Announcements (ca. 1924)
received the prestigious Walter Lippincott Prize
from the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts
for the best figurative work by an American artist.
By this time, Hennings had become an official
6.07
E. Martin Hennings, Going
to Blue Lake, date unknown.
Oil on canvas; 39.5 × 39.5 in.
(100.33 × 100.33 cm). © 2015 The
Eugene B. Adkins Collection, Philbrook
Museum of Art, Tulsa, Oklahoma,
and the Fred Jones Jr. Museum of
Art, University of Oklahoma, Norman
(L2007.0005)

133

 6.08
E. Martin Hennings,
Announcements, ca. 1924.
Oil on canvas; 43.19 × 45 in.
(109.7 × 114.3 cm).
Pennsylvania Academy of the
Fine Arts, Philadelphia, Joseph E.
Temple Fund (1925.10)

134
member of the Taos Society of Artists, joining
in 1924. Prior to relocating to New Mexico in
1921, Hennings had worked on commission in
Chicago as a portrait painter and muralist during
the height of the American renaissance revival
and academic mural movement. Announcements
owes much to this mural influence, with its
low horizon line, severe frontality, and high
perspective, although the typically female
allegorical figure has here been replaced by
Hennings’s Native American male.26 In the center
of the composition, a Taos Pueblo elder with
an eagle feather in his headpiece stands as a
symbol of strength and spiritual vision. He and
his companions are likely watching a ceremony
from an adobe rooftop. He is wrapped in a
striped blanket of predominantly red, white,
and blue and is surrounded by three men of
his council, all of whom look outward from a
swirling, undefined backdrop of Taos granite
mountainside. Two white birds, presumably
eagles or hawks, fly suspended in the general
area of the elder’s right shoulder. The strong
verticality of the central figure and his heavenly
reaching eagle feather contrast with the human
and architectural horizontality of the seated
advisors and adobe rooftop. Such a strong
cruciform understructure projects an air of
spirituality, as do the two birds, reminiscent of
traditional European representations of the Holy
Spirit in the form of a white dove that delivers
news of the Annunciation or of peace. In Pueblo
culture, eagles, thought to fly close to heaven,
typically carry messages or moral choices
from the Great Spirit to a tribal leader, while in
mainstream American culture, eagles came to
symbolize liberty. Announcements may be a
Native American Annunciation scene of sorts,
although the coming conveyed through this Great
Spirit’s two-winged messengers may be one of
modernity and a plea for Native independence in
the face of a new social edict. Painted during an
era of great political controversy surrounding the
Bursum Bill, which would have authorized non-
Indian seizure of Pueblo lands, the painting also
coincides with the 1924 passage of the Pueblo
Land Acts.27 While a traditional, mural-inspired
composition that found great favor within the
academic hierarchy of 1925, Announcements
might alternatively be seen as a social critique
and veiled appeal for Native civil liberties.
Political action and social consciousness in
the art of both Ufer and Hennings are arguably
more apparent in their scenes of labor. One
particularly poignant portrayal of economic
hardship is Hennings’s Depression, Slaughtering
Cattle, Ranchos de Taos (ca. 1934). This scene
illustrates a government-mandated mass
slaughter of cattle in the aftermath of the Great
Depression and at the height of the Dust Bowl.
Part of the Agricultural Adjustment Act of 1933,
this farm relief measure was intended to regulate
the cattle market by adjusting supply through
6.09
E. Martin Hennings,
Depression, Slaughtering
Cattle, Ranchos de Taos,
ca. 1934. Oil on canvas;
45 × 50 in. (114.3 × 127 cm).
Collection of Harriette Goldfield
GLIMPSING MODERNITY 135
 livestock reductions and cash payoffs to starving
farmers. Hennings abandons his typically brilliant
Taos palette and feathery handling of foliage for
stark, dismal dust tones—a commentary on the
changing environmental and economic climate,
and perhaps on the act’s ineffectiveness. Two
frail, frowning women, likely old before their time,
and described by Hennings’s widow in a 1977
letter to the painting’s owner as a mother and
daughter pair, are dressed in black shawls as if in
mourning. They address an anonymous bearded
cowboy seen from behind who looks upon
the sad scene of slaughter. In the background,
faceless men in hats are bent to their cruel task
or perhaps burdened by sorrow and hunger. In
the background, they all appear to merge into the
barren landscape and gray, dark sky like the dust
that took flight during this tragic period, ruining
family farms and livelihoods. Hennings’s bovine
and human victims of the 1930s are portrayed
with great sympathy, in a manner recalling the
social documentary photographers of Farm
Security Administration fame: Dorothea Lange,
Walker Evans, and Russell Lee, among others.
Such a portrait of America’s rural poor and the
hunger and daily struggles they faced marks
136 A PLACE IN THE SUN
an interesting diversion for Hennings from his
typically soft, romanticized scenes to a more
straightforward documentation of contemporary
social concerns.28 While Depression,
Slaughtering Cattle, Ranchos de Taos is
somewhat atypical for Hennings, it nonetheless
debunks Rodger Rak’s overstated assessment
of Hennings’s Taos as a “timeless land” that is
“always beautiful and blessed; growing, sunlight
and water abound; people are happy—free of
hurt and evil—and age does not cripple or kill, it
just adds character.”29
Hennings’s The Sheep Herder (ca. 1925),
The Goat Herder (1925–27), and Irrigation (n.d.)
all depict this “character” of age through bent
men tending the rippling, muscular land in
traditional displays of manual labor. These are
not “timeless lands,” however, as evidenced in
the workers’ worn clothes and rumpled stature. 6.10 (left)
E. Martin Hennings,
In fact, a passage of and through time unifies The Sheep Herder, ca.
all these images, whose lone overseers reign 1925. Oil on canvas; 40 × 40
over their verdant environments with a staff or in. (101.6 × 101.6 cm). Private
collection
shovel in hand. The Sheep Herder conjures a
pilgrim stopping to rest with his typical European 6.11 (right)
E. Martin Hennings,
attributes of a wide-brimmed hat, long beard, Irrigation, date unknown.
and staff. A reproduction of this work was Oil on canvas; 36 × 40 in.
(91.44 × 101.6 cm). Private
collection

6.12
Walter Ufer, Builders of the
Desert, 1923. Oil on canvas
laid down on aluminum;
50.125 × 50.125 in.
(127.32 × 127.32 cm). Terra
Foundation for American Art, Daniel
J. Terra Collection (1992.174)
preserved in Hennings’s personal scrapbook with
the title Octogenarian Sheepherder, identifying
the age and identity of the model as Jesus Maria
Tafoya. Irrigation’s Frank Samora was a favorite
model and decades-long friend of Hennings,
who also served as his family’s handyman and
gardener. Such portrayals of agricultural workers,
deeply dependent on the land, executed in a
rubbery, realist hand, anticipate the tone and
handling of the regionalists’ twisting portrayals
of midwestern farmworkers of the thirties and
forties. They also illustrate Hennings’s bridging of
tradition and modernity.
Ufer also painted agricultural workers as
common unsung heroes battling poverty and
hardship in glowing agrarian Edens, much
as the regionalists did. His scenes of labor
predated popular images of the American
scene and relate more closely in spirit and
handling to earlier works of the urban realists,
as mentioned previously. In this vein of Henri,
Ufer’s modernism was not one of abstract style
but rather a revolt against refined and academic
subjects in favor of humble subjects painted
from life. Builders of the Desert and The Garden
Makers, both from the 1920s, portray Taos
Pueblo Indians toiling in the hot high-desert sun,
literally building their community by hand. Ufer
later wrote of his conscious championing of the
rural American laborer in such scenes, “I paint
the Indian as he is. In the garden digging—in
the field working.”30 Although much has been
made of Carter Harrison’s influential advice to
Ufer—“The man who makes himself the Millet
of the Indian, who paints him just as he is, as
he works, as he lives, will strike the lasting
note”—larger cultural trends may have equally
informed Ufer’s subject matter.31 The “confused
peace” following World War I ushered in a
period of isolationism in art and politics that
encouraged an inward and backward-looking
search for an ancient American past, to which
Ufer contributed.32
Builders of the Desert conjures an American
antiquity of sorts through its portrayal of Native
GLIMPSING MODERNITY 137
 6.13
Walter Ufer, The Garden
Makers, 1923. Oil on
canvas; 29.75 × 25.25 in.
(75.56 × 64.13 cm). Phoenix Art
Museum, museum purchase with
funds provided by the Donald Ware
Waddell Foundation and Western
Art Associates (1989.82)

138
laborers trodding across an arid construction
site, as Egyptian or ancient temple builders
might.33 Despite the old-world tone, the subject
of a lower, laboring class was of growing
contemporary interest to many American artists
in general and to Ufer in particular. A critic
reviewing the Pennsylvania Academy’s annual
exhibition of 1929 described, in not necessarily
favorable terms, a tendency “in literature, in the
drama, in everyday life . . . to exalt the common
man. . . . [A]mong the modernists comparatively
few seem to have been moved to interpret . . .
our teeming industrial life. Instead, the majority
seem to turn to the rendering of potentially
beautiful things in a homely way, and of homely
degenerate representatives of the lower stratus
of society.”34 Ufer’s scenes of laborers reflect
his real-life activism and progressive fight for
the rights of common workers and artists. Late
in life, his social consciousness would lead
him to go on “strike” with workers and join the
left-wing American Artists’ Congress (AAC),
founded in 1936 to increase public aid for artists
and to protect civil rights, as an officer and
editorial contributor.35 The AAC’s first national
chairman, Max Weber, appealed to supporters
in a fiery speech to “go out among the people
who toil in the mills and shops, go to scenes of
NOTES
1. For a discussion of the TSA’s antimodern modernism,
particularly as it is related to Chicago, see Judith A.
Barter, “Bohemia by Railroad: Antimodern Modernists,”
in Window on the West: Chicago and the Art of the New
Frontier, 1890–1940, ed. Judith A. Barter (Chicago: Art
Institute of Chicago Press, in association with Hudson
Hills Press, 2003), 47–79.
2. H
 ennings arrived in New Mexico in July 1917 and
exhibited three paintings—Taos Indian, The Vine, and
Evening at Laguna—in the Museum of New Mexico
Art Gallery’s inaugural exhibition, Dedication Exhibit of
Southwestern Art (November 24–December 24, 1917).
bridge construction, foundries, excavation. There
he will find the energy and heroism of those
who create the wealth and wonder of modern
times.”36 In this way, Ufer’s scenes of labor
capture a modern day heroism—not of everyday
man, but of the traditional Pueblo peoples of
the Southwest and their seemingly strained
transition into modernity.
Ufer and Hennings bore witness to
modernity’s changing tides through specific
images of labor and passage. Both engaged in
progressive social movements, arts advocacy,
and contemporary dialogues in their art, despite
their realistic approaches and commitment to
the academic establishment that bolstered their
careers. Mabel Dodge Luhan, who lured some of
the most progressive modern artists, writers, and
thinkers to the Southwest, befriended Hennings
and eulogized him after his death in 1956. Equally
telling is that Stuart Davis, arguably the most
celebrated and urban-inspired modernists of the
early and mid-twentieth century, honored Ufer’s
contributions as a progressive figure in American
art in a published eulogy for the New York Times.
In August 1936, Davis lamented in print how
Ufer’s death came as a “shock to all who are
working for the advancement of art in America as
a vital and forthright expression of our times.”
3. Dean A. Porter, Teresa Hayes Ebie, and Suzan Campbell,
Taos Artists and Their Patrons, 1898–1950 (Notre Dame,
Ind.: Snite Museum of Art, 1999), 98.
4. D
 ean A. Porter, Walter Ufer: Rise, Fall, Resurrection
(Oklahoma City: National Cowboy and Western Heritage
Museum, 2010), 39–66. Porter identifies Ufer’s golden
years as 1917–1922.
5. Valerie Ann Leeds, Robert Henri in Santa Fe: His Work
and Influence (Santa Fe: Gerald Peters Gallery, 1998),
8. Leeds notes that Robert Henri’s relationship and
influence on Santa Fe and the Taos Art Colony artists is
a topic that merits further examination. I would extend
GLIMPSING MODERNITY 139
 this point to Ufer, whose works can be seen to emulate
Henri’s style and spirit, but with masculine subjects set
outdoors, versus Henri’s largely feminine or youthful
native subjects. A general stylistic comparison has also
been cited by Leeds, Stephen Good, Laura Bickerstaff,
and Dean A. Porter. Henri later toured his southwestern
paintings with the TSA national circuit exhibitions
as an associate member for four consecutive years,
1919–1922, and in their tenth annual exhibition in 1924.
Gregorita with the Santa Clara Bowl traveled with the
TSA in a 1920 circuit show and returned to New York
in February 1921 for a small TSA show at the Mohr Art
Galleries in New York. Porter, Ebie, and Campbell, Taos
Artists and Their Patrons, 44.
6. The heyday of the American juried exhibition system
coincided with the formation of the Taos Society of Artists
in 1915. At this time, six academic artist painters in the
region of northern New Mexico, E. I. Couse, Joseph Henry
Sharp, Ernest Blumenschein, Oscar Berninghaus, Bert
Geer Phillips, and William Herbert “Buck” Dunton, joined
forces to exhibit and market their southwestern paintings
in nationally touring shows. The group would expand to
include E. Martin Hennings and fourteen other active,
associate, or honorary members, but would eventually
dissolve in 1927 due to lack of adequate sales and internal
squabbling among its active membership. Porter, Ebie,
and Campbell, Taos Artists and Their Patrons, 95.
7. Leeds, Robert Henri, 11, 15. Chicago artist turned Santa
Fe Art Colony painter Albert Krehbiel wrote, “Dr. Hewett
from the beginning has been gracious and allotted me
on[e] of the four studios maintained for visiting artists.
Robert Henri, by the way, has been my neighbor”; Albert
Krehbiel to Mr. Harshe, September 6, 1922, Albert
Krehbiel Estate Papers, Krehbiel Corporation, Chicago,
quoted in Catherine Whitney, Albert Krehbiel: Santa
Fe Works (Santa Fe, N.Mex.: Gerald Peters Gallery, in
association with the Krehbiel Corporation, 1996), 3.
8. Week’s Review of Society: What Artists Are Doing, Robert
Henri’s Record Book, private collection of Janet LeClair, 5,
quoted in Leeds, Robert Henri, 13.The painting described
was Robert Henri’s Dieguito Roybal-Po-Tse-Nu-Tsa (1916),
currently in the collection of the New Mexico Museum of
Art, Santa Fe.
9. L aura M. Bickerstaff, ed., Pioneer Artists of Taos (Denver,
Colo.: Old West Publishing, 1955), 146; see also Stephen L.
Good, “Seven Paintings by Walter Ufer,” Artists of the
Rockies and the Golden West (Winter 1984): 97; see
also Porter, Ebie, and Campbell, Taos Artists and Their
Patrons, 96.
10. Elizabeth Hutchinson, The Indian Craze: Primitivism,
Modernism, and Transculturation in American Art,
1890–1915 (Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 2009).
See also John Ott, “Reform in Redface: The Taos Society
of Artists Plays Indian,” American Art 23, no. 2 (Summer
2009): 81–107; and Sue Leah Dilworth, Inventing
the Southwest: Persistent Visions of a Primitive Past
(Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1996).
140 A PLACE IN THE SUN
11. E
 rnest L. Blumenschein and Bert Phillips, “Ernest
Blumenschein and Bert Phillips of the Taos Society of
Artists,” Albuquerque (NM) Evening Herald, reprinted in El
Palacio 6, no. 12 (May 24, 1919): 178.
12. W
 alter Ufer, foreword to Exhibition of Recent Paintings
by Walter Ufer, N.A., exhibition catalogue (New York:
Macbeth Gallery, 1928), available at www.libmma.org/
digital_files/macbeth/b16374885.pdf; see also Ott,
“Reform in Redface,” 86.
13. Barter, “Bohemia by Railroad,” 75.
14. Lea Rosson Delong, Nature’s Forms/Nature’s Forces:
The Art of Alexandre Hogue (Norman: University of
Oklahoma Press, in association with Philbrook Museum
of Art, 1984). Delong notes that Hogue referred to Native
American artists as “aesthetic giants” and that Ernest
Blumenschein, who saw the work exhibited at the National
Academy of Design in New York in 1928, wrote to Hogue
that it was “snappy” and was “quite a representation of
New Mexico.” See also Susie Kalil, Alexandre Hogue: An
American Visionary, Paintings and Works on Paper (College
Station: Texas A&M University Press, 2011), 38–40. See
also W. Jackson Rushing III, “Pictures of Katsina Tithu:
Georgia O’Keeffe and Southwest Modernism,” in Georgia
O’Keeffe in New Mexico: Architecture, Katsinam, and
the Land, ed. Barbara Buhler Lynes and Carolyn Kastner
(Santa Fe: Georgia O’Keeffe Museum in association
with Museum of New Mexico Press, 2012), 35. Rushing
identifies the katsina model for this O’Keeffe painting and
also references a smaller, related oil of the same subject
and date, Paul’s Kachina.
15. M
 arsden Hartley, “The Scientific Esthetic of the Redman:
The Great Corn Ceremony at Santo Domingo,” Art and
Archaeology 13, no. 3 (March 1922): 117. Despite his
admiration for what he considered “authentic” spiritual
expression in Native American art, Hartley adopted
the era’s bigoted language, which insolently cast and
characterized Native Americans as “Redmen.”
16. An interesting question that exceeds the parameters of
this discussion is whether Ufer may have intentionally
emphasized the flat footedness of the four pilgrims’
footsteps in subtle reference to a Taos Pueblo dance
that is a musically accentuated walking movement
emphasizing a downbeat and the four cardinal directions.
17. T
 ed Egri and Kit Egri, “Walter Ufer: Passion and Talent,”
American Art 42 (January 1978): 64, as quoted in Broder,
Taos, 225. The authors speak of Ufer’s strength in treating
“things as a whole,” as when his horse becomes “part of
the mesa and takes on the colors of the mesa.” See also
Good, “Seven Paintings,” 50, who writes, “when most
successful, he [Ufer] create[s] a visual unity of earth and
sky and human, vegetal and geological forms.”
18. J ohn J. Bodine, “The Taos Blue Lake Ceremony,”
American Indian Quarterly 12, no. 2 (Spring 1988): 92–93.
I would like to thank Jim Moore for bringing this article
to my attention in his essay “That Man Out There in the
Mountains: Ufer, Hennings, and the Conflicted Allure of
Taos” (chapter 7, this volume).
 19. M
 abel Dodge Luhan, Intimate Memories, vol. 4, as
quoted and cited in Peter Nabokov, “Running, Power, and
Secrecy at Taos: What You Don’t Know Can’t Hurt Them,”
American West 19, no. 5, (September–October 1982):
27. See also Bodine, “Taos Blue Lake Ceremony,” who
speaks of secrecy being the watchword at Taos Pueblo
and of their reputation for being the most secretive and
conservative Pueblo in New Mexico.
20. This analysis was inspired by Laura Gilpin scholar Martha
A. Sandweiss, An Enduring Grace (Fort Worth, Tex.: Amon
Carter Museum, 1986), who notes Gilpin’s photographic
style and documentation of a coming modernity to the
Navajo Nation.
21. O
 n several occasions, Hennings spoke of his rejection of
abstraction, distortion, or modern styles “molded through
the intellect” in favor of realism inspired by nature and
augmented by a creative sense of design: “My work is
representational and realistic. I love a sense of design
and feeling of the decorative, good drawing, and able
craftsmanship. . . . Modernism has taken the ascendency
in the art world with abstraction dominant, but I cannot
overthrow the tradition of the past and will always
continue”; E. Martin Hennings to Mrs. Barnes, March 10,
1954, and I. K., “E. Martin Hennings,” Christian Science
Monitor, April 23, 1928, both in E. Martin Hennings
Papers, reel 3249, Archives of American Art, Smithsonian
Institution, Washington, D.C. See also Ina Sizer Cassidy,
“Art and Artists of New Mexico,” New Mexico Magazine
11, no. 2 (February 1933): 27
22. M
 abel Dodge Luhan quoted in “E. Martin Hennings Dies,”
obituary, Taos Valley News, May 19, 1956.
23. Neil Harris, “The Chicago Setting,” in The Old Guard and
the Avant-Garde: Modernism in Chicago, 1910–1940,
ed. Sue Ann Prince (Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 1990), 16–17, speaks of the local Chicago press
that ridiculed the Armory Show more than other critics,
thereby revealing their somewhat provincial and narrow-
minded view of avant-gardism. “Chicago was stunned
by the Armory Show during its 24 day run, more than
188,000 people attended amid ‘moral indignation.’”
24. Sue Ann Prince, introduction to Old Guard, xxiii. See also
Barter, “Bohemia by Railroad,” 60, which describes the
conservative reception of the Armory Show of 1913 in
Chicago, resulting in protests, such as when students and
faculty of the Art Institute of Chicago burned effigies of
Henri Matisse’s work.
25. “
 E. Martin Hennings,” Taos Valley News, September 12,
1968, 16, in an unsigned recollection of the artist’s
daughter, clippings file, Vertical File of New Mexican
Artists, New Mexico Museum of Art Library and Archives.
See also artist quoted in I. K., “E. Martin Hennings,” n.p.
26. R
 odger Rak, “An Individual Reality,” Color, Pattern and
Plane: E. Martin Hennings in Taos, exhibition catalogue
(Orange, Tex.: Stark Museum of Art, 1986), 16, discusses
mural painting and the new American aesthetic in relation
to Hennings’s career.
27. M
 ark A. White, “Time and Modernity in the Art of the
American Southwest,” The Eugene B. Adkins Collection
(Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 2011), 41. See
also Lynn Cline, Literary Pilgrims: The Santa Fe and Taos
Writers’ Colonies, 1917–1950 (Albuquerque: University
of New Mexico Press, 2007), 85–86, who speaks about
Luhan and social reformer John Collier’s activism to
defeat the Bursum Bill in 1923. Its defeat was also a result
of the activism of many Taos and Santa Fe artists and
writers, including members of the TSA, who were actively
involved in the American Indian Defense Organization and
other causes supporting Native rights. See also Barter,
“Bohemia by Railroad,” 75, who further states that many
modern artists working in New Mexico also supported the
Indian Arts Fund, an organization that promoted artistic
education of Native Americans using their own visual
traditions.
28. Hennings’s evolution as a painter in this example parallels
larger shifts in the field of photography, which also
evolved from the soft-focused pictorialism exemplified in
the work of Edward Curtis and Gertrude Käsebier to social
documentary photographs like those of Laura Gilpin, who
portrayed Navajo subjects in their natural environments
in a direct, straight style after the mid-1930s. Though
well beyond the scope of this essay, Hennings’s late,
silver-toned portraits of Navajo weavers and silversmiths,
which illustrated calendars of the Santa Fe Railway
during the 1950s, also bear interesting comparisons with
Gilpin’s later Navajo portraits of weavers, silversmiths, and
artisans.
29. Rodger Rak, “An Individual Reality,” 21.
30. Ufer, foreword to Exhibition of Recent Paintings, quoted
in Porter, Ebie, and Campbell, Taos Artists and Their
Patrons, 93.
31. Carter Harrison, Jr., to Ufer, October 27, 1914, Walter
Ufer Papers, University of Notre Dame Archives, Indiana,
quoted in Porter, Ebie, and Campbell, Taos Artists and
Their Patrons, 91. See also Barter, “Bohemia by Railroad,”
63, and Porter, Walter Ufer, 29, who dates the letter from
the Ufer Papers as October 20, 1917.
32. Kermit S. Champa, “Some Observations on American
Art, 1914–1919, ‘The Wise or Foolish Virgin,’” in Over
Here: Modernism, The First Exile, 1914–1919 (Providence,
R.I.: David Winton Bell Gallery, Brown University, 1989),
11–23.
33. Barter, “Bohemia by Railroad,” 69.
34. “The Pennsylvania Academy’s One Hundredth and
Twenty-Fourth Annual Exhibition,” American Magazine of
Art 20, no. 3 (March 1929): 141.
35. Broder, Taos, 219; Porter, Walter Ufer, 91.
36. Alfred Werner, Max Weber (New York: Abrams, 1975),
65; Lloyd Goodrich, Max Weber: Retrospective Exhibition
(New York: Whitney Museum of American Art, 1949), 46;
quoted in Catherine Whitney, “Max Weber and the Modern
Figure,” in Models and Muses: Max Weber and the Figure
(Tulsa, Okla.: Philbrook Museum of Art, 2012), 21.
GLIMPSING MODERNITY 141
 7 THAT MAN OUT THERE IN THE MOUNTAINS
Ufer, Hennings, and the Conflicted Allure of Taos
James C. Moore

Your letter from ‘Chaos’ trailed after me up here. . . . As for your

Chaos, N.M., well you know how I feel. The fishermen here say that
when the time comes for them to go out to sea for three months
they vomit up their breakfast from fear and loathing—well I feel like
that about Taos and I shall never see it again.
—MARSDEN HARTLEY, NOVA SCOTIA,
OCTOBER 18, 1935, TO REBECCA STRAND, TAOS

Here, some day, will be written the great American epic, the great
American opera. . . . The very cliffs cry out to be painted. The world
in all of its history has never seen such models as these survivors of
the cliff dwellers. These mountains are the American Parnassus.
—WALTER UFER, 1916

(Detail)
Walter Ufer, In the Land of
Mañana, 1916.
(See figure 7.27, page 162)
As a comfortable and inviting place to paint
or write, Taos was not for everyone. Perhaps
Marsden Hartley’s dislike of the town
exemplified the extreme point of view. Hartley
went to Taos in 1918 with visions of painting the
dramatic mountain landscape and encountering
Native culture, which had been an interest of his
in the early 1910s. He was only there a scant four
months, during which time he made few friends,
characterized the members of the Taos Society
of Artists as “awful hackers,” and developed
a case of dysentery. He apparently made no
1
attempt to make connections with anyone at
Taos Pueblo. Perhaps he still longed for the
cosmopolitan life and friendships he had enjoyed
in Berlin in the mid-1910s, but now the war made
all that a distant and painful memory.2
In August 1918, World War I reached its peak
as the Allied Hundred Days Offensive began; by
the time Hartley left Taos and settled in Santa
Fe in November, armistice agreements were
being signed. But the Spanish flu pandemic was
still rampant in both New York and Germany, so
Hartley must have felt hemmed in, not able to
return to the East or to Europe. He found Santa
Fe more to his liking and made friends there.
Edgar Hewett, the director of the Museum
of New Mexico and its Art Gallery, facilitated
access to Pueblo materials and ceremonies, and
El Palacio provided an outlet for Hartley’s writings
on aesthetics. But although he wrote “I am an
American discovering America,” this discovery
was not one he relished in Taos. Taos would
always remain a bad memory for him.3

143

 The whole world may have seemed like paintings hung on the wall. On a small table sat
chaos, and perhaps, to Hartley, Taos was just a bouquet of flowers, a photo of Ufer, and an urn
a personal expression of that. With his positive that contained his ashes. Ernest Blumenschein
feelings about Germany, he could have made presided over the service, introducing several
a greater effort to interact with people in people who spoke of their experiences with
Taos who were of German extraction, such Ufer. John Dunn, who ran the stage line from
as Gerson Gusdorf, who owned the general Tres Piedras and who first brought Ufer to Taos,
store on the plaza, or Maurice Sterne, who was recalled Ufer’s comment that the place was
openly pro-German, or artists such as Ernest L. “God’s country—I expect to live and die here.”
Blumenschein, Oscar Berninghaus, Walter Ufer, He reminded people that Ufer and his wife,
and E. Martin Hennings, who were of German Mary, had helped him tend to the sick during
descent. But with the strong anti-German the flu epidemic of 1918. Taos painter Eleanora
sentiment in the United States at the time, doing Kissel read from Shakespeare and told of Ufer’s
this might have seemed to him to be too risky. 4
love of life and of Taos. Kenneth Adams lauded
Maybe it was his homosexuality, maybe it was Ufer’s constant support of younger artists.
aesthetics, but he didn’t connect with others Josef Svoboda, who had been a student of
who might have shown him that Taos did have Ufer’s in Chicago and in Taos, stood and saluted
amenities to offer an artist. In less than a year the photograph and told the group of Ufer’s
7.01
after he wrote to Rebecca Strand of his hatred of mimicry in storytelling. Dorothea Fricke, of the Walter Ufer, Builders
Taos, one of those who dearly loved the place, University of New Mexico, read a number of of the Desert, 1923. Oil
and who would no doubt have shared many students’ statements regarding Ufer’s positive on canvas laid down on
aluminum; 50.125 × 50.125 in.
social and political views with Hartley—Walter influence on them as their teacher.8 University of (127.32 × 127.32 cm).
Ufer—had died. 5
California scientist Jack Bradley gave a moving Terra Foundation for American Art,
Daniel J. Terra Collection (1992.174)
The year 1936 was a turning point and a time
of reflection for the artists who had once shared
membership in the Taos Society of Artists, for in
the space of barely five months, they lost three
of their close friends. W. Herbert “Buck” Dunton
died on March 18, Eanger Irving Couse on April
26, and Walter Ufer, who had just turned sixty
on July 22, was stricken by appendicitis on the
27th and operated on in St. Vincent’s Hospital in
Santa Fe on the 28th. After fighting for his life for
five days, he died on August 2. The doctors said
he “held his own,” and one gets the sense that
he did not go quietly, for he was known for his
boisterous personality as well as his considerable
achievement in art. Those who knew him
well always noted his “kind, human qualities.”
Certainly he was not ready to let go of his many
friends and the life he loved in Taos.6
On Monday, August 10, a simple but
significant memorial service was held.7 Ufer’s
studio on Des Georges Lane, east of the plaza,
filled with friends in the late afternoon. Ufer’s

144 A PLACE IN THE SUN


7.02
Bert Phillips, The Accident
That Started the Taos
Art Colony, Ernest
Blumenschein and Bert
Phillips, 1898. Photograph.
Palace of the Governors Photo
Archives (NMHM/DCA; 040277)
account of an exhibition he had seen that had
influenced him greatly and had opened for
him “new vistas, new spiritual outlooks, new
land.” He remembered Ufer as “gentle, fine
and affectionate.” Perhaps the closest of the
artists to Ufer, although ten years his junior, was
E. Martin Hennings. He told the group how he
looked up to the older man as a master, that
they had lived in the same apartment building
in Chicago and had studied in Munich at the
same time. Hennings had followed Ufer to Taos,
continuing a long friendship.
As evening approached, the group walked
in procession over to Kit Carson Street, up
Morada Lane, past the house of Mabel Dodge
Luhan, to a Penitente morada that had been
built on land granted to the confraternity by
Taos Pueblo.9 Their route traversed a spot on
which, thirteen years earlier, Ufer had painted
one of his largest canvases, Builders of the
Desert, depicting a group of men from the
pueblo making adobes for the construction of
Mabel’s house. At sunset, in a place that carried
historical significance for Indian, Hispanic, and
Anglo-European cultures alike, they stood on
the bank of the Las Cruces arroyo.10 There, his
ashes “were consigned to earth and air” by two
of his closest friends, “‘Ufer Jim’ Mirabal and
Bob Abbott, who seemed to be again ‘posing
for an Ufer.’”11 Although the Taos Society of
Artists disbanded in 1927, many friendships
remained, and many of the artists continued
to live there. But Ufer’s funeral seems to have
closed the book on the early days. Over the
short span of thirty-eight years, this small group
of artists had lived and worked, argued among
themselves, and produced numerous successful
traveling exhibitions, from an undeveloped and
rural place that, to them, was the ideal artist’s
environment.12
From the beginning, artists romanticized this
remote cluster of villages and their residents.
The accounts by Blumenschein and Phillips of
their 1898 trip to Taos have coalesced into a kind
of “origin myth,” and this story has always set
the stage for an account of romantic adventure
in which the misfortune of their broken wagon
wheel led to their fortuitous “discovery” of
Taos.13 In these accounts, they rightly portray
themselves as two greenhorns out to “rough
it” by wagon all the way from Denver to Mexico
in search of subjects to paint.14 A wagon trip to
Mexico, or to Taos for that matter, would have
been a heady ambition and a difficult journey for
two men with no experience, when they easily
could have considerably shortened the trip by
using the train to take them beyond Denver. In
the previous year Blumenschein had traveled
by train to the Southwest on assignment for
Scribner’s Monthly; both the Atchison, Topeka
and Santa Fe and the Denver and Rio Grande
railroads were potential means of gaining easy
access to Taos.
Clearly, the two travelers planned an idealized,
anachronistic, and somewhat unrealistic journey.
Perhaps, given Blumenschein’s freelance work
with magazine companies, such a trip would have
seemed to provide a more exciting story. But Taos
provided practical reasons for the development
of an art colony in the Southwest. Here they
had reasonable access to rail transportation. The
THAT MAN OUT THERE IN THE MOUNTAINS 145

town, while appearing primitive in some ways,
provided all necessary amenities. They lived in
relative comfort in a place where living expenses
were cheap because of the general poverty of
the region. Taos’s artistic advantages were its
setting in a dramatic, ever-changing landscape and
its proximity to an Indian pueblo in which some
residents were open to outsiders. 15
Many people who traveled to New Mexico
Territory in the first decade of the twentieth
century carried the perception of Taos as a
primitive place, a holdover of the Wild West,
and a place where people could still see
Indians in an “unspoiled” condition. This was
probably how Chicago mayor Carter Harrison,
Jr., imagined the Southwest before traveling
there. Harrison, whose wife and son lived
in Pasadena from 1906 to 1909 due to their
son’s frail health, visited the Southwest on
146 A PLACE IN THE SUN
7.03
Denver and Rio Grande
Railroad System, 1883. Map.
Rand McNally and Company, 1890.
Murray Hudson Halls, Tennessee
a number of occasions as he went back and
forth to California. Among other places, he took
photographs at Taos Pueblo. Harrison was an
enthusiastic booster of the opportunities for a
painter in the area, encouraging and subsidizing
both Ufer and Hennings in their first trips to
Taos. Harrison’s photographs included many
portraits, some identified.16 They are not posed
fictional stereotypes, however, but attempts to
document everyday activities and contemporary
circumstances.17 His photograph of the church
at Cochiti Pueblo even takes a slightly sardonic
tone in its title. Whether this view of a mission
church in ruin was intended as a document of a
“vanishing race,” an indication of the diminishing
influence of the Roman Catholic priesthood in
the Pueblos, a realist or a romantic view, it is
certainly an image that directs a critical eye on
contemporary conditions.

7.04 (top)
Carter H. Harrison, Women
Washing Clothes, Taos Pueblo,
New Mexico, 1905–1919.
Photograph. Palace of the Governors
Photo Archives (NMHM/DCA; 146647)
7.05 (bottom)
Carter H. Harrison, “The
church at Cochiti before the
Padre sold the timbers, bells,
etc. to the Santa Fe Railroad,”
1910–1920[?]. Photograph. Palace
of the Governors Photo Archives
(NMHM/DCA; 002304)
This is a viewpoint that Ufer, and to some
extent Hennings, would come to share.
Probably everyone ventured to Taos with some
mistaken and stereotyped preconceptions, but
some artists sought to get beyond the easily
marketable images. Nevertheless, the attempt
to present more routine views of everyday
life also had to carry the artists’ interests, and
they hoped to find a sympathetic audience and
patrons who would buy such works. Ufer and
Hennings, despite their German heritage and
their schooling in Germany, saw themselves as
Americans, and saw the Native people of Taos,
whether they truly understood them in depth,
as partaking of this Americanness. In this milieu
their intention was to create and capitalize on a
revitalized American art that would have national
authority, not just an art of merely regional
interest. And that art required the presence of
the modern Indian. Ufer wrote, “Gradually, and
with the Indian here, I believe we can give much
to American Art in the future.”18
It was not easy for the artists to make close
connections with people at the pueblo.19 Ufer
moved to Taos in 1914, yet it was four years
before he could gain people’s confidence,
claiming that this was “due to the resentment
they felt toward the white men who had
exploited their romantic appearance and
sensationalized their ceremonials.”20 In a 1928
interview for El Palacio, Ufer explained, “The
Indian is not a fantastic figure. He resents being
regarded as a curiosity—as a dingleberry on a
tree. He is intelligent and a good business man.
He reads the good magazines and newspapers,
and he is quick to challenge any false statement
about himself or his life.”21
Clearly, Ufer’s conversations with people at
the pueblo touched his social consciousness,
for Ufer held strong socialist political views. He
knew that Indians were not the stereotypes so
often envisioned by outsiders, nor were they
“vanishing.” The concept that Indians were
inferior and thus destined to become a vanishing
race was an idea that first developed after the
THAT MAN OUT THERE IN THE MOUNTAINS 147
 War of 1812, during the Madison administration.
This strongly influenced nineteenth-century
American political policy, and the notion had
been securely embedded in popular culture
through literature and art for fully a century
before Ufer settled in Taos. As the Taos artists
came to develop friendships at the Pueblo and
to understand the strength of their culture,
they realized that not only was this view bad
policy and immoral, it was also mistaken. More
fervently than his colleagues, Ufer set out to
communicate this in his paintings.
One of Ufer’s most intriguing canvases
is titled Fantasies. Ufer depicts himself in the
studio in military garb, brush in hand, while an
older woman seated at the left, modeled by
his wife, Mary, looks down at something in her
lap. Standing on a Navajo rug and surrounded
by Pueblo pots and drums, he gazes intently at
the canvas on the easel, a landscape. In front of
him, and staring at him, is a ghostly image of a
Taos Pueblo man. If indeed it took him four years
to gain a comfort level with the Taos people,
this may be one of his first attempts at a major
statement of the complexities of working in Taos.
7.06
It is unsettling, enigmatic, leaving the viewer to Walter Ufer, Fantasies,
resolve what is fantasy. Certainly, however, the were perhaps too intellectual and difficult to 1922. Oil on canvas; 42 × 38 in.
(106.68 × 96.52 cm). Stark
cliché of the “vanishing Indian” was something market, and thus are rare. Museum of Art, Orange, Texas
that the Taos artists knew to be a fantasy. A Similar messages, however, are embedded in (31.5.9)

photograph in Bert Phillips’s scrapbook treats
this theme in a humorous way. Joseph Sharp,
seated outdoors before a canvas on an easel,
looks at a model standing before him, costumed
and wearing a large headdress, the typical
stereotype of the wild Indian, who had come
to represent all Indians. Standing behind Sharp,
and also looking at the model, are Bert Phillips,
E. I. Couse, and Ernest Blumenschein. Either
intentionally printed or by a flaw in the printing
process, the left side of the photo, including
both the model and the painting on the easel,
is light-struck and faded. Thus, the “fade away
race” is given visual manifestation in the photo.22
Although works like Fantasies and the “fade
away” photo carry narrative messages, they
more straightforwardly realist paintings. Though
not the most marketable, they do project an
awareness of social and political issues of the
time. Among these are paintings by both Ufer
and Hennings that address agricultural activities,
ceremonial practices, and the preservation of
traditional values. During the 1910s and into
the 1920s, those values at the pueblo were
challenged by outside forces in a number of
ways.
By the late nineteenth and early twentieth
centuries, it was commonplace to characterize
the Pueblos, in contrast to the Apaches
and Navajos, as nonhostile, well-governed
people who maintained peaceful agricultural
communities.23 The distinction had much to do

148 A PLACE IN THE SUN

7.07
Photographer unknown,
A picture of the fade away
race by four prominent
artists, ca. 1915–16.
Photograph. Bert Phillips
Scrapbook. Collection of Martin
Phillips
with permanent settlement in one place and
land ownership. In the 1910s Taos Pueblo faced
a major challenge in regard to a land claim. They
initiated litigation to retain title to land north of the
village and to the watershed of the Rio Lucero,
commonly known as the Tenorio tract, land they
had purchased in 1818. In 1902 the U.S. Court of
Private Land Claims patented two Spanish grants
to this land.24 Soon after this, land speculator
Arthur Manby moved to buy it from the heirs. In
1916 his claim to the land was awarded in court.
Taos Pueblo appealed, and the case was heard
in the New Mexico Supreme Court. Members
of the pueblo, as well as others, gave testimony
arguing for the long-term unchallenged use of
the land for grazing and cultivation. The pueblo
eventually prevailed as a result of the supreme
court case.25
Members of the Taos Society of Artists
certainly knew of this case and were familiar
with this land and the Rio Lucero watershed.
A photo of a camping trip to the Rio Lucero in
Bert Phillips’s scrapbook shows Blumenschein,
Phillips, his son Ralph, Oscar Berninghaus, and
his son Charles (see figure 7.08). Geronimo
Gomez (Star Road), who led the party, stands
next to a cook stove. Such outings were informal
camping and fishing trips, but it is unlikely
that Gomez, an activist himself in the pueblo,
would have missed the chance to talk about the
importance of this land and the pueblo’s claim
to it.26 Bert Phillips had even been allowed to
build a house on this land, a project he never
finished.27
The artists’ response to these land issues
coalesced in the early twenties around
opposition to the Bursum Bill, which sought to
remove title from many Indian lands.28 Their
THAT MAN OUT THERE IN THE MOUNTAINS 149

resistance to this bill was manifest at times in
paintings related to agriculture, even though these
were somewhat less marketable than the more
romanticized images.29 Sharp and Berninghaus
painted several harvest-related canvases.
Berninghaus’s monumental portrait study of
Joe Gomez, titled Indian Farmer of Taos, was
a major exhibition painting, one that referenced
Jean-François Millet’s well-known Man with the
Hoe (1860–1862) but was in striking contrast to
150 A PLACE IN THE SUN
7.08
Photographer unknown,
Camp on the Rio Lucero, ca.
1915–17. Photograph. Left to
right: Ernest Blumenschein,
Charles Berninghaus, Bert
Phillips, Ralph Phillips, Oscar
Berninghaus, Geronimo Gomez
(Star Road). Bert Phillips Scrapbook.
Collection of Martin Phillips
Millet’s brutish, downtrodden peasant. Joe, in
a combination of modern and traditional dress, 7.09 (left)
is seen as a confident, strong man, unburdened Oscar Berninghaus, Indian
Farmer of Taos, 1926.
by the labor of the field, the hoe resting lightly
Oil on canvas; 35 × 40 in.
on his shoulder.30 Both Ufer and Hennings, who (88.9 × 101.6 cm). Private
collection
as painters had trained in the German realist
mode, were interested in aspects of modern life 7.10 (right)
in the pueblo and took up the agricultural theme. Jean-François Millet, Man
with the Hoe, 1860–62.
Ufer’s The Cornpicker and The Garden Makers
Oil on canvas; 31.5 × 39 in.
are typical examples, both of which counter the (80.01 × 99.06 cm). J. Paul Getty
Museum, Los Angeles (85.PA.114)
7.11 (left)
Walter Ufer, The Cornpicker,
ca. 1915. Oil on canvas;
30 × 25 in. (76.2 × 63.5 cm).
Eiteljorg Museum of American
Indians and Western Art,
Indianapolis
7.12 (right)
Walter Ufer, The Garden
Makers, 1923. Oil on
canvas; 29.75 × 25.25 in.
(75.56 × 64.13 cm). Phoenix Art
Museum, museum purchase with
funds provided by the Donald Ware
Waddell Foundation and Western Art
Associates (1989.82)
stereotype of the “savage” Indian and reinforce
the peaceful, hard-working nature of Pueblo
people. In 1928 Ufer explained his intent to
change the image of the Indian, his conviction
that a new American art would come from the
Southwest, and his contentment with Taos: “I
paint the Indian as he is. In the garden digging—
in the field working—riding among the sage—
meeting his woman in the desert—angling for
trout—in meditation. . . . I believe that if America
gets a National art, it will come more from the
Southwest. . . . We live a happy life here, with
Indians daily at our table.”31
Some images were important enough to Ufer
that he created variations on one theme. Indian
Corn—Taos, painted in 1917, was revised and
repeated a decade later for a solo exhibition at
Macbeth Galleries in New York. Ufer was clear,
in subtle ways, to note Indian possession of the
land. The title of the 1922 painting In His Garden
emphasizes the man’s ownership. The man looks
up at the viewer with a direct gaze, an eyebrow
lifted as if slightly annoyed. A reviewer in 1922,
typical for the time, marveled at the handling
of the paint, but could not help but mention the
emphasis on the man’s expression:
In His Garden is an Indian working among
growing green field stuff, in the sun. Ufer
has painted the white outer-garment,
common to all Taos Indian men, with a
skill that is convincing; one feels he was
so certain of what he saw, that he painted
it with a rapidity that it would have been a
pleasure to see. In this he has distracted
the Indian’s attention for just a second and
then proceeded to make that the motive
for the facial expression, and it is great.32
It seems clear that Ufer wanted to make a
statement with this painting, but even though the
reviewer notes the man’s gaze, the underlying
message was probably not fully understood.33
THAT MAN OUT THERE IN THE MOUNTAINS 151
 7.13
Walter Ufer, Indian Corn—
Taos, 1917. Oil on canvas;
40 × 50 in. (101.6 × 127 cm).
Private collection

7.14
Walter Ufer, In His
Garden, 1922. Oil on canvas;
30.5 × 30.5 in. (77.47 × 77.47 cm).
Colby College Museum of Art, The
Lunder Collection (285.2008)

152
 Hennings was less inclined to show the
Indian as a worker in the fields, but he did
produce one major exhibition painting that could
have referenced both the land claims and the
rights to the water from the Rio Lucero. In the
pueblo, people worked individual plots of land in
the field that were clearly designated as theirs,
and this legal ownership was well understood
in the pueblo; indeed, this was clear in the
testimony in the Tenorio tract dispute. Irrigation
appears to be intentionally antiheroic and was
probably unsettling to most potential buyers
at the time.34 It is also an example of a slightly
angry, confrontational statement. The elderly man
stares directly at the viewer; his rubber boots,
his gaze, and his stance seem to say that he is
modern, he is here, and he is working his land.35
The other issue of great concern to the
pueblo and to the artists, which hit at the
same time as the land controversies, were
government attempts to suppress ceremonial
practices. The notoriety of the Secret Dance
File in Washington, D.C., and Commissioner
Charles Burke’s distribution of Circular 1665
7.15
E. Martin Hennings,
Irrigation, date unknown.
Oil on canvas; 36 × 40 in.
(91.44 × 101.6 cm). Private
collection
to Bureau of Indian Affairs agents were direct
blows aimed at destroying traditional practices in
the pueblos.36 The Secret Dance File contained
misinformation about lascivious sexual practices
in the pueblos, and there was much gossip in
Taos about this regarding the annual Blue Lake
ceremony, which was singled out for particularly
vicious slander.37 The creation of imagery to
counter this would have been problematic,
given the layered patterns of secrecy in the
pueblo.38 Thus, Ufer and Hennings depicted
scenes that relate obliquely to ceremonial
practices; the artists certainly understood the
wishes of Pueblo friends not to paint images of
actual practices. Going East, a large exhibition
painting, refers to the annual pilgrimage made
by members of Taos Pueblo to Blue Lake, a
two-day journey of twenty miles up into the
mountains to the east.39 Clearly, with walking
sticks and firewood, they are prepared to go
a distance and to stay camped for some time.
The title of the painting is essential to the
understanding of the subject, although it would
probably not have been understood, or would
THAT MAN OUT THERE IN THE MOUNTAINS 153
 have been misunderstood, by eastern viewers.
Hennings’s Entering the Canyon is a similar
painting. Four men on horseback ride along the
Rio Pueblo in the direction of Blue Lake. Again,
the title is important but subtle. The artist’s
use of the term “entering” in the title suggests
that the men are crossing a boundary, one that
others do not pass.40 In Going to Blue Lake (see
figure 6.07), we see the figures about to enter a
dark wooded area; the implication is that this is
something private, a place where outsiders are
not permitted. 7.16
Walter Ufer, Going East,
More explicit is Hennings’s painting His Dance 1917. Oil on canvas; 50 × 50 in.
Bonnet. Counter to the stereotype of the Indian (127 × 127 cm). © 2015 The
Eugene B. Adkins Collection,
wearing feathers, the man holds the bonnet and
Philbrook Museum of Art, Tulsa,
looks down at it with a sense of melancholy. He Oklahoma, and the Fred Jones
stands next to a window in a house that appears Jr. Museum of Art, University of
Oklahoma, Norman (L2007.0125)
to be in town, not at the pueblo, his face in
shadow. The bonnet is a Plains bonnet, symbolic
perhaps of dances that strengthened the historic
ties between Taos and Plains tribes, as well as a
symbol of practices that were under threat that
year, potential victims of Circular 1665.
A statement about the maintenance of
traditional practice is also seen in Ufer’s The
Solemn Pledge, Taos Indians.41 Painted in 1916,
it is not a reference to the dance controversy
but more to the general threat of assimilation
posed by the Dawes Act, the placing of children
in boarding schools, and other pressures to leave
traditional ways. Here we see three generations.
The two older men are in white robes, as is the
boy. The younger man, wearing a yellow store-
bought shirt, is clearly the father. The elder in the
back is most likely the cacique, while the other
man is probably a society chief, the head of the
kiva to which the father belongs.42 The “solemn
7.17
pledge” the elders are hearing is one of the
E. Martin Hennings,
father committing his son to kiva instruction and Entering the Canyon, date
initiation. Kiva instruction was a serious decision, unknown. Oil on canvas;
30 × 36 in. (76.2 × 91.44 cm).
for it takes a boy out of schooling for a year or Stark Museum of Art, Orange, Texas
more. In the course of this, he is taught history, (31.32.32)

learns ceremonial practices, and becomes

fluent in the language—all aspects of culture
threatened by the boarding school system.

154 A PLACE IN THE SUN

7.18
E. Martin Hennings,
His Dance Bonnet, 1921.
Oil on canvas; 40 × 36 in.
(101.6 × 91.44 cm). Private
collection, Montana

155

 7.19
Walter Ufer, The Solemn
Pledge, Taos Indians, 1916.
Oil on canvas; 40.125 × 36.25 in.
(101.92 × 92.07 cm). Art
Institute of Chicago, Friends of
American Art Collection (1916.441)

156

7.20 (left)
E. Martin Hennings, The
Twins, 1923. Oil on canvas;
40 × 43 in. (101.6 × 109.22 cm).
Eiteljorg Museum of American
Indians and Western Art, Indianapolis
7.21 (right)
E. Martin Hennings, The
Sheep Herder, ca. 1925.
Oil on canvas; 40 × 40 in.
(101.6 × 101.6 cm). Private
collection
Ufer and Hennings produced paintings that
avoided Indian stereotypes and addressed
contemporary issues of concern to people at the
pueblo. Indeed, they paid less attention to non-
43
Indian subjects in general; Ufer and Hennings
intentionally portrayed Hispanics and Anglos in a
much more stereotypical manner.
Hennings’s portrait of the Baumgartner
twins, who were in Taos briefly in 1923, depicts
them seated atop a buckboard. Although in
modern dress, they are “old timers,” venerable
symbols of the great westward migration. 44
Their names, Jake and George, are known, but
the painting tells us little of their actual lives,
their concerns, or their goals.45 Although the
Taos artists seem to have had a fair degree
of latitude in their depictions of people in
the pueblo, including images of the tasks of
mundane daily life, a white subject was probably
more marketable if the sitter was more of a
“character,” in effect, a recognizable stereotype.
Similarly, Hennings’s The Sheep Herder is a kind
of pure portrait of an elderly man.46 Noble and
assured, he looks into our eyes like a venerable,
bearded Greek philosopher. It may have touched
the imagination of a visitor to an exhibition to
wonder about the life of this Socratic man of the
mountains, but the painting reveals little of the
life of the man himself, beyond place, occupation,
and a difficult physical life of relative poverty. In
spite of this, he seems to communicate a sense
of determination, resilience, and pride. While this
is a dramatically idealized image, another painting
by Hennings with a similar title, The Goat Herder,
shows the goat herder as an anonymous figure,
back turned to the viewer, a painting that comes
much closer to everyday reality.
At times, depictions of Hispanics were less
than sympathetic. Hennings’s Mexican Sheep
Herder shows a man in the mountains looking
out at the viewer with a firm stance, rifle in
hand. Although he is not actively aggressive, his
confrontational posture toward the viewer is an
intimidating one in a place where land issues
are often contested and where trespassers are
always noticed; they are usually confronted and
rarely tolerated. This large exhibition picture
was first shown at the Art Institute of Chicago
in 1925 and circulated to a number of venues,
including the Corcoran Eleventh Exhibition of
Contemporary American Oil Paintings in 1928.
The implicit aggression of the man in the painting
THAT MAN OUT THERE IN THE MOUNTAINS 157
 7.22
E. Martin Hennings, The
Goat Herder, 1925–27.
Oil on canvas; 45 × 50 in.
(114.3 × 127 cm). Private
collection

158
7.23
E. Martin Hennings,
Mexican Sheep Herder,
1925. Oil on canvas;
45.25 × 50 in. (114.93 × 127 cm).
Stark Museum of Art, Orange, Texas
(31.32.28)

159

 is a realist view of northern New Mexico, pre-
dating an actual incident in the mountains north
of Taos and the notorious 1927 trial of José
Maestas, who was accused and convicted of
murdering a hiker.47
Ufer also occasionally shared this
stereotyping sensibility in depicting Hispanics.
In Taos depicts two men, Indian and Hispanic,
leaning against a sunlit adobe wall, an image of
poverty but seemingly given without comment
on that condition.48 Hennings’s The Idlers is
somewhat similar in tone. An elderly man
reaches forward as if to ask for a handout.49 The
seated man with the pipe, his hat pinched in Tom
Mix style, would seem to be Anglo; however, the
narrow brim marks him as a dude or a tourist,
not a working cowboy.50 These paintings may
reflect a variation on a subject that enjoyed
some popularity in the late nineteenth century,
in paintings depicting the leisure class. Perhaps
the best known of these was Robert Frederick
Blum’s Two Idlers, a painting in the collection of
the National Academy of Design, undoubtedly
well known to both artists.51 This theme of
idleness contrasts with the many images of
toil or rest after a bountiful harvest; although it
sometimes included Indians, it invariably brought
in the “Mexican.”52 The figures in Ufer’s In the
7.24
Land of Mañana all fit the theme of idleness, Walter Ufer, In Taos, 1918.
Oil on canvas; 30 × 25 in.
(76.2 × 63.5 cm). Private
collection

7.25
Robert Frederick Blum,
Two Idlers, 1888–89.
Oil on canvas; 29 × 40 in.
(73.66 × 101.6 cm). National
Academy Museum, New York

160 A PLACE IN THE SUN

7.26
E. Martin Hennings, The
Idlers, prior to 1955. Oil
on canvas; 30 × 36.25 in.
(76.2 × 92.075 cm). Stark
Museum of Art, Orange, Texas
(31.32.60)

161

 and to some extent outsiders saw this as a
stereotype of the region in general; however, the
seated figure wearing a black sombrero is more
obviously stereotyped to a well-known image.53
He looks down, face shadowed by his large
sombrero, and rolls a cigarette. In this posture,
he conforms directly to the stereotype of the
“lazy Mexican” so often parodied in humor and
cartoonish images.
Clearly, the paintings of both men portrayed
Indians with more sympathy than they did their
Hispanic neighbors. This may be the result of a
more focused concentration on Native culture,
for they clearly understood that the Indian
subject was what sold readily. Whether the
audiences for these paintings saw the depth of
social commentary in them is hard to determine,
for critics generally stuck to commenting on
formal qualities and technique. Taos, to outsiders,
was simply a remote, exotic place. The realities
of life may have been understood to some 7.27
degree by the artists, but not by viewers in the to illuminate modern ceremonial life in response Walter Ufer, In the Land
of Mañana, 1916. Oil
Midwest and the East, where these pictures to the political pressures for Natives to give up
on canvas; 36 × 40 in.
were inevitably shown. traditional practices. And in ceremonial matters, (91.44 × 101.6 cm). Union
League Club of Chicago
Although the artists understood the Indians there were many things that they simply couldn’t
as a modern people and often portrayed them know. But in those gaps of conflicted feelings
as such, they also expressed concern about the and partial understanding, friendships could
long-held and widespread notion that traditional still form close bonds. And the artists could
Native culture was vanishing.54 “Our civilization understand and address the struggle for land
has terrific power. We don’t feel it, but that rights and control of the life-giving watersheds
man out there in the mountains feels it, and he that ensured Taos Pueblo’s continued survival.
can not cope with such pressure.” Ironically,
55
Jim Mirabal knew he couldn’t share everything
part of that pressure would have come from with Walter, but he could still feel the loss, mourn
the artists themselves. In spite of ongoing a friend, and commit Walter’s ashes to the arroyo
relationships with people at the Pueblo, they in the desert with the certain knowledge that he
knew that there were things they shouldn’t would merge with the landscape and the people
depict, however much they might have wanted of Taos.

162 A PLACE IN THE SUN

NOTES Epigraph 1: The Hartley-Strand correspondence from 1928
to 1941 is in folders 4–19, box 1, Yale Collection of
American Literature, Rebecca Salsbury James Papers,
Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library, New Haven,
Connecticut.
Epigraph 2: Quoted in Paul A. F. Walter, “The Santa Fe–Taos
Art Movement,” Art and Archaeology 4 (December 1916):
337.
1. Hartley’s friends in Taos were Mrs. Converse, Mabel
Dodge, Maurice Sterne, Leo Stein, Andrew Dasburg, and
a local resident, Jack Bidwell. Townsend Luddington,
Marsden Hartley: The Biography of an American Artist
(Boston: Little, Brown, 1992), 138–43. Andrew Dasburg,
personal communication with the author, 1966.
2. H
 artley was in Germany from May to November 1913, and
in the spring of 1914, he returned to Berlin and stayed until
December 1915.
3. Marsden Hartley, “America as Landscape,” El Palacio 5,
no. 21 (December 21, 1918): 340.
4. A
 ctually, there was little open hostility to Germans in New
Mexico; some families had resided there for decades.
Tomas Jaehn, Germans in the Southwest, 1850–1920
(Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2005),
139 and passim.
5. Had Hartley made the effort to get to know Ufer,
they presumably would have shared stories of their
experiences in Germany before the war but also would
have had in common a fascination with Indian culture, and
Hartley might have made acquaintance with someone
at the pueblo. After he left Taos, Hartley wrote several
perceptive essays on the philosophy and aesthetics of
Pueblo culture: “Tribal Esthetics,” Dial 65 (November 6,
1918): 399; “Aesthetic Sincerity,” El Palacio 5, no. 20
(December 9, 1918): 332; and “Red Man Ceremonials:
An American Plea for American Aesthetics,” Art and
Archaeology 9, no. 1 (January 1920): 6–14. Although
Hartley was familiar with the Blaue Reiter artists and
theosophist Rudolf Steiner’s November–December 1915
racially charged proto-Nazi lectures about the connections
between spirit and matter and the need to destroy certain
races in order to create symbols for a new age, these
certainly didn’t influence his view of Indians. Undoubtedly,
Ufer would have been offended by Steiner’s opinions.
6. “
 Walter Ufer Passes Away Here Sunday,” Santa Fe New
Mexican, August 3, 1936, 1, 4.
7. “
 Ashes of Walter Ufer Given to Wind and Desert,
Memorial Service for Artist Solemn,” Santa Fe New
Mexican, August 12, 1936, 6. (Several of the names in this
article are misspelled.)
8. Dorothea Fricke was chair of the Art Department at the
University of New Mexico and was involved with the Taos
extension school of the department. She studied at the
University of Nebraska and at the Art Institute of Chicago.
She resigned her position in 1936 when she married Ellis
Whitcraft. Ellis died in 1938. Dorothea was involved in
numerous art activities in Albuquerque until her death in
1969.
9. M
 abel Dodge Luhan, born to a wealthy family in Buffalo,
New York, became prominent in New York City social
and intellectual circles before moving to Taos in 1918 with
her third husband, Maurice Sterne. Mabel soon became
involved with Antonio Luhan from Taos Pueblo, and
they married in 1923. Her home, Los Gallos, was built
on land at the eastern edge of town; bordering Pueblo
land, it became a temporary refuge for many artists and
writers over the years. Ufer often painted on the land
east of her property. See Lois Palken Rudnick, Utopian
Vistas: The Mabel Dodge Luhan House and the American
Counterculture (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico
Press, 1998).
10. For a thorough account of the Las Cruces neighborhood,
this drainage, and its significance to the town of Taos, see
Sylvia Rodriguez, “Over Behind Mabel’s on Indian Land:
Utopia and Thirdspace in Taos,” Journal of the Southwest
53, nos. 3–4 (Autumn–Winter 2011): 379–402. For
general background, see Sylvia Rodriguez, “Land, Water,
and Ethnic Identity in Taos,” in Land, Water, and Culture:
New Perspectives on Hispanic Land Grants, ed. Charles L.
Briggs and John R. Van Ness (Albuquerque: University of
New Mexico Press, 1987), 313–403.
11. “
 Ashes of Walter Ufer”; Jim Mirabal, of Taos Pueblo, and
Bob Abbott were the models for Ufer’s last great painting,
Bob Abbott and His Assistant (1935; see figure 3.23), now
in the Speed Museum in Louisville. Ufer’s original title
was Two Workers, a title more fitting to Ufer’s socialist
political sensibilities and, significantly, giving emphasis
to the equality of the two men. For more about Ufer’s
working relationship and friendship with Mirabal, see
John Ott, “Reform in Redface: The Taos Society of Artists
Plays Indian,” American Art 23, no. 2 (Summer 2009):
80–107. It is perhaps not surprising that Ufer found a close
friend in Jim Mirabal, for the Mirabal family had at least
two decades of experience in working with outsiders.
Members of this family were the primary informants for
Merton Miller’s dissertation research at the pueblo in
the 1890s. Merton Leland Miller, A Preliminary Study of
the Pueblo of Taos New Mexico (Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1898). Jim Mirabal (Santiago Mirabal—
T’ö’pöałe, Elk Dust-storm) was a member of Water People
Society, as was Geronimo Gomez, who modeled for
Blumenschein, and Albert Martinez, who modeled for
Berninghaus. However, those individuals who associated
with, or worked for, the Taos artists were not related to
just one society, nor were family members associated
with only one society. Elsie Clews Parsons, Taos Pueblo
(Menasha, Wisc.: Banta Publishing, 1936), 80–83.
12. T
 he sociology of the Taos artists’ colony is complex and
multilayered. For the best account of this, see Sylvia
Rodriguez, “Art, Tourism, and Race Relations in Taos:
Toward a Sociology of the Art Colony,” in “University
of New Mexico Centennial 1889–1989,” special issue,
Journal of Anthropological Research 45, no. 1 (Spring
1989): 77–99. There is no doubt that close friendships
developed between the painters and models (e.g.,
Blumenschein: Geronimo Gomez, Epi Tenorio, Jim
THAT MAN OUT THERE IN THE MOUNTAINS 163
 Romero; Phillips: Manuel Mondragon, Geronimo Gomez;
Couse: Ben Lujan; Ufer: Jim Mirabal) and that they shared
some interests, such as camping and fishing, beyond
those of the studio and day wages. But, though none of
the Taos artists was wealthy, the social inequalities of
Taos and the relative poverty of their Indian and Hispanic
acquaintances made for relationships that were not
without tension, and these collaborations produced, in
large part, many highly marketable paintings that served
to promote touristic fictions and stereotypes. In their less
marketable paintings, the Taos artists at times sought to
project a more realistic view, one sympathetic to the daily
lives and concerns of the people whose portraits, usually
anonymous, they painted. Ufer was perhaps the most
committed to this point of view.
13. Phillips documented the breakdown in several
photographs. Their wagon has been described as a John
Deere light wagon; Peter H. Hassrick and Elizabeth J.
Cunningham, In Contemporary Rhythm: The Art of Ernest
L. Blumenschein (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press,
2008), 30. This is probably not the case, as there is no
way of identifying the maker from the photograph, and it
is unlikely that a Denver merchant would have sold a John
Deere since there were several wagon makers in that city
by the 1890s. The rig, with its special suspension, and
ribbing to hold a canvas top, was a light spring wagon,
a common type designed to handle rocky, mountainous
roads. Ray Smith, Smith-Made Wagons and Carriages,
Mill Spring, Missouri, conversation with the author
regarding the Phillips photographs, December 19, 2011.
Phillips refers to it as a “new spring wagon.” Jenny Parks
Forwood, Bert Geer Phillips: Trailblazer of Southwestern
Art (N.p.: privately printed, n.d.), 18, bound typescript,
New Mexico Museum of Art. The modern discovery of
the actual site of the breakdown is documented in Robert
R. White, “Sacred Site: Revisiting the Tale of Founding the
Taos Art Colony,” Southwest Art 23, no. 12 (May 1994):
60–66, 100.
14. Their stories do not agree in this detail about their
intention to go to Mexico. Blumenschein is the source of
this notion. See, for example, the accounts in Laura M.
Bickerstaff, ed., Pioneer Artists of Taos, rev. and expanded
ed. (Denver, Colo.: Old West Publishing, 1983), 29; and
Hassrick and Cunningham, In Contemporary Rhythm,
29. This is not so clear in Phillips’s version of the events,
where he says, “By September, we felt that we were
ready for the long trek to the Great Southwest, with Taos
as our first stopping place. We had heard of Taos, the
home and burial place of Kit Carson, and of the Indian
people who live in five story communal houses”; Bert
Phillips, “The Taos Art Colony, c. 1936,” Bert G. Phillips
Papers, Huntington Library, Art Collections, and Botanical
Gardens, San Marino, California; and in Forwood, “Bert
Geer Phillips.” Both are quoted full text in Julie Schimmel
and Robert R. White, Bert Geer Phillips and the Taos Art
Colony (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press,
1994), appendix D, 305–12, and appendix E, “The Taos
Art Colony, N.D.,” 313–17. In all likelihood, as Phillips
164 A PLACE IN THE SUN
suggests, they were headed for Taos from the beginning,
following Joseph Henry Sharp’s advice.
15. T
 aos Pueblo is an easy three-mile walk from the plaza;
none of the other pueblos are this convenient to the
nearest adjacent town. Taos Pueblo has a long history
of internal factionalism regarding attitudes toward
assimilation, secrecy, and interaction with outsiders, as
do some of the other pueblos. (Isleta and Hopi are also
examples of this.) See William N. Fenton, Factionalism
at Taos Pueblo, Anthropological Papers 56, Bureau of
American Ethnology Bulletin 164 (Washington, D.C.:
Smithsonian Institution, 1957), 297–345; Bernard J. Siegel
and Alan R. Beals, “Pervasive Factionalism,” American
Anthropologist 62, no. 3 (June 1960): 394–417; and
Edward P. Dozier, “Factionalism at Santa Clara Pueblo,”
Ethnology 5, no. 2 (April 1966): 172–85.
16. Carter H. Harrison, Stormy Years: The Autobiography of
Carter H. Harrison, Five Times Mayor of Chicago (New
York: Bobbs-Merrill, ca. 1935), 259, 286–87. “From
1905 to 1909 our only son had to spend his winters in
an equable climate at sea level. California became my
family’s winter home, where I visited it three times yearly,
always dropping off going and returning for visits to the
Pueblo Indians.” Carter H. Harrison, Growing up with
Chicago (Chicago: Ralph Fletcher Seymour, 1944), 329.
17. H
 arrison photographed and identified Albert Martinez,
who often modeled for Oscar Berninghaus and who
became a painter himself. Perhaps on Harrison’s 1905–
1906 trips, he was introduced to people at the pueblo by
some of the Taos artists. A few of Harrison’s photographic
prints are dated to that time; the Albert Martinez prints
are dated 1919. Most of the photographs have estimated
date ranges between 1905 and 1920. In all likelihood, they
were taken between 1905 and 1909.
18. W
 alter Ufer, foreword to Exhibition of Recent Paintings
by Walter Ufer, N.A., exhibition catalogue (New York:
Macbeth Gallery, 1928).
19. P
 robably Bert Phillips had the closest relationship with
Pueblo Indians. He remained in Taos because of his
affection for, and eventual marriage to, Rose Martin.
He dabbled in gold mining, opened a curio shop, and
eventually took a job with the Forest Service. Early on he
developed a friendship with Manuel Mondragon, who
worked for him as a model, and he made an effort to gain
the friendship of many men at the pueblo. “I made many
friends among the Pueblos. . . . Not a day passed that I did
not entertain from two to six of them for lunch”; Forwood,
“Bert Geer Phillips,” 60. Because Phillips was trusted,
he was likely instrumental in introducing other artists to
potential models.
20. “Art in the Southwest: Walter Ufer and His Work,” El
Palacio 24, nos. 20–21 (May 19–26, 1928): 404.
21. Ibid.
22. T
 he “title” of the photo is handwritten at the bottom.
Because the image is so faint, it is impossible to identify
the model from this photo. Left to right, the artists are
Sharp, Phillips, Couse, and Blumenschein. A related
photograph of the group at the Buffalo Bill Historical
 Center shows everyone clearly and identifies the Taos
Pueblo man as Soaring Eagle, Sharp’s friend and longtime
model. The teepee is one that Sharp acquired in Montana.
There is film footage of Phillips placing the headdress on
Soaring Eagle in Adventures in Kit Carson Land (1917),
produced by the New Mexico Tourist Promotion Bureau.
23. T
 his is a consistent characterization, from formal reports
of federal Indian agents to the popular press.
24. T
 he tract, comprising parts of the 1718 Antonio Martinez
Land Grant and the 1742 Antoine Leroux Land Grant,
gets its name from the Abiquiu lawyer Miguel Tenorio,
who represented the alleged heirs to the Martinez Grant
in the sale to Taos Pueblo. From 1891 to 1904 the U.S.
Court of Private Land Claims reviewed land claims in the
Southwest that had been guaranteed by the Treaty of
Guadalupe Hidalgo. Richard Wells Bradfute, The Court
of Private Land Claims: The Adjudication of Spanish and
Mexican Land Grant Titles, 1891–1904 (Albuquerque:
University of New Mexico Press, 1975). The Pueblos have
a long history of securing their land rights from Spain,
Mexico, and the United States. The claims are symbolized
by canes that have been issued from those governments
to the Pueblos. The canes are approximately thirty-three
inches long, the length of the Spanish vara, and so they
are also symbolic manifestations of measuring the land.
Martha LaCroix Dailey, “Symbolism and Significance of
the Lincoln Canes for the Pueblos of New Mexico,” New
Mexico Historical Review 69, no. 2 (April 1994): 127–44.
25. A concise summary of the Tenorio tract litigation is found
in Sylvia Rodriguez, The Matachines Dance: A Ritual
Dance of the Indian Pueblos and Mexicano/Hispano
Communities (Santa Fe, N.Mex.: Sunstone Press, 2009),
chapter 3, endnote 1, 166–67. See also Pueblo de Taos
vs. A. R. Manby et al., New Mexico Supreme Court, 1917,
transcript, Francis Cushman Wilson Papers on Pueblo
Legal Issues, 1913–1956, MSS 304 BC, University
of New Mexico, Center for Southwest Research,
Albuquerque; and U.S. Soil Conservation Service, Notes
on the Tenorio Purchase Tract, Soil Conservation Service,
Division of Regional Planning, Southwest Region, 1936.
In court documents this land is called La Rinconada del
Rio de Lucero. Wilson’s copy of the transcript contains a
hand-written note indicating the terms of settlement with
Manby.
26. T
 he Tenorio tract and the Rio Lucero were not religious
sites for the Pueblo but were integral to their livelihood;
their claim to the land was defended as such in court, not
on religious grounds. Blue Lake, which was put under
the control of the U.S. Forest Service in 1906 and not
returned to the Pueblo until 1971, was always argued to
be Taos property on religious grounds; from it flows the
Rio Pueblo, which runs through the middle of the village.
The Rio Lucero was not considered a ceremonial site,
so outsider knowledge about it and controlled access
was not problematic. (In 1929, Tony Luhan took Georgia
O’Keeffe camping at Bear Lake, near the headwaters of
the Rio Lucero.) While access by outsiders to ceremonial
sites was prevented, other places were considered less
sensitive. Elizabeth A. Brandt, “On Secrecy and the
Control of Knowledge: Taos Pueblo,” in Secrecy: A Cross-
Cultural Perspective, ed. Stanton K. Tefft (New York:
Human Sciences Press, 1980), 123–46.
27. Taos vs. Manby, 182.
28. Titled “An Act to quiet title to lands in Pueblo Indian land
grants, and for other purposes,” this bill was opposed
by the Pueblos as well as by artists and writers in New
Mexico, among others, an opposition that has been
copiously documented in decades of scholarship. See
recent accounts in Rodriguez, “Art, Tourism, and Race
Relations”; Ott, “Reform in Redface”; and Hassrick and
Cunningham, In Contemporary Rhythm. For an important
primary document, which includes the text of the
statement “An Appeal to the People of the United States,”
read to Congress by representatives of the Society of
American Indians on behalf of the All Indian Pueblo
Council, see Elizabeth Shepley Sergeant, “Big Powwow
of Pueblos,” New York Times, November 26, 1922, 6, 69.
See Tisa Wenger, “Culture, and Sovereignty in the Pueblo
Dance Controversy,” Journal of the Southwest 46, no. 2,
(Summer 2004): 381–412, endnote 1, for discussion of the
Bursum Bill and reference to the location of the original
document in the Princeton University Library.
29. Artists may have seen this as a viable marketing gamble,
given the importance of agriculture in the minds of
Americans during the war and after. Farmers were
encouraged to increase production. In 1918 public funding
was provided for emergency crop and feed loans. By the
late 1920s federal subsidies for grain markets were in
place. Donald C. Horton and E. Fenton Shepard, “Federal
Aid to Agriculture Since World War I,” Agricultural History
19, no. 2 (April 1945): 114–20.
30. A
 lthough owned by Mrs. William H. Crocker of San
Francisco, Man with the Hoe was widely reproduced
and probably one of the best-known French paintings in
America. It was the direct stimulus for Edward Markham’s
famous poem by the same name, which was written
in 1898 and first published in 1899. Wildly successful,
Markham’s poem was put out in new editions through the
1930s. Berninghaus was not the only person to produce
a negative critique of the poem; it was often satirized,
and the growing labor movements were quick to point
out that conditions in America were different. Like some
other exhibition pictures by the Taos artists, particularly
ones that did not conform to the Indian stereotype,
Berninghaus’s painting did not find a private buyer and
went into the collection of the University City School
District, Saint Louis, Missouri.
31. Ufer foreword.
32. Rose V. S. Berry, “Walter Ufer in a One-Man Show,”
American Magazine of Art 13, no. 12 (December 1922):
514.
33. T
 his may be the case with much of the social commentary
in the paintings of the Taos artists. Contemporary
reviewers never probed the meaning of Blumenschein’s
painting Star Road and White Sun, preferring to
concentrate on the formal elements of the painting.
THAT MAN OUT THERE IN THE MOUNTAINS 165
 James Moore, “Ernest Blumenschein’s Long Journey
with Star Road,” American Art 9, no. 3 (Autumn 1995):
7–27. This may have been due to the lack of contextual
knowledge about Taos, but it is also the result of the
artists’ hesitation at times to be more explicit, which
suggests an attitude that is somewhat conflicted in
purpose. They might have wanted to be reformers, but at
bottom they were also salespeople for their work.
34. Like other paintings of this type, it found no private buyer
and went into a public collection. For years it was in the
permanent collection of the Harwood Museum, Taos.
35. T
 he Pueblos did not, nor do they now, farm commonly
held land. When someone was fined for an infraction
and didn’t have the fine in cash, material goods would
be taken. In the case of large fines, land would be
confiscated. These payments would be held until the
end of the year (elections were and are held annually),
at which time the payments would be equally divided
among the ten members of the governor’s staff. M.
Estellie Smith, “Governing at Taos Pueblo,” Eastern New
Mexico University, Contributions in Anthropology 2, no. 1
(December 1969): 11.
36. C
 harles H. Burke, commissioner of the Department of the
Interior Office of Indian Affairs, issued Circular 1665, on
April 26, 1921, with a supplement issued on February 14,
1923, on the subject of “Indian Dancing.” This document
sought to classify certain dances and “so-called religious
ceremonies” as “Indian Offences” and set out certain
prohibitions and strict regulations of such practices. In
spite of its opening claim that it sought not “to denounce
all forms of Indian dancing,” Circular 1665 was seen by
Native peoples as highly offensive. The people of Taos
Pueblo, and the artists who were their friends, took it as a
severe and ignorant action on Burke’s part, and it became
a focus of vigorous protest as a result. For a discussion of
these documents and the reaction to them, see Margaret
D. Jacobs, “Making Savages of Us All: White Women,
Pueblo Indians, and the Controversy over Indian Dances in
the 1920s,” Frontiers: A Journal of Women Studies 17, no.
3 (1996): 178–209; Wenger, “Culture and Sovereignty”;
and Skip Keith Miller, “Superstition and the Artist’s
Defense of Indian Rights,” in Hassrick and Cunningham,
In Contemporary Rhythm, 119–27.
37. John J. Bodine, “The Taos Blue Lake Ceremony,”
American Indian Quarterly 12, no. 2 (Spring 1988): 91–105.
38. Brandt, “On Secrecy.”
39. N
 ot all Pueblo members do this every year. There are ten
societies that participate in initiations at Blue Lake, and
each year one society is the designated group that has
this responsibility. Bodine, “Taos Blue Lake Ceremony,”
94. In 1918 Going East won the Thomas B. Clarke Prize at
the National Academy of Design.
40. There are very few instances of non-Indians being
taken to Blue Lake. The only account of the Blue Lake
pilgrimage by an outsider comes from anthropologist
Matilda Coxe Stevenson, who was at Taos in 1906.
Bodine, “Taos Blue Lake Ceremony,” 94–100. Phillips,
who worked for the Forest Service, certainly saw the
166 A PLACE IN THE SUN
lake, as there are photos in his scrapbook; these are taken
from above, however, not at the level of the lake. Some
people from the pueblo do make the trip on horseback,
but this is considered to be counter to the “old way,”
and a “relaxation of the rules.” Bodine, “Taos Blue Lake
Ceremony,” 101.
41. The painting won the Martin B. Cahn Prize at the Art
Institute of Chicago, and was purchased by the AIC’s
Friends of American Art.
42. T
 he position of cacique is an inherited one within a family.
Prior to Spanish contact and the establishment of elected
government systems, the cacique was both a religious
and a secular leader in the pueblo. After the establishment
of the system of annually elected leaders, the role of
the cacique evolved to be more involved with traditional
religious practices. See Smith, “Governing at Taos
Pueblo,” 21–25 and passim. Taos men belong to different
kiva-affiliated societies and each one has a society chief.
See Smith, “Governing at Taos Pueblo,” and Parsons,
Taos Pueblo, 74–83.
43. H
 ispanics in northern New Mexico were equally
concerned, and angered, over many of the decisions of
the U.S. Court of Private Land Claims, but these concerns
did not publicly surface with the same intensity as the
Indian claims over the Bursum Bill. The Taos artists
probably did not understand the complexities of this issue
in how it affected Hispanic Americans, and addressing it
would have had little market value.
44. A
 nother Hennings portrait of them is titled Old Timers.
45. This information is oral history and comes from private
conversation with Robert White, based on an interview
conducted by White with Hennings’s widow, Helen,
probably in February 1985. Efforts to locate the
Baumgartner twins by the names of Jake (or Jacob) and
George have not produced results. The 1917 Denver City
Directory lists a Jake Baumgartner working as a teamster
for the Plains Iron Works.
46. Interaction between the Taos artists and local Hispanics
was fairly limited. The Sheep Herder might be a portrait of
Jesus Duran, father of Julian Duran, whom Buck Dunton
painted in 1926 in Pastor de Cabras—Neo Mexicano. The
dates of these two paintings are close. Born about 1854,
Jesus lived in town and was listed in the 1880 census
as a laborer. By 1910, he had bought land in the canyon
east of town, where he raised a few goats, enough for
his young son, Julian, to care for; his occupation in the
census data is listed as “Farm Hand,” and under the
column that details the general nature of the business, the
note is “works out.” (Census data from ancestry.com.)
Although many Hispanics ran sheep in the mountains,
few kept goats. Indeed, Jesus’s neighbors in the canyon,
the Marcereneos family, all had sheep ranches. Jesus’s
occupational information, “works out,” may refer to
partido contracts Julian held with the Marcereneos family.
It was common practice in northern New Mexico for
ranchers with sizable herds of livestock to divide them
up and negotiate subcontracts in order to properly care
for their livestock. See Ralph Charles, “Development of
 the Partido System in the New Mexico Sheep Industry”
(M.A. thesis, University of New Mexico, Department of
Economics, 1940).
47. James Moore, “Twelve Men Listening: Blumenschein’s
Struggle with Murder, Justice, and the Inarticulate
Soul of America,” in Hassrick and Cunningham, In
Contemporary Rhythm, 290–303. To my knowledge, no
painter other than Blumenschein chose to depict the trial;
Blumenschein’s painting may be unique in that regard
because it was a submission to the mural competition for
the new Department of Justice Building in Washington,
D.C. Clearly, Maestas carried a rifle; however, that was not
the case with all who tended livestock in the New Mexico
mountains.
48. N
 othing about the seated man in the hat identifies him as
specifically Hispanic; however, of the few Anglos in the
town, virtually none lived in poverty. This was not the case
in the Hispanic community, where legal maneuverings of
the 1890s had removed them from their land base. Also,
the Hispanic method of land division in families, dividing
plots in ever thinner strips perpendicular to the watershed,
eventually left some younger children with strips too small
to provide a sustainable living.
49. T
 he model in this painting seems to be the same man
who modeled for The Sheep Herder. Once a relationship
with a model was established, the person was likely to be
used for other pictures. This is surely the case with all the
Taos artists. While the standing man is clearly asking for a
handout, the seated man may simply be “idle.”
50. Tom Mix formed his own hats, high crowned and
essentially reversing the pinch of the very popular Champie,
a style named after Lawton Champie, a working cowboy
and champion rodeo competitor of the twenties and
thirties. Since the twenties, western hat styles have been
continually influenced by the movies.
51. This painting was Blum’s National Academy diploma
presentation piece, May 26, 1894.
52. A
 lthough many families in northern New Mexico trace
their lineage to early colonists, the term Hispanic, widely
used today, was rarely heard in the early twentieth
century, and residents in New Mexico were, from 1821
to 1848, citizens of Mexico. Most people of Hispanic
descent would have called themselves “Spanish
American” but were generally characterized by outsiders
as Mexican. Many New Mexico Hispanics have, over
the years, disassociated themselves from more recent
immigrants from Mexico by insisting on a different
terminology. While the Indians of New Mexico had a long
history of working out their relationships with the Spanish
settlers, Anglos were particularly prejudiced against
Mexicans.
53. In the Land of Mañana won the first Frank G. Logan Medal
at the Art Institute in 1917.
54. Although they knew the “vanishing Indian” was, in
a literal sense, a fiction, and even made fun of that
notion, they were still ambivalent in their feelings about
change and assimilation in Pueblo culture. For a general
discussion of the idea of the “vanishing Indian” in the
United States, see Brewton Berry, “The Myth of the
Vanishing Indian,” Phylon 21, no. 1 (1960): 51–57; and
Brian Dippie, The Vanishing American: White Attitudes
and U.S. Indian Policy (Middletown, Conn.: Wesleyan
University Press, 1982).
55. Walter Ufer, quoted in “Art in the Southwest,” 403.
THAT MAN OUT THERE IN THE MOUNTAINS 167
 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
It is with great pleasure that we thank those
individuals who assisted in the realization of
this exhibition and publication. The project’s
first sparks were ignited through discussions
between Peter H. Hassrick and me. Our
respective interests in the work of Walter
Ufer and E. Martin Hennings developed into a
compelling narrative that considered them as a
pair. A deeper examination of the artists’ career
trajectories and paintings led to the realization
that connecting the two would give not only the
opportunity to compare their art, but the ability
to tell a complex story about a specific aspect of
American society during the interwar period.
We were assisted in our research by the
grandchildren of E. Martin Hennings, Leslie
Winton of Lincolnshire, Illinois, and Jeffrey
Winton of Green Oaks, Illinois, who lent the
Denver Art Museum the artist’s scrapbook for
research purposes. Additionally they granted
permission to reproduce images of Hennings’s
work. Much of what is known about Hennings
is due to research conducted by Robert Rankin
White, who passed away in 2014. Hennings’s
most dedicated biographer, White initially found
relatively little documentation of Hennings’s
life and career (many important papers were
destroyed in a fire in the 1920s), but he
befriended Hennings’s widow, who provided
enlightening accounts of the artist. Through
conversations with Mrs. Hennings, study of
the artist’s oeuvre, and thorough research of
(Detail)
Taos, New Mexico, during its heyday as an art
E. Martin Hennings,
Announcements, ca. 1924. colony, White has made a significant contribution
(See figure 5.18, p. 110)
169
to the scholarship pertaining to this important
American artist. His early efforts have been
invaluable to our project and we thank him, albeit
posthumously, for his dedication.
Another scholar of the Taos artists, Dean
Porter, has gathered and cataloged multiple
archives, including the papers of Ufer’s major
patron William Klauer. Porter has studied the
life of Walter Ufer for years, and his efforts have
been essential to the understanding of this
complicated artist and man. We thank him and
also the Snite Museum and University of Notre
Dame Archives, which allowed access to the
Walter Ufer Papers in their care. From the outset
Stephen L. Good of Denver enthusiastically
supported the project in myriad ways. Good
collected correspondence to Walter Ufer for
Rosenstock Art Gallery and Old West Publishing,
which served as the source for his 1983 essay,
“Walter Ufer: Munich to Taos, 1913–1918.”
Later donated to Notre Dame, this archive is the
richest extant today on Ufer. Good cheerfully
provided his photocopy of the archive to assist
with research. Additionally, he went to great
lengths to assist in securing loans for the
exhibition and was a gentle, informative guide as
he recalled with great visual memory details of
paintings seen decades earlier.
At the Denver Art Museum, Christoph
Heinrich, the Frederick and Jan Mayer Director,
heartily endorsed the exhibition project along with
chief curator Nancy Blomberg. Lori Iliff, director
of exhibitions and collections services, negotiated
a range of issues with infallible judgment,
 ably aided by Jill Desmond, Jennifer Pray, and
Laura Paulick Moody. Arpie Chucovich, chief
development officer, and her colleague Chiara
Robinson led the team that capably coordinated
the fund-raising for the exhibition. Deputy director
and chief marketing officer Andrea Kalivas Fulton
and her colleagues in communications and
marketing, Kristy Bassuener, Katie Ross, Shadia
Lemus, and Elle Welch, promoted the exhibition.
Sarah Melching, Silber Director of Conservation,
and conservator Pam Skiles carefully cared for
the exhibition’s paintings, while John Lupe, David
Griesheimer, and their ace teams oversaw a
beautiful exhibition installation. Jeff Wells and
Christina Jackson enhanced this publication with
excellent photography, and Laura Caruso, head
of publications, expertly guided this publication
at every step. Thanks also to Molly Medakovich,
who developed the educational components to
this exhibition.
Sincere gratitude goes to the staff of the
Petrie Institute of Western American Art, who
wholeheartedly dedicated themselves to this
project. Curatorial assistants Nicole Parks
and Meg Erickson played a central role in all
functions of the department while adeptly
organizing the loans and correspondence for
the exhibition. Karen Brooks McWhorter, now
Scarlett Curator of Western American Art,
Whitney Western Art Museum at the Buffalo Bill
Center of the West, greatly elevated the quality
of this publication through her diligent efforts
and countless hours in her former position as
department assistant. Sara Cook stepped in as
interim assistant when Karen left, and Julianne
Maron, Publications and Programs Coordinator,
guided the publication to completion. Staff
aides Tobi Watson and Mary Willis helped in
innumerable ways. The institute is fortunate to
have an advisory board whose members, Robert
Boswell, Gary Buntmann, Gerri Cohen, Ray
Duncan, Patrick Grant, Charles Griffith, Robert
Lewis, Thomas A. Petrie, Nancy Petry, Henry
Roath, and James Wallace, are steadfastly
dedicated to its mission.
170 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
We are grateful to our lenders and the
colleagues who assisted with these important
loans: Sarah Anschutz Hunt and Darlene
Dueck, American Museum of Western Art—
The Anschutz Collection, Denver; Douglas
Druick, Judith A. Barter, and Anna Simonovic,
Art Institute of Chicago; Doreen Bolger, David
Park Curry, and Melanie Harwood, Baltimore
Museum of Art; Sharon Corwin, Elizabeth Finch,
and Paige M. Doore, Colby College Museum of
Art, Waterville, Maine; John Vanausdall, James
Nottage, and Christa Barleben, Eiteljorg Museum,
Indianapolis; Mark White, Fred Jones Jr.
Museum of Art, University of Oklahoma,
Norman, Oklahoma; James Pepper Henry and
Susan Buchanan, Gilcrease Museum, Tulsa,
Oklahoma; Gary Tinterow, Kaylin Weber, John
Obsta, and Maggie Williams, Museum of Fine
Arts, Houston; Steven Karr, Mike Leslie, and
Melissa Owens, National Cowboy and Western
Heritage Museum, Oklahoma City; David R.
Brigham, Harry Philbrick, Anna Marley, and
Jennifer Johns, Pennsylvania Academy of the
Fine Arts, Philadelphia; Randall Suffolk, Catherine
Whitney, Chris Kallenberger, Darcy Marlow, and
Jaye McCaghren, Philbrook Museum of Art,
Tulsa, Oklahoma; Amada Cruz, Jerry Smith,
and Leesha M. Alston, Phoenix Art Museum;
Jonathan W. Palmer and Deb Wold, Principia
College, Elsah, Illinois; Linda Dennis, Carrie
Johnson Breitbach, and Jason Judd, Rockford
Art Museum, Rockford, Illinois; Charles R.
Loving and Rebeka Ceravolo, Snite Museum of
Art, University of Notre Dame, Indiana; Ghislain
d’Humières, Scott Erbes, and Chuck Pittenger,
Speed Art Museum, Louisville, Kentucky; Trina
Nelson Thomas, Sarah E. Boehme, and Allison
Evans, Stark Museum of Art, Orange, Texas;
Elizabeth K. Whiting, Union League Club of
Chicago; Ray and Kay Harvey, Paradise Valley,
Arizona; Janis and Dennis Lyon; Richard and
Nedra Matteucci; The TIA Collection; and several
private collections.
Others provided assistance with loans,
advised on research inquiries, and offered valuable
professional advice. We thank Michael Frost,
J. N. Bartfield Galleries, New York; Eric Widing,
Tylee Abbott, and Anne Habecker, Christie’s;
Ann Brown and Dustin Belyeu, Nedra Matteucci
Galleries, Santa Fe, New Mexico; Nathaniel
Owings and Laura Widmar, The Owings Gallery,
Santa Fe, New Mexico; Gerald Peters and
Ana Archuleta, Gerald Peters Gallery, Santa Fe,
New Mexico; Richard Lampert and Mark Zaplin,
LENDERS TO THE EXHIBITION
American Museum of Western Art—
The Anschutz Collection, Denver
Art Institute of Chicago
Baltimore Museum of Art
Colby College Museum of Art, The Lunder
Collection, Waterville, Maine
Denver Art Museum
Eiteljorg Museum, Indianapolis
Fred Jones Jr. Museum of Art, University of
Oklahoma, Norman
Gilcrease Museum, Tulsa, Oklahoma
Museum of Fine Arts, Houston
National Cowboy and Western Heritage
Museum, Oklahoma City
Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts,
Philadelphia
Philbrook Museum of Art, Tulsa, Oklahoma
Zaplin Lampert Gallery, Santa Fe, New Mexico;
Laura Finlay Smith, Dennis Smith, and Scott
Hale; B. Byron Price, University of Oklahoma;
Rick Stewart, Joan Carpenter Troccoli, and
Mick Cluck.
We are pleased to acknowledge the myriad
contributions of the lenders and colleagues
who have aided the Denver Art Museum in this
important exhibition and publication.
Thomas Brent Smith
Phoenix Art Museum
Principia College, Elsah, Illinois
Rockford Art Museum, Rockford, Illinois
Snite Museum of Art, University of Notre
Dame, Indiana
Speed Art Museum, Louisville, Kentucky
Stark Museum of Art, Orange, Texas
Union League Club of Chicago
✜
Ray and Kay Harvey, Paradise Valley, Arizona
Janis and Dennis Lyon
Richard and Nedra Matteucci
The TIA Collection
Private collections (10)
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 171
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IMAGE CREDITS
1.03. Sybille Forster. Photograph courtesy Art
Resource, New York
1.08. Sybille Forster. Photograph courtesy Art
Resource, New York
1.12. Photograph by Kilian Blees
1.13. Sybille Forster. Photograph courtesy Art
Resource, New York
1.17. Reproduced from microfilm with permission
from the Hennings family, frame 0168.
Microfilm courtesy Smithsonian Institution,
Archives American Art
1.19. © Frye Art Museum, Seattle, Washington
1.21. © Museum Villa Stuck. Photograph by
Wolfgang Pulfer
1.24. Courtesy the grandchildren of E. Martin
Hennings
2.01. Image courtesy Dean Porter
2.02. Image courtesy Dean Porter
2.04. Image courtesy Dean Porter
2.06. Image courtesy Dean Porter
2.07. Image courtesy Couse Family Archive
2.08. Image courtesy Dean Porter
2.09. Image courtesy Dean Porter
2.15. Photograph © Terrence Moore
2.16. Image courtesy Gerald Peters Gallery,
Santa Fe, New Mexico
3.02. Image courtesy The Owings Gallery,
Santa Fe, New Mexico
3.06. Photograph by John R. Glembin
3.11. Image courtesy J. N. Bartfield Galleries,
New York © 2015 Christie’s Images Limited
3.15. Image courtesy Gerald Peters Gallery,
Santa Fe, New Mexico
3.18. Photograph by Mitro Hood
3.19. Photograph © William J. O’Connor
4.05. Courtesy the grandchildren of E. Martin
Hennings
181
4.09. Courtesy Bill Mayer
4.11. Image courtesy Zaplin Lampert Gallery,
Santa Fe, New Mexico
4.12. Image courtesy Sotheby’s, Inc. © 2014
4.13. Craig Smith, photographer, Phoenix,
Arizona
4.14. Courtesy the grandchildren of E. Martin
Hennings
4.16. Courtesy the grandchildren of E. Martin
Hennings
4.17. Courtesy the grandchildren of E. Martin
Hennings
5.02. Photograph © Jenifer Cady Photography
5.05. Photograph © Jenifer Cady Photography
5.09. Reproduced from microfilm with permission
from the Hennings family, frame 0365.
Microfilm courtesy Smithsonian Institution,
Archives of American Art
5.10. Reproduced from microfilm with permission
from the Hennings family, frame 0008.
Microfilm courtesy Smithsonian Institution,
Archives of American Art
5.11. Reproduced from microfilm with permission
from the Hennings family, frame 0008.
Microfilm courtesy Smithsonian Institution,
Archives of American Art
5.12. Image courtesy Gerald Peters Gallery,
Santa Fe, New Mexico
5.14. Image courtesy Gerald Peters Gallery,
Santa Fe, New Mexico
5.15. Bridgeman Images
5.20. Photograph © Jenifer Cady Photography
5.24. Image courtesy Gerald Peters Gallery
5.29. Image courtesy Nedra Matteucci Galleries,
Santa Fe, New Mexico
6.05. © 2014 Georgia O’Keeffe Museum and
Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York
 6.10. Image courtesy The Owings Gallery,
Santa Fe, New Mexico
6.11. Image courtesy Gerald Peters Gallery,
Santa Fe, New Mexico
6.12. Photograph © Terra Foundation for
American Art, Chicago
7.01. Photograph © Terra Foundation for
American Art, Chicago
7.09. Image courtesy Gerald Peters Gallery,
Santa Fe, New Mexico
7.10. Digital image courtesy Getty’s Open
Content Program
7.15. Image courtesy Gerald Peters Gallery,
Santa Fe, New Mexico
7.21. Image courtesy The Owings Gallery,
Santa Fe, New Mexico
7.22. Photograph © Jenifer Cady Photography
7.24. Image courtesy Gerald Peters Gallery,
Santa Fe, New Mexico

182 IMAGE CREDITS

INDEX
Images are indicated with italic type.
Abbott, Bob, 41, 42–43, 68, 145, 163n11
Abendstern (Stuck), 20, 21
Académie Julian, Paris, 29
Academy of Fine Arts, Munich: Chicago students,
8–9, 23n5, 23n10; curriculum structure, 16;
entrance requirements, 15–16, 25nn37–38;
reputation, 7–8; student age ranges, 24n17;
women students, 10, 24n20. See also Jank,
Angelo; Stuck, Franz von
Academy of Western Painters exhibition, Los
Angeles, 91n58
Acequia Madre (Ufer), 45n51
Adams, Kenneth, 144
Adobe House at Ranchito (Higgins), 90n19
agriculture: Berninghaus’s painting, 150, 165n30;
Hennings’s portrayals, 110, 135–37, 153;
Hispanic Americans, 166n46; national context,
165n29; as Pueblo Indian characterization,
148–49; Ufer’s portrayals, 62, 137, 150–51
A. H. Ullrich Gold Medal, 79
alla prima technique, 47–48
Altman Prizes, 36, 38, 62, 75n33
American Academy, Rome, 78
American Artists Club, 6, 20, 22, 25n53, 79
American Artists’ Congress, 139
American Art Journal, 95
The American Desert (Ufer), 74n12
American Magazine of Art, 117
Among the Aspens (Hennings), 132
Announcements (Hennings), 86, 91n46, 106, 110,
132, 134, 135
Armory Show, cultural impact, 23n14, 47, 74n2,
132, 141nn23–24
Armour Meat Packing Company, 29, 30, 32
183
Aron, Albert W., 90n18
Art Academy, Chicago, 9–10, 29–30
Art Institute of Chicago: and Armory Show,
23n14, 141n24; curriculum structure, 78;
exhibitions, 90nn18–19; instructors at, 23n5,
23n10; photo of, 78
Art Institute of Chicago, Hennings’s relationship:
awards, 84, 86, 91n48, 93, 122n28; as career
inspiration, 78, 89n7; exhibitions, 81, 84, 86,
88, 90n18, 91n46, 105, 110, 157; student
years, 8–9, 78, 89n8, 89n13
Art Institute of Chicago, Ufer’s relationship:
awards, 126, 166n41, 167n53; exhibitions,
32, 33, 49, 51–56, 61, 74n9, 74n12, 90n19;
rejections of paintings, 32, 33; student
months, 29
The Artist (Ufer), 45n51
Art News, 106
Ashcan group, New York City, 126
Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe Railway Company,
88, 91n63
At Dusk (Hennings), 20
Autumn (Ufer), 67, 69
avant-garde style, Ufer’s exposure, 21–22. See
also modernism, American
Babcock Galleries, 40
The Bakers (Ufer), 56, 58
Barter, Judith A., 128
The Battery—Union Square (Ufer), 35
Baumann, Gustave, 41–42, 45n54, 45n57, 75n34,
100
Baumgartner, George, 105, 157, 166n45
Baumgartner, Jake, 105, 157, 166n45
Bavarian Technical School, 24n32
Bellows, George, 48, 52–53, 74n19
 Beneath Clouded Skies (Hennings), 84, 85
Berninghaus, Charles, 149, 150
Berninghaus, Oscar E.: agriculture scenes,
150, 165n30; art society memberships, 86;
formation of Taos Society of Artists, 83, 140n6;
and Hartley, 144; Martinez’s modeling for,
163n11; on Rio Lucero camping trip, 149, 150
Betalo Rubino, Dramatic Dancer (Henri), 53–54
Bidwell, Jack, 163n1
Biehle, August, 22
Binner Engraving Company, 29
Bismarck Hotel, Chicago, 40, 45n50
Black Furs (Hennings), 80, 81
Blauer Reiter group, 21, 22
Blaze and Buckskin (Ufer), 45n54
Bloch, Albert, 22
Blue Lake, Pueblo value, 130, 153–54, 165n26,
166nn39–40
Blum, Robert Frederick, 160, 167n51
Blumenschein, Ernest L.: art style, 102, 123n40;
broken wagon story, 145, 164nn13–14; in fade
away photograph, 148, 149, 164n22; on future
of Indian art, 128; Gomez’s modeling for,
163n11; and Hartley, 144; on Hogue’s painting,
140n14; on Rio Lucero camping trip, 149, 150;
social commentary subtlety, 165n33; on Taos
art colony, 99–100; on Taos as inspiration, 95;
and Taos Society of Arts, 83, 123n35, 140n6;
at Ufer’s memorial service, 144; on Ufer’s
paintings, 36, 61
Bob Abbot and His Assistant (Ufer), 43, 45n59,
68, 73, 163n11
Boeller, Susanne: chapter by, 7–25; comments
on, 4–5
Boulanger, Gustave, 9
Bow Bender (Higgins), 90n19
Bradley, Jack, 144–45
Brakls Kunsthaus, 20–21, 25n53
The Bridge (Hennings), 90n21
Broder, Patricia Janis, 24n18, 89n12
The Broken Bow (Sharp), 97
broken wagon story, 145, 164nn13–14
Brown, Eugene, 41
Builders of the Desert (Ufer), 137, 139, 144, 145
Burke, Charles, 153, 166n36
Bursum Bill, 135, 141n27, 149–50, 165n28
Butler Purchase Prize, 90n19
By the Stream (Hennings), 98, 99
184 INDEX
El Cacique del Pueblo (Ufer), 74n12
cacique position, Pueblo Indians, 154, 166n42
Cahn Prize, 52, 86, 122n28, 126, 166n41
The Canyon Trail (Hennings), 97, 99, 122n14
Capitol Decorations Project, Missouri, 37
Carnegie Institute, 36, 90n20
Carr Memorial Prize, 84, 122n28
Carson, Pirie, Scott and Company, 35, 36, 95
Catholic images, in Ufer’s paintings, 48–51, 62,
64, 67, 74n6
CELA (Commission for the Encouragement of
Local Art), 32, 33, 81–82, 90n23, 94
ceremonial practices, federal suppression, 153–
54, 166n36
Champie, Lawton, 167n50
Chase, William Merritt, 31, 47
Chicago: civic art support, 32, 81–82, 90n23,
91n48, 94; Columbian Exposition, 28;
Hennings family arrival, 77, 89n4; as Hennings
winter home, 84; importance for Hennings,
77; Munich art students, 8–9, 23n5; as Ufer
winter home, 32–33
Chicago Arts Club, 126
Chicago art syndicate: creation of, 32; Hennings’s
support, 34, 81–82, 84, 126; Ufer support, 32,
33, 81, 126
Chicago Evening Post, 31–32, 102
Chicago Galleries Association, 117
Chicago Herald Examiner, 35, 56
Chicago Times, 35
Chicago Tribune, 36
Chicago Watercolor Club, 32
Chimayo church, 49–51, 74n11
The Chosen Site (Hennings), 88
Christian Science Monitor, 116, 122n24
Circular 1665, Burke’s, 153, 166n36
Clark, William, 27
Clarke Prize, 35, 61, 126, 166n39
Clyde M. Carr Memorial Prize, 84, 122n28
Cochiti Pueblo, 146, 147
Commission for the Encouragement of Local Art
(CELA), 32, 33, 81–82, 90n23, 94
Congress Hotel, Chicago, 89n12
Cooke, Regina Tatum, 43
Corcoran Gallery of Art, 74n20, 91n58, 100, 106,
117, 157
The Cornpicker (Ufer), 150–51
Corwin, Charles A., 23n5
Court of Private Land Claims, 149, 165n24,
166n43
Couse, E. Irving: art style, 37, 102, 110, 120;
death, 144; in fade away photograph, 148,
149, 164n22; formation of Taos Society of
Artists, 83, 140n6
Critcher, Catherine, 86, 106
Crocker, Mrs. William H., 165n30
Cross, W. O., 27
Currier Gallery, 40–41, 45n51
Dasburg, Andrew, 163n1
A Daughter of San Juan Pueblo (Ufer), 48–49,
74n6
Davis, Stuart, 41, 43, 139
Dean, Ernest, 25n53
Defregger, Franz, 10, 24n26
Delong, Lea Rosson, 140n14
Denver and Rio Grande Railroad system, 146
Depression, Slaughtering Cattle, Ranchos de Taos
(Hennings), 135–36
Der Bund association, 10, 24n23
Dieguito Roybal-Po-Tse-Nu-Tsa (Henri), 140n8
Diehl, Conrad, 23n5
Die Scholle, 16, 21
Diez, Julius, 15
A Discussion (Ufer), 38, 75n33
Dresden Royal Academy of Fine Arts, 28, 31
The Drinking Place (Hennings), 90n22
Dryer, Joel, 89n4, 89nn12–13, 89n17
Dunn, John, 144
Dunton, William Herbert “Buck,” 83, 105, 123n35,
140n6, 144, 166n46
Duran, Jesus, 166n46
Duran, Julian, 166n46
Duveneck, Frank, 23n5, 47
dynamic symmetry, Hambidge’s theory, 67
Earle, Lawrence C., 23n5
Edgerton, Giles, 105
Egri, Kit, 140n17
Egri, Ted, 140n17
Elderly Lady (Hennings), 81, 90n20, 90n35, 93, 94
Englewood Woman’s Club Prize, 81
engraving work, Ufer’s, 27–29
Entering the Canyon (Hennings), 154
Erbslöh, Adolf, 16
ethnicity factor, art studies, 9. See also German
ethnic group
Eugene, Frank, 16
European City Night Scene (Hennings), 18
Evening at Laguna (Hennings), 90n28, 139n2
Evening Star (Stuck), 20, 21
fade away photograph, 148, 149, 164n22
Fantasies (Ufer), 148
Faun und Nymphen (Jank), 21
federal commissions, 41, 45n54, 88
The Fiddler of Taos (Ufer), 67–68, 71
Fiesta Day (Hennings), 99
figure drawings, Ufer’s, 11
Fine Arts Journal, 95
First Altman Prize, 36, 62
Flight (Hennings), 121
The Ford (Ufer), 74n12
Forty-Eighters, 27, 44n3
Frank G. Logan Medal, 54, 56, 126, 167n53
Frantzius, Fritz von, 9
Frederiksen, Christine, 29, 45n44
Frederiksen, Ditlev, 30
Frederiksen, Nils Christian, 30
Frederikson, Mary Monrad: Copenhagen stay, 31,
32; dislike of Taos, 45n52; family background,
30; first visit to Taos, 33; during influenza
epidemic, 144; marriage, 29; Munich period,
10, 14–15, 25n44, 31; patron development
ideas, 32; photo of, 29; political activity, 41,
45n53; travels in Europe, 30–31; and Ufer’s
alcoholism, 41
Freer, Frederick, 23n5
French art styles, 8, 9, 15, 23n5, 23n14
French Memorial Gold Medal, 67–68
Fricke, Dorothea, 144, 163n8
A Friendly Encounter (Hennings), 101, 102, 122n24
Frieseke, Frederick, 52
From the Rooftops (Ufer), 56
Gallery 291, 74n2
The Garden Makers (Ufer), 137, 138, 150–51
Gaspard, Leon, 84
The Gateway (Ufer), 75n27
INDEX 185
 The Gay Bridge (Kroll), 52
German ethnic group, 8–9, 27, 44nn1–3, 49, 61,
144, 163n4
Gilpin, Laura, 141n28
Gloucester, Massachusetts, 84, 91n36
The Goat Herder (Hennings), 110, 111, 158
Going East (Ufer), 35, 58, 61, 126, 129–30, 131,
140n16, 153, 154, 166n39
Going Home (Hennings), 120, 121, 132
Going to Blue Lake (Hennings), 124, 130, 132,
133, 154
Goltz, Hans, 22
Gomez, Geronimo, 149, 150, 163n11
Gomez, Joe, 150
Gookins, James, 23n5
Grace Episcopal Cathedral, Chicago, 89n12
Grand Central Galleries, 36, 38, 40
Grandmother (Hennings), 90n20
Grant, Blanche C., 84
Great Depression, art impact, 40, 87–88, 135–36
Gregorita with the Santa Clara Bowl (Henri),
126–27, 129, 139n5
Grover, Oliver Dennett, 23n5
Grundmann, Günter, 24nn25–26
Gusdorf, Gerson, 144
Gysis, Nikolaus, 10
Habermann, Hugo von, 16
Halali (Hunter’s Signal) (Jank), 16, 17
Hambidge, Jay, 67
Hamburg period, Ufer’s, 28
Hans Goltz Moderne Galerie, 21
Harrison, Carter H., Jr.: civic art leadership, 32,
94; Hennings relationship, 81–82, 84, 90n22,
90n26, 95, 122n14, 125–26; photo of, 81;
Southwest visits, 146, 147, 164nn16–17; Ufer
relationship, 32, 33, 34, 36–37, 48, 51–52, 68,
90n26
Harrison, Edith Ogden, 84
Harrison, William Preston, 32, 33, 90n22, 97
Hartley, Marsden, 16, 74n2, 129, 140n15, 143–44,
163nn1–2, 163n5
Hartman, Bertram, 10, 22, 23n16, 25n51, 25n56
Hassam, Childe, 52
Hassrick, Peter H.: chapter by, 93–123; comments
on, 5
Hastings, Peter, 90n20
186 INDEX
Helmrichs, Hugo, 13, 24n29, 24n32
Hennings, E. Martin: overview of life, 3–4;
absences from Taos, 99–100, 116; approach
to painting, 77–78, 89n1; art association
memberships, 79, 81, 86, 88, 106, 135;
awards/prizes, 20, 79, 81, 84, 86, 87, 91n41,
91n48, 91n58, 93, 105, 122n28, 132; Chicago
art syndicate support, 32, 34, 90n22;
Chicago art training, 9, 78, 89n8, 89n13;
childhood/youth, 9, 77, 78, 89nn3–4, 89nn7–8;
commercial artwork, 78, 79, 88, 89nn11–12,
135; death and eulogies, 88, 121, 132, 139;
Europe painting tour, 86, 87, 116; and Hartley,
144; on his painting development, 116–17;
marriage, 86, 91n49, 116; Massachusetts
visit, 84, 91n36; move to Taos, 86–87, 91n54,
100, 135; opinion of abstraction, 132, 141n21;
in Paris, 15, 22, 31; patron support, 81–82,
84, 88, 95, 112, 120, 125–26; photos of, 18,
79, 87, 88, 102; returns to Chicago, 79, 84;
Southwest visits, 81–83, 84, 90n26, 90n29,
95; Taos as inspiration, 83, 84, 88, 91n40, 93,
94–95, 120; Ufer friendship, 82–83, 90n29,
95, 145; winters in Texas, 87, 91n56
Hennings, E. Martin (descriptions of his art):
agriculture scenes, 110, 135–37, 153; aspen
tree representations, 86, 132; close-up
portraits, 112; color schemes, 93; community
member portrayals, 95, 97; court trial, 167n47;
cultural traditions, 100, 117, 120, 154; familial
relationships, 97; gender values, 106; Hispanic
figures, 110, 160n49; hunting scene, 112,
116; interior scenes, 100; joyful nature, 102,
112, 121; labor portrayals, 135–37; landscape
travels, 97, 99, 105–106, 117, 121, 122n24;
Munich influences, 18, 20, 81, 93, 132; mural
perspective, 135; music representations, 117;
pilgrimage representations, 130, 132, 154;
rejection of abstraction, 117, 132, 141n21; self-
portrait scene, 77, 89n1; social commentary,
135–37; spirituality scenes, 105, 135; western
common men, 105, 157
Hennings, E. Martin (exhibitions of his art):
Chicago, 79, 81, 84, 86, 87, 88, 90n18, 91n46,
91n59, 102, 105, 110, 117, 120, 157; Detroit,
110; Los Angeles, 91n58; New Mexico, 82,
90n28, 91n46, 120, 121, 125, 139n2; New
York City, 81, 86, 90n20, 90n35, 116; Paris,
86, 110; Pennsylvania, 81, 86, 90n21, 91n46;
Philadelphia, 110; Saint Louis, 81, 90n21;
Texas, 87; Venice, 84, 91n41; Washington,
D.C., 91n58, 100, 106, 117, 157
Hennings, E. Martin (images of his art): At Dusk,
20; Announcements, 110, 134; Beneath
Clouded Skies, 85; Black Furs, 80; By the
Stream, 98; Depression, Slaughtering Cattle,
Ranchos de Taos, 135; Elderly Lady, 94;
Entering the Canyon, 154; European City
Night Scene, 18; Fiesta Day, 99; A Friendly
Encounter, 101, 102; The Goat Herder, 111,
158; Going Home, 120; Going to Blue Lake,
124, 133; His Dance Bonnet, 100, 155; The
Idlers, 161; In New Mexico, 96; Irrigation,
136; Juanita, 112; Mexican Sheep Herder,
111, 159; Morning, 9, 79; Passing By, 92, 107;
Portrait of a Bearded Man in Hat, 19; The
Prospector’s Cabin, 103; Pueblo Indians, 109;
The Rabbit Hunt, 115; The Rendezvous, 118;
Running Through the Chamisa—Winter, 116;
The Sheep Herder, 136, 157; Stringing the
Bow, 97; The Surprise, 21; Taos Indian, 82;
Taos Indian Chanters with Drum, 119; Taos
Profile, 114; Thistle Blossoms, 87; Through
the Greasewood, 108; The Twins, 104, 157;
Untitled (Portrait), 114; Untitled (Portrait of
Frank Samora), 113; Untitled (Self Portrait),
76; Untitled (Sketch for European City Night
Scene), 18; Untitled (Sketch for Morning), 79;
Untitled (Standing Nude Male), 15; The Vine,
83
Hennings, E. Martin (Munich period): American
Artists Club membership, 60, 22, 25n53,
79; appeal factors, 7–10; art studies, 15–18,
25n44, 78, 132; avant-garde art exposure,
21–22; exhibitions, 20–21; Paris visit, 15, 22
Hennings, Helen (earlier Otte), 86–87, 91n49, 116
Hennings, Helen (later Winton), 91n40, 121
Henri, Robert, 48, 53–54, 74n19, 126–28, 129,
139n5, 140n8
Henry Ward Ranger Fund, 91n41
Her Daughter (Ufer), 56–58
Hewett, Edgar, L., 90n28, 126, 140n7, 143
Hiatt, Jane, 88
Higgins, Victor, 32, 34, 80, 81, 84, 90n19, 94–95,
99
His Dance Bonnet (Hennings), 100, 154, 155
His Kit (Ufer), 37
His Makin’s (Ufer), 90n19
Hispanic Americans: Hennings’s portrayals,
157, 159, 160, 166n46, 166n48; land losses,
166n43, 166n48; terminology changes,
167n52; Ufer’s portrayals, 160, 162, 167n48
His Song (Ufer), 75n27
His Wealth (Ufer), 37
Höcker, Paul, 16
Hogue, Alexandre, 128–29, 140n14
Homeward Bound (Hennings), 88
Houston, Texas, 87, 91nn55–56
Houston Museum of Fine Arts, 40, 91n41
Hückeswagen, Germany, 27
Hunger (Ufer), 36, 62, 64, 67, 68
Hunter, Alice, 27
Hurd Frieze (Ufer), 37
The Idlers (Hennings), 160, 161, 167nn49–50
Illinois Women’s Athletic Club, 110
Indian Arts Fund, 141n27
Indian Citizenship Act, 74n23
Indian Corn—Taos (Ufer), 151, 152
Indian Farmer of Taos (Berninghaus), 150, 165n30
influenza epidemic, 62, 143, 144
In His Garden (Ufer), 151, 152
In Mourning (Hennings), 90n18
In New Mexico (Hennings), 90n22, 95–97
In Taos (Ufer), 75n27, 160
In the Land of Mañana (Ufer), 54–56, 74n20, 142,
160, 162, 167n53
In the Studio (Portrait of the Artist’s Wife) (Thor),
14
Irrigation (Hennings), 136, 137, 153, 166n34
Isidor Gold Medal, 38, 75n33, 91n41
Isleta Pueblo, Ufer’s relationship, 32, 33
Jank, Angelo, 16–17, 21, 25n42
Jewett, Eleanor, 112
Jim and His Daughter (Ufer), 38, 40
Juanita (Hennings), 112
Juergens, Johann, 28
Jugend magazine, 14
Jugendstil, characteristics, 14, 20, 78, 132
juried exhibitions, rebellions against, 126, 140n6
Kachina (O’Keeffe), 129, 140n6
Kandinsky, Wassily, 16, 21–22
katsina paintings, 128–29, 140n6
Kissel, Eleanora, 144
kiva instruction, 51, 154
INDEX 187
 Klauer, William, 34, 35, 45n50, 84
Krehbiel, Albert, 140n7
Kroll, Leon, 48, 52, 74n19
Kuehl, Gotthardt, 28
Künstgewerbeschule, Ufer’s studies, 28
Kunstverein exhibitions, 20, 22
Laguna Pueblo, 56, 90n26, 95
Lambert Tree Studio Building, 79, 80, 84, 89n17
land claims, 135, 149, 165n24, 165n26, 166n43
land ownership tradition, Pueblo Indians, 153,
166n35
Landscape, Taos, New Mexico (Higgins), 90n19
Leeds, Valerie Ann, 139n5
Lefebvre, Jules Joseph, 9
Leibl, Wilhelm, 12, 24n26
Lily, Big Game Hunter (Dunton), 105
Linder, Bennet S., 25n53
Lippincott Prize, 86, 132
The Listeners (Ufer), 127, 128
lithographic training, Ufer’s, 27–28
Logan Medal, 54, 56, 126, 167n53
Lonesome Song (Ufer), 42, 43
Louisville, Kentucky, 27–29, 44n1–2
Ludwig I, 24n33
Ludwig II, 7
Luhan, Mabel Dodge, 43, 121, 130, 132, 163n1,
163n9
Luhan, Tony, 130, 163n9, 165n26
Luitpold-Grupper association, 10, 24n23
Luitpold (prince regent), 7
Lummis, Charles, 100
Luncheon at Lone Locust (Ufer), 38, 39, 75n33
Luzanna and Her Sisters (Ufer), 36, 66, 67
Macbeth, William, 31
Macbeth Galleries, 38, 151
Maestas, José, 160, 167n47
Making Ready (Ufer), 58, 60
Manby, Arthur, 149
“Man with a Hoe” (Markham), 165n30
Man with a Hoe (Millet), 150
Man with an Olla (Ufer), 45n51
Man with a Pumpkin (Ufer), 40
Marc, Franz, 16
188 INDEX
Marin, John, 74n2
Markham, Edward, 165n30
Marr, Carl, 16, 23n10
Marshall Field and Company, 84, 86, 91n49,
91n59, 102, 105, 120
Martin, “Doc” Thomas, 32
Martin, Robert R., 89n4, 89nn12–13, 89n17
Martin, Rose, 164n19
Martin B. Cahn Prize, 52, 86, 122n28, 126,
166n41
Martinez, Albert, 163n11, 164n17
Martinez land grant, 149, 165n24
Martini, Herbert E., 20, 25n53
Matisse, Henri, 141n24
Mayer, Oscar F., 34, 81, 90n22, 112
McKee, Robert E., 88
McWhorter, Karen Brooks: chapter by, 77–91;
comments on, 5
Me and Him (Ufer), 2, 61–62, 63
Meissonier, Ernest, 27
Mentor, on Hennings, 106
Metropolitan Museum of Art, 37, 75n33
Meuser, Alwina (later Ufer), 27
Mexican Sheep Herder (Hennings), 86, 91n58,
110, 111, 157, 159, 160
Mi Casa (Ufer), 45n51
Milch Galleries, 116
Miller, Merton, 163n11
Millet, Jean-François, 150
Mirabal, Jim: family background, 163n11;
friendship with Ufer, 41, 62; at Ufer’s
memorial service, 145, 162
Mirabal, Jim (as Ufer’s model): Bob Abbott
and His Assistant, 43, 68, 163n11; during
formulaic period, 36; Going East, 130; His
Wealth, 37; Near the Waterhole, 67; Red
Moccasin, 127
Mix, Tom, 160, 167n50
Moderne Galerie Thannhauser, 21
modernism, American: appeal of Native American
culture, 128–29, 140n14; Armory Show’s
impact, 47, 74n2, 132, 141nn23–24; and
Hennings’s art, 106, 110, 116–17, 130, 132,
141n21; Henri’s role, 126; and Ufer’s art,
129–30
Mohr Art Galleries, 139n5
Mondragon, Manuel, 164n19
Moore, James C.: chapter by, 143–67; comments
on, 5
Moore Galleries, Ufer’s exhibition, 41
Morning (Hennings), 9, 78, 79, 89n14
Munich, art reputation, 3–4, 7–8. See also
Hennings, E. Martin (Munich period); Ufer,
Walter (Munich period)
murals (Hennings), 78, 88, 89nn11–12, 135
Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, 91n41
Museum of New Mexico: Hartley relationship,
143; Hennings relationship, 82, 90n28, 120,
121, 139n2, 140n7; Henri relationship, 126,
140n7; opening of, 90n27, 125; photo of, 82;
Ufer relationship, 74n19
My Indian Model (Ufer), 74n9
My Model at Rest (Ufer), 45n51
My Studio Courtyard (Ufer), 45n51
National Academy of Design: Blum’s painting,
160; Hennings’s paintings, 81, 86, 90n20,
90n35, 91n41; Hogue’s painting, 140n14;
power in art world, 126; Ufer’s paintings, 35,
36, 38, 61, 62, 75n33, 126, 166n39
Navajo Sandpainter (Hennings), 88
Near the Waterhole (Ufer), 67, 70
Neff, Emily Ballew, 106
Nelson, Mary Caroll, 89n1, 91n36
Neubeuern, market square, 17–18, 25n44
Neue Kunstsalon, 16
Neue Pinakothek, 16, 24n24, 24n33
New Mexico Painters, 38
New York City: Babcock Galleries, 40; Gallery 291,
74n2; Grand Central Galleries, 36, 38, 40;
modern art movement beginnings, 126. See
also National Academy of Design
Oferta para San Esquipula (Ufer), 49–51, 74n12
O’Keeffe, Georgia, 74n2, 128–29, 140n6, 165n26
Oklahoma Artists Association, 41
Old Spanish Gate at Taos (Ufer), 90n19
On Taos Indian Reservation (Hennings), 90n22
Otte, Helen (later Hennings), 86–87, 91n49, 116
PAFA (Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts), 36,
68, 81, 86, 90n21, 132
Palace of the Governors, 32, 126
El Palacio, 32, 94, 143, 147
Palette and Chisel Club, 32, 34, 79, 81, 93
Panama-Pacific International Exposition, 49, 74n8,
126
Paris, 9, 15, 86
Parsons, Sheldon, 86
Passing By (Hennings), 91n41, 92, 105–106, 107
The Passing Winter Clan (Ufer), 74n12
Pastor de Cabras—Neo Mexicano (Dunton),
166n46
Payne, Edgar, 93
Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts (PAFA), 36,
68, 81, 86, 90n21, 132
Pensive (Hennings), 90n18, 94
Phillips, Bert G.: art society membership, 83,
86, 140n6; Blue Lake, 166n40; in fade away
photograph, 148, 149, 164n22; friendships
with Pueblo Indians, 149, 164n19; on future
of Indian art, 128; on Rio Lucero camping trip,
149, 150; wagon breakdown, 145, 164nn13–14
Phillips, Ralph, 149, 150
photography, 136, 141n28
Porter, Dean A.: chapter by, 27–45; comments
on, 5
Portrait of a Bearded Man in Hat (Hennings), 18,
19
Portrait of Mary (Ufer), 14–15, 30, 31
Portrait of the Artist’s Son in the Studio (Thor), 12
portrait painting, Ufer’s Chicago period, 32, 33
The Priest’s Row, Taos (Ufer), 90n19
Prince, Sue Ann, 132, 141n23
privacy values, Pueblo, 130, 141n19, 165n15
Prix de Rome competition, Hennings’s entry, 9,
10, 78
The Prospector’s Cabin (Hennings), 103, 105
Public Works of Art Project, 41, 88
Pueblo Indians: cacique position, 154, 166n42;
kiva instruction, 51, 154; land ownership
tradition, 153, 166n35. See also Taos Pueblo
Pueblo Indians (Hennings), 106, 109
Pueblo Lands Act, 135
Purinton, Virginia R., 44n9
The Rabbit Hunt (Hennings), 112, 115
railroads, 88, 91n63, 145, 146
Rak, Rodger, 136
The Red Moccasins (Ufer), 126–27, 129
The Rendezvous (Hennings), 117, 118
INDEX 189
 Rio Lucero watershed, 149, 165n26. See also Stark, H. J. Lutcher, 88
Blue Lake, Pueblo value Stark Museum of Art, 90n20
Robinson, Edward, 25n44 Star Road and White Sun (Blumenschein),
Rolshoven, Julius, 95 165n33
Rosa Cota of San Juan Pueblo (Ufer), 74n8 Stein, Leo, 163n1
Rubino, Betalo, 53–54 Steiner, Rudolf, 163n5
The Rummager, Taos (Higgins), 90n19 Stendahl Galleries, Ufer’s exhibition, 41
Running Through the Chamisa—Winter Sterne, Maurice, 144, 163n1, 163n9
(Hennings), 116, 117 Stevenson, Matilda Coxe, 166n40
Rupert, Adam J., 23n5 Stieglitz, Alfred, 74n2
Rushing, W. Jackson, 140n6 Strathman, Carl, 25n51
Stringing Chili (Ufer), 90n19
Saint Louis Art Museum, 81, 90n21 Stringing the Bow (Hennings), 90n22, 97
Salome (Stuck), 8, 9 String Miser (Higgins), 90n19
Samora, Frank, 97, 100, 112, 113, 137 Stuck, Franz von: art style, 17, 18–20, 25n48;
San Juan Pueblo, 32, 82 images of his art, 8; influence on Hennings,
Santa Fe, 32, 143–44. See also Museum of New 8–9, 132; teaching approach, 16, 18, 19,
Mexico 25n45, 78
Santa Fe New Mexican, 95 Studio Corner—Taos (Hogue), 128–29
Santa Fe Pueblo, 32 Study of a Horse (Jank), 16
Santa Fe Railway, 33 subscription program idea, 32
El Santuario de Chimayó (Ufer), 49–51, 74n12 Die Sünde (Stuck), 18, 20
Sass, George, 84 Supreme Court, New Mexico, 149, 165n25
Savage, Eugene Francis, 78 The Surprise (Hennings), 20, 21, 90n18
The Sawdust Trail (Bellows), 52–53 Svoboda, Josef, 144
Schimmel, Julie, 89n14
School of the Art Institute, Chicago, 9, 23n14, 78, Tafoya, Jesus Maria, 137
89n8 Taos: art colony origins, 145–46, 163nn13–14;
Schwabing borough, Thor’s school, 10, 24n21 Hartley’s perspective, 143–44, 163n1;
Second Altman Prize, 38, 75n33 Hennings’s first visit, 82–83, 95; as Hennings
summer home, 84; influenza epidemic, 62;
secrecy values, Pueblo, 130, 141n19, 165n15
Ufer’s first visit, 32. See also specific topics,
Secret Dance File, Burke’s, 153, 166n36 e.g., Hennings entries; Taos Pueblo; Ufer
Self-Portrait (Thor), 10 entries
Sharp, Joseph Henry, 83, 97, 117, 120, 140n6, 148 Taos Artists Association, 88
The Sheep Herder (Hennings), 136–37, 157, Taos (Higgins), 80
166n46, 167n49 Taos Indian Chanters with Drum (Hennings), 117,
Silver Clouds (Ufer), 75n27 119, 120
Sin (Stuck), 18, 20 Taos Indian (Hennings), 82, 90n28, 139n2
Sleep (Ufer), 36, 46, 68, 72 Taos Indian in Cornfield (Ufer), 74n8
Smith, J. Francis, 9–10, 29–30 Taos Plaza, New Mexico (Ufer), 58, 59, 90n19
Smith, Thomas Brent: chapters by, 3–5, 47–75; Taos Profile (Hennings), 112, 114
comments on, 5 Taos Pueblo: Blue Lake’s value, 130, 153–54,
Soaring Eagle, 164n22 165n26, 166nn39–40; kiva instruction, 51,
The Solemn Pledge, Taos Indians (Ufer), 51–54, 154; land conflicts/claims, 135, 149, 165n24,
74n12, 74n20, 154, 156, 166n41 165n26, 166n43; Phillips’s friendships, 164n19;
The Southwest (Ufer), 40 privacy values, 130, 141n19, 147, 164n15

190 INDEX
Taos Society of Artists: competitive impact,
99–100; dissolution, 38, 123n35, 140n6;
exhibitions, 87, 91n55, 106, 110, 139n5;
formation, 83, 140n6; friendship network,
145, 149, 163n12; Hennings’s membership,
86, 106; photos of, 33, 34; political activism,
141n27, 149–50, 165n28; Ufer’s membership,
32, 34, 36
Taos (Ufer), 74n9
Taos Valley News, 43, 106
Temple Gold Medal, 36, 68
Tenorio, Miguel, 165n24
Ufer, Walter (descriptions of his art): agriculture
Tenorio tract, conflict, 149, 165n24, 165n26
Texas, 40, 87, 91n41, 91nn55–56
Their Audience (Ufer), 62, 65, 67, 75n31
Thistle Blossoms (Hennings), 87
Thomas B. Clarke Prize, 35, 61, 126, 166n39
Thor, Walter: art school of, 10, 12, 24n21; images
of his art, 10, 12, 14; painting style, 13–15;
reputation, 10, 12, 24nn23–24, 24n33, 31;
teaching style, 12, 24n25, 31
Through the Greasewood (Hennings), 106, 108
Tomasito of Isleta (Ufer), 90n19
Trailing (Ufer), 74n9
Trask, John E. D., 45n44
The Twins (Hennings), 86, 104, 105, 157
Two Idlers (Blum), 160, 167n51
Tyrolean Girl (Ufer), 24n29
Ufer, Walter (exhibitions of his art): Chicago, 32,
Tyrolean peasant genre, 10
Tyrolean Woman—Plein Air (Ufer), 13, 24n29, 48
Ufer, Alwina (born Meuser), 27
Ufer, Mary Monrad Frederikson. See Frederikson,
Mary Monrad
Ufer, Otto, 28, 36
Ufer, Walter (images of his art): Autumn, 69; The
Ufer, Peter, 27
Ufer, Walter: overview of life, 3–4; art association
memberships, 22, 34, 38, 49, 86, 139;
awards/prizes, 29, 35, 36, 38, 52, 54, 56, 61,
62, 67–68, 126, 166n39, 166n41, 167n53;
Chicago art training, 9–10, 29; Chicago portrait
painting, 32–33; childhood/youth, 9, 27–28,
44n9; commercial employment, 28–29, 30;
death and eulogies, 43, 139, 144–45, 162;
decline of career, 36–38, 40–41, 68; Dresden
period, 28–29; early Southwest visits, 32,
33–34, 48–49, 81, 94; federal commissions,
41, 45n54; and Hartley, 144, 163n5;
Hennings relationship, 90n26, 90n29, 95;
Henri relationship, 126; importance of Taos,
36, 74n22, 94–95; late life work, 42–43, 68,
75n33; lifestyle distractions, 36, 40, 41–42,
68, 75n34; marriage, 29–30; on modern
Indian, 147, 151; New York City months, 35–
36; patron support, 32, 33–34, 126; photos
of, 22, 26, 29, 30, 37, 43; returns to Chicago,
31–32, 49; social consciousness/political
activity, 41, 45n53, 49, 61, 139, 147; travels
in Europe with wife, 30–31. See also Ufer,
Walter (Munich period)
scenes, 62, 137, 150–51; all prima technique,
47–48; artifact uses, 58, 68, 127–28, 130, 148;
color schemes, 56, 58, 67, 68; community
events, 58, 62, 67; comparisons with
contemporaries, 52–54, 126–27, 129, 139n5;
dynamic symmetry experimentation, 67;
familial relationships, 51, 56, 62, 68, 154; as
genre painter, 48; Hispanic culture/people, 49,
51, 67, 160, 162, 167n48; interior scenes, 62,
68; labor scenes, 62, 68, 137, 139, 163n11;
landscape portrayals, 48–49, 54, 56, 61–62,
130, 140n17; modern Indian complexities,
116, 148; Munich-American blending, 95;
pilgrimage portrayal, 58, 129–30, 140n16,
153–54; social commentary, 51, 62; Thor’s
influence, 13–15, 31. See also Ufer, Walter
(images of his art)
49, 51–56, 61, 74n9, 90n19, 95; Los Angeles,
41; New Hampshire, 41, 45n51; New York
City, 38, 40, 61, 151; Pennsylvania, 36, 68;
personal management of, 36; San Francisco,
41, 49, 74n8, 126; Santa Fe, 32, 74n19, 125;
Trask’s management of, 45n44; Washington
D.C., 74n20
Bakers, 58; The Battery—Union Square, 35;
Bob Abbot and His Assistant, 73; Builders
of the Desert, 137, 144; The Cornpicker,
151; A Daughter of San Juan Pueblo, 48; A
Discussion, 38; Fantasies, 148; The Fiddler
of Taos, 71; figure drawings, 11; From the
Rooftops, 56; The Garden Makers, 138, 151;
Going East, 61, 131, 154; Her Daughter,
57; His Kit, 37; Hunger, 64; Hurd Frieze,
37; Indian Corn—Taos, 152; In His Garden,
152; In Taos, 160; In the Land of Mañana,
55, 142, 162; Jim and His Daughter, 40; The
Listeners, 128; Lonesome Song, 42, 43;
INDEX 191
 Luncheon at Lone Locust, 39; Luzanna and
Her Sisters, 66; Making Ready, 60; Me and
Him, 2, 63; Near the Waterhole, 70; Oferta
para San Esquipula, 50; Portrait of Mary, 14,
30; The Red Moccasins, 127; El Santuario
de Chimayó, 50; Sleep, 46, 72; The Solemn
Pledge, Taos Indians, 51, 52, 156; The
Southwest, 41; Taos Plaza, New Mexico, 59;
Their Audience, 65; Tyrolean Woman—Plein
Air, 13; Woman of Dachau, 31. See also Ufer,
Walter (descriptions of his art)
Ufer, Walter (Munich period): with American
Artists Club members, 7, 22; appeal factors,
7–10; avant-garde art exposure, 21–22; figure
drawing development, 12–13; Paris visit, 15,
22, 31; studies with Thor, 10, 12–15, 24n18,
24n29, 31
Ullrich, Albrecht, 31
Ullrich Gold Medal, 79
United Artists Congress, 41
Untitled (Portrait) (Hennings), 112, 114
Untitled (Portrait of Frank Samora) (Hennings),
112, 113
Vanderpoel, John H., 9, 78
vanishing race idea, 147–48, 162, 167n54
Van Soelen, Theodore, 86
Vengeance (Hennings), 91n58
Venice, 84, 91n41
The Vine (Hennings), 82, 83, 90n28, 139n2
192 INDEX
wagon wheel story, 145, 164nn13–14
Walter, Paul A., 82, 125
Walter Lippincott Prize, 86, 132
Watson, Ruth, 121
Weber, Max, 139
Wendlstedt, Baron von, 25n44
Whitcraft, Ellis, 163n8
White, Robert R., 89n13, 91n49
Whitney, Catherine: chapter by, 125–41;
comments on, 5
William M. R. French Memorial Gold Medal,
67–68
Wilson, Louis, 23n10
Wilson, Woodrow, 51
Winter in New Mexico (Hennings, ca. 1925),
91n48
Winter in New Mexico (Ufer, ca. 1930), 45n51
Winton, Helen Hennings, 87, 91n40, 121
Woman of Dachau (Ufer), 31
World War I, artist impact: on Hartley, 143; on
Hennings, 22, 79; on Ufer, 35, 44n2, 49, 51,
58, 61, 75n27; and value of Taos, 95
World War I, Native American participation, 74n23
World War II, 120–21
A Yearling (Ufer), 45n51
Zügel, Heinrich von, 16