Edwin Lord Weeks and his Teachers by Bowen Supple
Currents of mellow color, cultural unity, and an effortless quietude; these are the qualities of Edwin Lord Weeks’ paintings of India, Morocco, and the South Americas. Some semblance of childlike wonder permeates through his scenes, but it is not his subject matter that captivates me; it is his sublime presentation.
A Bostonian from birth, Weeks would go on to paint in the great workshops of Paris, under the guidance of pioneers like Jean-Léon Gérôme and Léon Bonnat. As a pupil of truly great painters, Weeks began to make prominent work around his early twenties, in the 1870s. His style was often reminiscent of the orientalist subjects and grand displays of his tutors, eventually carved his path to reach high rankings in the art world. However, his departure from the styles of his seniors is what distinguishes his creative eye.
“Reception of Le Grand Condé at Versailles”
Take a scene like “Reception of Le Grand Condé at Versailles,” painted by master Jean Leon Gerome, who was one of Weeks’ teachers. The scene distinguished a clear focal point with a highly detailed, noisy background. Ornamentation and people fill this visual landscape, creating an epic sense of order, beauty, and grandeur. Similarly in another work, Gerome’s gladiatorial scene named “Ave Caesar! Morituri te salutant,” envelopes the viewer in an innumerable crowd, emphasizing victory and individual power. These scenes scream with noise, of those who are captured in them. Gerome involved a grand sense of hierarchy in his works contrasting Bonnat, another leading artist of the time. Bonnat often centered his work around religion, like in “The Raising of Lazarus,” the Baroque character formation speaks to its antiquated sense of beauty. These works, all stunning in their own rights, apply to the norms of more classical, idealized scenes. Weeks takes a different approach, with a foundation in observation.
Weeks’ scenes often depict the intimacy of regularity; nothing is seemingly special about his moments. Rather, he captures the moment which gives it a note of importance. Weeks' presents the ordinary in a manner of beauty and grace, providing merit and excellence to his painting. His scenes are not manufactured under the governance of norms, expectations, and rules of beautiful rendering; he applies the thoughtfulness, the careful eye, and the wonder of someone who finds beauty where it lies, dormant.
My favorite expression, Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, relates more to the works of Weeks. His sentiment is that beautiful things don’t ask for attention. After all, it is the formulaic and methodical scenes of Weeks’ teachers which makes them so powerful. However, I believe it is Weeks’ opposing techniques—a stray from attention—which lend to his ability to evoke such a more powerful sense of awe in an otherwise quiet setting.
It’s his study of the sublime. It’s his subtle excellency, quiet truth, and almost tangible solemnity that make his scenes profound to me. And that sense of raw, untapped beauty—it’s something that rarely permeates an artist's entire portfolio. With Weeks, he comprehends the visual environment to an almost childlike level of curiosity. One can understand his appreciation for the visual built environment in a scene like “Curiously Wrought Red Sandstone Arches.” From the title alone, we understand Weeks’ subtle fascination with the appearance of the arches, let alone his incredible sense of depth and brilliant use of color. Equally one can understand his appreciation for cultural identity with a scene like “The Nautch.” The moment seems unspecific; people in the back are doing other things. The importance lies not in the foreground dancer, but in the unity of the culture he views. Such scenes of quietude belong to a painter who can view a moment and extract meaning and beauty from it, with no further invention. It is this quality that separates Weeks from his contemporaries, and that draws me into his subtle, effortless works.