An unidentified man poses at the entrance to the guardhouse, circa 1907 at the Bucks County Prison. Photo taken from James A. Michener Art Museum Archives.

When you think of a museum, what comes to mind? A museum might be a place for you to retreat from the everyday and find solace in works of art. It might be a place that you go to socialize with friends, hear a lecture, or visit for entertainment. In contrast to these ideas, the Michener’s former site was the site of the Bucks County Prison. This brings to mind a very different environment that took place here decades ago.

It’s really ironic that I work today at the Michener. When I was in grade school, I had participated in summer camp across the street at the Mercer Museum. We were making salt boxes in the summer heat, and I remember being bitten by red ants as I sat against their large trees. As we were jumping up and down trying to avoid these persistent and annoying bugs, I looked across the street and noticed that the prisoners from the jail were getting into large trucks. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but the memory stuck with me for years, in addition to the large welts on my legs from those darn ants.

Later, when the prison closed, tours were offered to view the prison and my family and I decided to visit. I remember walking through the cold, dark hallways thinking how run down it was. Paint was peeling off the walls in huge chunks. The air smelled stale and damp. I never imagined that I would be working here one day, and using an office that was a former room to one of Warden’s children. My office looks onto the main courtyard across from the building that was once the control center of the prison. Now a gallery, prisoners were brought here to be placed in a holding cell, until they were moved into a permanent location.

You can learn more about the history of the prison, nicknamed “The Pine Street Hotel”, and the reforms that took place under Major John D. Warden Case in the book, The Pine Street Hotel by Lois Anderson. It’s a fascinating book that explains the prison’s nickname, along with stories of how the prison evolved in its treatment of prisoners. You can also visit Two Dozen Questions about the Museum to learn more.

If you were a Bucks County resident during the time the prison was open, we would love to hear your stories!

-Adrienne N. Romano, Director of Education, New Media and Interpretive Initiatives

Phillip Lloyd Powell (1919-2008), Door and Surround, 1967, Stacked carved softwoods, polychromed, James A. Michener Art Museum, Museum Purchase with Funds provided by Sharon B. and Sydney F. Martin.

Walking through the galleries, you can’t miss Phil Powell’s brightly colored door, carved with various designs and painted in shades of yellow, orange and red. This month’s mystery image captured a small segment of this door, currently installed in the Putman-Smith Gallery at the Museum. This door was part of Powell’s earliest residence in New Hope, PA.

In looking closely at this work, it reminds me of various doors to buildings I have seen in my travels over the years. The door’s characteristics remind me of the carvings and decorative elements found in the architecture of Spain, such as in the Alhambra in Granada and the Alcázar in Seville.  It also reminds me of doors and grand entrances I encountered in India, such as the Taj Mahal in Agra and the Jama Masjid in Delhi. This work also echos the same feeling and presence found in the doors of Gothic cathedrals in France, such as in the Cathedral at Rouen, painted by the French Impressionist, Claude Monet in the late 1800s. So, it’s no surprise that the travels that Powell made to countries such as Spain, Portugal, England, Sicily, India, and Morocco, were a key part of the artist’s creative inspiration for his work. He took the carvings and decorative elements of these cultures and infused them to create his own personal style. He stated, ““travel influences my work the most – for the awareness of what’s been done.”

Powell created art to sell so he could make enough money to take a trip to one of the far corners of the world. He came home, made more art, made some sales, and again, headed out on his travels. He loved the museums and food in Italy, and the natural beauty on the island of Sicily. He slept in a temple at Abu Simbel in Egypt, and explored a small town in China where no one spoke English. Powell loved the intricately carved doors in Morocco. He said, “[In Morocco] You are already welcomed before the door opens.”

When the Michener first acquired Powell’s door, it required conservation. It was dark blue-green-black, and suffered damage from insects and exposure to the elements. For several months, furniture conservator Behrooz Salimnejad analyzed the door’s paint layers under a microscope with visible and UV lights.  This analysis revealed that the original finish consisted of five shades of vermilion, bright red, reddish orange, orange, and warm yellow in distinct carved areas of the door. The analysis also determined that the original paint had an oil binder, while there were two latex layers above the original layer: an earlier dark green and the latest dark blue. In addition to restoring areas of wood loss, Salimnejad carefully removed the top layers of latex paint to reveal the door’s original paint colors and crisp carvings.

Visitors of the Museum can now walk through this door to enter the Museum’s Martin Wing, and the Paton | Smith | Della Penna-Fernberger Galleries. In reading more about how Museums approach the installation of doors in their galleries, I came across a segment on the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s website, called Connections. On this page, Dan Kershaw, an exhibition designer, shares how the installation of doors in the galleries can create unique “juxtapositions”. He states, “It’s wonderful where the door isn’t just something that leads you between places, but is something unto itself.”

Does Powell’s door remind you of any doors that you have encountered? Does the installation of this door at the Michener change your experience when you move from gallery to gallery? Share your thoughts, comments and ideas with us!

The first person to correctly name the title and the artist of this work in response to this blog posting will win a pair of general admission passes to the Museum.

Happy guessing!

The first person to correctly name the title and the artist of this work in response to this blog posting will win a pair of general admission passes to the Michener!

Hint: This object in the galleries has a supporting role.

Good luck!

Louis Stone, On Parade, n.d., oil on canvas, H.40,25 x W.60 inches. James A. Michener Art Museum. Gift of Janet L. and Lawrence C. Stone.

It’s hard to believe that we are already at the end of November, and I am embarrassed to say that we were delayed in revealing September’s Mystery Image. This image is a section of a larger painting entitled, On Parade by Louis Stone. I asked our Education Intern, a student from the University of Pennsylvania, to write about this work. Thanks Ali for taking the time to look closer at On Parade! – Adrienne N. Romano, Director of Education and New Media

What do you see in this work? I spy a cupcake. I spy a pair of blue eyes and two Groucho Marx eyebrows. I spy a smile, a swooping arm and a mitten-hand. No one sees the same thing and that is what makes it fun to look at a work like this!

This type of art is so inspiring because it forces the viewer to use his or her imagination and become the artist. How does Stone’s imagination express itself in the shapes that we see? Because this piece is abstract, the title is a clue in figuring out what the artist is trying to show. Some other works by Stone that are available for viewing in the Bucks County Artists Database do not have titles and are simply referred to as “Unknown” or “Abstraction.” Obviously, this makes it more difficult for the viewers to make sense of them.

On Parade is a painting that has a variety of shapes, colors, and lines in its composition. How does Stone create a balanced composition among all this variety? Notice how the lines in the top half of the painting are curved while those in the bottom half are straight with more parallel patterns. What else do you notice?

Louis Stone moved to New Hope during the 1930s and his abstract modernist paintings were a response to Bucks County’s impressionist movement. You can find some of these works exhibited in our current show, The Painterly Voice. Stone also worked with other local artists Charles Evans and Charles Ramsey. Be sure to check out a previous blog post about a painting by Charles Evans!

Do you see influences from other artists in On Parade? I see an element of cubism in this painting. This work reminds me of pieces done by Pablo Picasso during the early twentieth century. How does this painting make you feel like you are “on parade”?

Send us your comments!

-Ali Blum, Education Intern

Charles Rosen (1878-1950), The Roundhouse, Kingston, New York, 1927, oil on canvas, H. 30.125 x W. 40.25 inches, James A. Michener Art Museum. Gift of the John P. Horton Estate.

For those of you who were stumped on October’s mystery image, it is the painting The Roundhouse, Kingston, New York by Charles Rosen.

At first glance, this work is an industrial scene set in Kingston, New York. Among the other buildings shown in the painting, a roundhouse sits in the foreground, which was a building used for servicing locomotives. They were built as early as the 1830s and few remain today.

In looking closer, this work really isn’t about the subject matter; it’s about the interplay of forms and lines.  With the use of vertical, horizontal and diagonal lines, Rosen is creating movement between the forms. The composition is balanced, all the while giving us a slightly awkward perspective of the scene below. The combination of these forms and lines creates a painting alive with order and rhythm.

This work was one of the many paintings that Rosen created after he had moved to Woodstock, New York in 1918. In the early 1900s, Rosen settled in New Hope and began painting in the tradition of the Pennsylvania Impressionists, creating idyllic landscapes of the area. Around the time Rosen settled in New York, his style dramatically changed to become more abstract, focusing on industrial subject matter, buildings and other man-made structures. One of the many possible reasons for this shift was due to the famous Armory Show in New York City in 1913, which introduced modern art to America for the first time. To learn more about this transformation in Rosen’s work, more information can be found in the book,  Form Radiating Life, The Paintings of Charles Rosen.

The French artist, Paul Cézanne, also had a large influence in his transformation into this more abstract, modernist style. Cézanne also painted in an impressionistic manner before departing into the post-impressionist, cubist style he is most familiar for today. Take a look at the work of Cézanne and compare it to the work of Rosen’s. What similarities and differences can you see?

In the current exhibition, The Painterly Voice, you can see Rosen’s landscape paintings as well as his more abstract, modernist work on display. In looking at the work, it feels as though it is by two different artists! A selection of his paintings can be seen on the exhibition’s website. You can also add your comments or questions about the exhibition on this site.

For teachers, information on the Modernist movement can be explored with our Traveling Trunk, Michener Goes Modern and its curriculum.

Hint: Do you hear music?

Good luck!

Hint: This work references a city in New York that was a transportation hub in the 19^th century.

Have fun guessing and good luck!

Colossal bust of Ramesses II, the 'Younger Memnon' From the Ramesseum, Thebes, Egypt 19th Dynasty, about 1250 BC. One of the largest pieces of Egyptian sculpture in the British Museum Weighing 7.25 tons, The British Museum, Room 4. Author/Photo by: Mujtaba Chohan. Source: British Museum Visit. This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license. Courtesy http://commons.wikimedia.org/.

In the early 1990s, my wife and I traveled to Egypt and spent three glorious weeks touring the ancient monuments. While there were many memorable sites and experiences, one discovery was of particular interest and connected to my work at the Michener Art Museum.

Ramesses II ruled Egypt for 66 years, from 1279 BC – 1213 BC, and was over 90 when he died. He was the great builder who filled the kingdom with monuments from Abu Simbel to Luxor. In almost countless locations all across ancient Egypt, you can find Ramesses’ cartouche prominently displayed. The graphic symbol of his royal heritage is engraved on many buildings and serves as an ever present symbol of his greatness.

I learned from this experience that the desire for immortality is a human trait that goes back thousands of years. The effort to put one’s name on a building has a long history and it is just as strong today as it was in ancient Egypt. We may no longer wrap our dead in specially treated cloth to preserve their physical being, but we are still attaching our names to buildings and institutions in an effort to be remembered and to be honored.

Thousands of museums and commercial buildings proclaim the grandeur of their namesakes and offer that elusive chance for a small measure of immortality. Rockefeller Center, Trump Towers, the Whitney Museum, the Morgan Library, the Field Museum and the Franklin Institute are all examples of this human trait finding expression in the 20^th century. And what about the Mari Wing, the Silverman Pavilion, the Beans Gallery, the Martin Wing and the Edgar N. Putman Event Pavilion? This human trait encourages us to think about the future and to act in ways that serve to improve our society and to enrich the lives of others. In the world of fundraising, we call this “naming opportunities” and we are shameless in using the vehicle to raise money in capital campaigns. Sometimes one gets a “bargain,” like naming a 300 million dollar building with a 30 million dollar gift. The Kimmel Center in Philadelphia was such a bargain.

And what about the James A. Michener Art Museum? Did Jim make a large gift to gain immortality? The answer was no! Michener would say, “I spent my life fighting to keep my name off buildings.” Michener’s gifts were always made to operating expenses and he never asked to see his name on the electric meter. Jim did not seek our recognition, we went after him. Michener’s old friend Herman Silverman did the ask, and after much arm twisting, Michener agreed to lend his name to a fledgling institution despite his fears that he would someday be embarrassed by the association.

We did not embarrass Jim, but instead earned his respect and admiration. He once told me that his name was like “capital” and he believed we had invested it well and gained support in the community. And who can deny the fact that this Museum’s success would have been much more modest if we were called the “Pine Street Museum.”

-Bruce Katsiff, Director/CEO

The first person to correctly name the title and the artist of this work in response to this blog posting will win a pair of general admission passes to the Michener!

Hint: The title of this painting refers to something that happens over the holiday weekend!

Have fun guessing and good luck!