The Worcester Art Museum‘s current exhibit of Faith Ringgold‘s work, Freedom to Say What I Please is small but powerful. Included are her posters, paintings, prints, and a quilt-illustration from her beloved book, Tar Beach. Ringgold is 93 and still working, and the strength of her vision through the decades is arresting. These life-size soft sculptures are “Bessie and Faith” from her Family of Women Series (1974), reminders to the art world of the time to include more women artists, instead of merely representations of women. These two figures represent the artist’s Aunt Bessie alongside Ringgold’s self-portrait, and are inspired by carved wood masks from the Dan people of Liberia.
Lured by the prospect of finding other women artists at WAM, I went on a treasure hunt. Judith Leyster, Gabriele Münter, Maria Marc, Paula Modersohn-Becker, and the mighty Käthe Kollwicz are represented in the permanent galleries. Kollwicz’s sculpture Mother with Child Over Her Shoulder (below) was cast in bronze almost 50 years after the artist’s death. Her sculptures are thankfully beginning to be better known.
Freedom to Say What I Please is up until March 17, and has an accompanying reading room stocked with Ringgold’s childrens’ books.
Elizabeth, the Exile of SIberia and two medallions surface
Before the pandemic wreaked havoc with schools, teachers, and life in general—not to mention my research—I received an exhilarating message from a sculpture collector in Florida. That first message contained a tantalizing image—a signature on a marble figure that is virtually identical to the signature on the Nathaniel Hawthorne portrait bust in the Concord, Mass. library: “L.L. Romae. 1858.”
Lander’s powerful portrait of Hawthorne, then one of the most popular and venerated novelists in America, should have cemented her reputation as one of the 19th century’s most talented and original sculptors. Instead, rumor and gossip surrounding Lander’s relationship with Hawthorne led eventually to the downfall of her hard-won professional reputation.
How wonderful, then, to see images of what I believe to be Lander’s “Elizabeth, Exile of Siberia.” The existence of this half-lifesize sculpture was documented by 19th century journalist and art historian Elizabeth Ellet in Woman Artists of All Ages and Countries (1859). Ellet describes the figure in Lander’s Roman studio:
“…a spirited, yet feminine figure, very pretty in its picturesque costume—the short cloak, Russian boots, and closely fitting cap” 1
Lander’s recently-revealed Elizabeth sculpture is dressed in a fetching costume extremely close to Ellet’s description (if not warm enough to survive a Siberian winter). The close-fitting cap is sits on the back of her head, almost like a beanie. Her waltz-length skirt was scandalously short for the time, but it is meant to convey athletic exertion and is worn over high boots. Her ¾-length jacket (Ellet describes it as a “cloak”) is fashionable by mid-Victorian standards and no doubt represents an artistic compromise between padded warmth and modeling of a svelte, youthful figure. The face and hair of this sculpture so closely resemble Lander’s Evangeline and even Virginia Dare, that one wonders–as the current owner does–if the same model was used.
The character of Elizabeth, from the popular novel Elizabeth; or, the Exiles of Siberia by Sophie Ristaud Cottin, portrays the true story of a young woman loyal to her father in his Siberian exile. Elizabeth journeyed to Moscow, in a Russian winter, to try and secure his pardon. This enormously popular book, by a best-selling French author, was first published in 1806, 20 years before Louisa’s birth, but the edition I’m currently reading was published in New York in 1864. The “Elizabeth” of Cottin’s book is exceptionally pious, chaste, and devoted to her parents—an embodiment of all Victorian virtues. It seems to have remained popular for some time, and perhaps the book’s descriptions of a lonely girl, growing up in an isolated wilderness, spoke to a certain solitariness in Lander’s character observed by Elizabeth Ellet. The subject fits well with Louisa Lander’s penchant for portraying tragic or thwarted heroines of popular literature, such as Maud Müller, Evangeline, and Undine.
Another recent discovery, this time a portrait medallion hiding in plain sight in Salem, was confirmed by Lander enthusiast Diane Hale. This small marble bas-relief of the Rev. James Oliver Scripture hangs in Saint Peter’s Episcopal church, Louisa’s former congregation. It may have been carved by Lander herself, which raises interesting questions about Lander’s process. Ellet documents that Lander carved small objects as a child, and she doubtless honed this craft as a student of Thomas Crawford’s in Rome.
There is a small bronze medallion signed “Lander” in the collection of the Massachusetts Historical Society, a low relief bust of George Washington. My research has not turned up a date or context for when Lander may have produced this.
Many thanks are due to Katherine Manthorne for bringing these two medallions to my attention, and for her encouragement and invaluable correspondence generally. Thanks to her interest in Louisa Lander, I was able to re-connect with the owner of Elizabeth, and continue my research into Lander’s methods and media.
Slowly but surely, Louisa Lander’s life and work are being uncovered, rediscovered, and recognized.
Elizabeth Fries Lummis Ellet, Woman Artists in All Ages and Countries (New York, Harper & Brothers Publishers, 1859), 332
A working sculptor 