The story of how the 20th
century artist, Gertrude Abercrombie, was entrenched in the depths of Chicago’s
dark, turbulent, discriminatory, social, and political reality.
Rosey Selig-Addiss
Gertrude Abercrombie,
“Compote and Grapes” (1941), (courtesy Karma, New York, collection of Laura and
Gary Maurer)
Who is Gertrude
Abercrombie? An exhibition and its book — the first show of her work in New
York since 1952, organized by Dan Nadel — is here to introduce you. Abercrombie
(1909-1977) is a surrealist painter who lived and worked in Chicago in the
mid-twentieth century. As the “Gertrude Stein of the Midwest,” Abercrombie
reigned over the cultural scene of Chicago’s Hyde Park neighborhood from the
1930s to the 1970s, where she held lively dinner parties and salons that
included many of the city’s legendary jazz musicians, writers, and
artists. In fact, James Purdy based one
of the characters in his novel Malcom (1959) off of Abercrombie herself (which
then became the basis of Edward Albee’s play of the same title), Ernst Krenek
composed one of his operas while renting the second floor of her home (likely
Dark Waters (1950)), and in 1956 pianist Richie Powell composed “Gertrude’s
Bounce” in her honor, which he recorded with Max Roach, Sonny Rollins, Clifford
Brown, and George Morrow, all of whom were regular guests at her gatherings.
Gertrude Abercrombie,
“Landscape with Church” (1939), (courtesy Karma, New York, collection of Laura
and Gary Maurer)
Abercrombie’s home also
offered a safe-space for collaborations between artists, musicians, and writers
of varying racial and sexual identities at a time when such spaces were as rare
as they were important. In a note from her close friend, writer Karl Priebe,
the tension of this era and the importance of Abercrombie’s friendship and
support in the face of poignant hatred and discrimination is particularly
clear. Priebe was openly gay and in an interracial relationship, a situation in
the 1940s which necessitated great attention and care to protect himself and
his partner, Frank Roy Harriet. In response to an invitation to join
Abercrombie at a party, Priebe replies, “You made me so happy by writing. Here
is the problem so answer. Frank H. is living with me and is colored and if we
can come in the face of that we will. I mean — if Aidan’s place will allow,
then definitely we will be there. So find out and write and we’ll appear. I
would love to see you so report.”…………….
Gertrude Abercrombie, “St.
Brigit” (1963), (courtesy Karma, New York, private collection)
Finally, Abercrombie’s
paintings offer a foil for understanding just how masculine the general
conception of twentieth century surrealist art remains. That said, the weight
of any systematic attempt to re-appropriate historical legacies fraught with
injustice and discontent is notably missing from Abercrombie’s delicate,
otherworldly canvases. As with “Wall with Giraffe” — Abercrombie’s work
straddles the tension between that which is simple, magical, and free, and that
which is turbulent, dark, and unavoidable — the beauty of a moment of
friendship and the reality of a wall in between. What is perhaps most
astounding about Abercrombie, and lends such depth to her simple canvases, is
the tension that she herself embodied: entrenched in the depths of Chicago’s
dark, turbulent, discriminatory, social and political reality, Abercrombie
created the possibility for a daily life that promoted generosity, freedom, and
collaboration. As Abercrombie explained, “Surrealism is meant for me because I
am a pretty realistic person but don’t like all I see. So I dream that it is
changed. Then I change it to the way I want it.”………….
https://hyperallergic.com/459812/a-surrealist-painter-who-collaborated-with-the-chicago-jazz-scene/?utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=September%2018%202018%20Daily%20
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