A History of African-American Artists from 1792 to the Present.

A HISTORY OF AFRICAN-AMERICAN ARTISTS FROM 1792 TO THE PRESENT

Romare Bearden and Harry Henderson

Pantheon Books, $65, 541 pp.

This handsome book was co-authored by the late Romare Bearden, one of the most beloved African-American artists of our time, and Harry Henderson, a gifted journalist. It is a biographical history containing, in addition to much new information on AfricanAmerican artists, some rare examples of their work. There are 420 black-and-white illustrations and 61 color reproductions, including, according to the publisher's blurb, "rediscovered classics, works no longer extant, and art never before seen in this country."

Although one will not find in these pages an exhaustive history of African-American art, one will discover a rich sampler. Those knowledgeable in the field will lament the unfortunate absence of such artists as Benny Andrews and Faith Ringgold along with a number of other important figures. While no attempt has been made to present this as an encyclopedic compendium, it is an informative introduction to many of the notable African-American artists since the eighteenth century and a fascinating selection from their works.

The text contains pathos, intrigue, gossip, and scholarly puzzles that will probably be new to the average reader. Even African-American Studies specialists will discover a treasury of the rich and strange. For example, there is the controversy surrounding Joshua Johnston. Was this American portraitist, flourishing in the late eighteenth century and early nineteenth century, of African descent? The answer to that question is a "definite maybe," or, as the authors put it, "During the last fifty years it has been increasingly accepted that Joshua Johnston was indeed an African-American." The strongest evidence that has been presented in support of Johnston's African ancestry is the discovery in 1976 of what might have been his name in the will of Mrs. Thomas Everett, who identified a portrait of herself and her children as the work of "J. Johnson." There is also a clue in a book held by one of his seated subjects, with the name "Joshu Johnson" crudely lettered on one of its pages. Why he would have misspelled his own name remains a mystery. Presumably Johnston painted portraits of many wealthy white Americans, some of whom might have left in their papers a mention of his race. The authors express the hope that perhaps an answer is yet to be discovered in some obscure archive.

Bearden and Henderson relate the heroic struggle of Edmonia Lewis, a neoclassical sculptor and Catholic convert of the late nineteenth century, observing the tremendous difficulties over which she triumphed as a black woman

artist in antebellum America. She was born in Greenbush, New York, on July 14, 1848, of African and Chippewa descent, and orphaned at the age of nine. Raised by two aunts who were from her mother's tribe, she grew up speaking Chippewa, learning to weave baskets and embroider moccasins. She was sent for a short period to the New York Central College at McGrawville by her older brother, but encountered language difficulties, unaccustomed as she was to pronouncing certain English consonants. Being of an independent, rebellious nature she was soon forced to drop out, but her brother persuaded her to apply to Oberlin College. This time she had no reputation for "wildness," but she became involved in a terrible scandal, when two of her fellow students became ill and accused her of poisoning them. Before her hearing, she was abducted, beaten, and left for dead in the snow. At her heating the black abolitionist lawyer, John Mercer Langston, argued that no medical proof of poisoning had been gathered at the time and Lewis was never brought to trial.

Ensuing difficulties with the local townspeople led to her being denied registration for her final term at Oberlin, and Lewis set out for Boston in 1863 where she secured an introduction to Edward A. Brackett, a sculptor known for his bust of John Brown. While at Oberlin, she had demonstrated some skills at drawing, and Brackett took her under his wing, offering her advice and encouragement. Her brother rented a small studio for her, and Lewis was able to sell enough of her work, including 100 plaster replicas of her bust of Robert Gould Shaw, the white Union officer who led an all-black regiment, to finance a sojourn in Rome. There she resided, apparently for the rest of her life, although she made several trips back to the United States. The authors found no references to her activities after February 1909. The distinguished archivist Dorothy Porter writing in the Dictionary of American Negro Biography found a reference in the American Catholic Encyclopedia (1911), giving her address as Rome, Italy. The date of Lewis's death is still unknown, but her life is one of the most interesting recounted here, and a number of her very striking sculptures are reproduced in photographs.

There are concise photographic portfolios of the sculpture of Richmond Barthe and Augusta Savage. We are told that little of Savage's work survives, and that "Some of her work disappeared under curious circumstances, the most mysterious being the theft of her magnificent bust of [W. E. Burghardt] Du Bois from the Harlem Branch of the New York Public Library [where] it sat undisturbed from 1923 until 1960 .... But on October 26, 1960, the bust was discovered to be missing and has never been found. Some librarians believe that Savage...[sent] someone to get it and that she destroyed it, possibly because she no longer admired Du Bois."

A lay person, such as the present reviewer, will always judge a book of this sort largely on the quality of its color reproductions. There are some brilliant ones here, including Aaron Douglass's More Stately Mansions which is currently so popular that it graces the covers of at least two African-American history books. The painting, in somber magenta tones, shows black workers against the architectural background of monumental Egyptian symbols, a Christian church spire, and some modernistic towers echoing the architecture of Timbuktu. The work of Archibald Motley is jazzier in spirit, conjuring up the danger, the color, and the easy laughter associated with the exotic "Negro Renaissance" of the twenties. His spirit is bluesy and brassy, but in retrospect, almost innocent.

The book is well designed, with readable, attractive type on high-quality paper. It should be quite the collector's item but more than a coffee-table decoration. While its illustrations are far from commonplace, the overwhelming majority of readers will find its biographies both entertaining and informative.