Design Observer

About
Books
Job Board
Newsletters
Archive
Contact



Observatory

About
Resources
Submissions
Contact


Featured Writers

Michael Bierut
William Drenttel
John Foster
Jessica Helfand
Alexandra Lange
Mark Lamster
Paul Polak
Rick Poynor
John Thackara
Rob Walker


Departments

Advertisement
Audio
Books
Collections
Dear Bonnie
Dialogues
Essays
Events
Foster Column
From Our Archive
Gallery
Interviews
Miscellaneous
New Ideas
Opinions
Partner News
Photos
Poetry
Primary Sources
Projects
Report
Reviews
Slideshows
The Academy
Today Column
Unusual Suspects
Video


Topics

Advertising
Architecture
Art
Books
Branding
Business
Cities / Places
Community
Craft
Culture
Design History
Design Practice
Development
Disaster Relief
Ecology
Economy
Education
Energy
Environment
Fashion
Film / Video
Food/Agriculture
Geography
Global / Local
Graphic Design
Health / Safety
History
Housing
Ideas
Illustration
India
Industry
Info Design
Infrastructure
Interaction Design
Internet / Blogs
Journalism
Landscape
Literature
Magazines
Media
Museums
Music
Nature
Obituary
Other
Peace
Philanthropy
Photography
Planning
Poetry
Politics / Policy
Popular Culture
Poverty
Preservation
Product Design
Public / Private
Public Art
Religion
Reputations
Science
Shelter
Social Enterprise
Sports
Sustainability
Technology
Theory/Criticism
Transportation
TV / Radio
Typography
Urbanism
Water


Comments Posted 03.31.12 | PERMALINK | PRINT

Jessica Helfand

Ezra Winter Project: Chapter Three


Lost

In October of 1915, five months after Italy’s entry into World War I, Vera sent a letter to Palma announcing that she and Ezra would sail home in early November. They were to embark from Naples, she wrote, sailing with their now three-year-old daughter Renata on the SS Ancona, leaving late the evening of November 6th.

Shortly after 1pm on November 8th, the Ancona was torpedoed by German U-Boats. 272 people lost their lives that day: among them, it seemed, Ezra Winter and his young family.


New York Tribune, November 13, 1915

For several days, the American newspapers carried stories of the stricken ocean liner. Photographs of the Winters — and of fellow traveler Eugene Savage, the American painter who’d won the Rome Prize a year after Ezra — were plastered everywhere. It was a tale of unimaginable tragedy, except for one thing.

None of them had actually been on the SS Ancona.

It’s not entirely clear why the young couple chose not to telegraph their families right away (perhaps they did, and wartime communication proved an inefficient means to do so) but for whatever reason, they were presumed lost. For Ezra — young, ambitious and accountable, it seemed, to everyone — it was more than an extraordinary bit of good fortune: it was an unexpected reprieve, a chance furlough. If not in the literal sense, Winter was, at least figuratively speaking, very much lost at sea. And he had never been happier.

Traveling from Rome by train that autumn, Ezra and Vera arrived on the coast where they might have been guided by the luscious watercolors of Francis Crisp — a promising young British painter who had been killed earlier that year, fighting at the front.

Crisp was 33 when he died.


Crisp's obituary, published in The New York Times January 15, 1915

But Ezra Winter, not yet 30, is very much alive. And so is the city of Naples, a place of intense vibrancy “whose life is merely life, without dignity, beauty or reticence, or any of the nobler conventions of civilization.”


Excerpt and title page from Hutton's Naples and Southern Italy: on left, painting by Francis Crisp, 1915  

And so, with wife and small child in tow, Winter embraces Naples like a fugitive. On borrowed time, they tour the coast — from Naples to Capri, Sorrento to Positano — a trio of self-exiled wanderers. The sea air is still warm, and until the winter rains descend in late November, the breezes will intoxicate them along the meandering coastline path.

(Please wait while the video loads.)
Film Courtesy of Travel Film Archive. Music: Béla Bartók, Suite Op.14 Sz. 62 (1916) - I. Allegretto, recorded by Gyula Kiss

By early December the whereabouts of the young artists are discovered and their formerly bereaved parents are interviewed in the American press.


Excerpts from stories in the New York Tribune, 1915 and early 1916

The young family returns to America for a brief sojourn before sailing back to Italy in early 1916. Upon his return, Winter travels to Arezzo and Perugia, Orvieto and Siena, Assisi, Florence and Pompeii. He is wildly productive, setting up his easel in cathedrals and museums and copying as many great Italian paintings as he possibly can. In this, his final year as an Academy fellow, Ezra Winter loses himself not so much at sea as in the craft and construction of painting.

(A decade later, Ezra Winter will sail to the Antarctic, one of a dozen passengers seeking to collect specimens of arctic sea life for the Museum of Natural History in New York. Soon afterward, he will travel to the Carribbean with his friend, the American Naturalist William Beebe. And for decades to to come, Ezra Winter will associate the ocean with a kind of magical suspension of disbelief. He will yearn to recapture that feeling — if not the very reality — of being lost at sea.)

And then, all at once it seems, the European odyssey is over. Winter returns to the United States and settles with his family briefly in New York where he takes a position designing camouflage for the U.S. Shipping Board. He is part of the team responsible for developing a technique that would come to be known as the “dazzle” system: a formula in which patches of striped lines were strategically painted onto the hulls of ships in order to baffle enemy boats.


Popular Science, April 1919

In his first post-Academy professional pursuit, Ezra Winter is literally painting things so that they are hidden from view — intentionally lost against the horizon. Ironically, while the patterns are in fact mandated by the dispassionate scientific language of mathematical reason, the formal choices he must use lead him toward a reductive vocabulary of bold stripes and patches of solid color. This new visual language is far closer to the language of Klee and Kandinsky than of the Renaissance masters he has copied and studied.

Dazzle is, for Ezra Winter, a kind of modernism by proxy.


Typical example of a "dazzle" pattern on the side of a ship, courtesy Damian O'Hara

Modernism itself continues to beckon. It is now 1917 — the era of the DeStijl Manifesto and the first recordings of Dixieland jazz. Mary Pickford stars in Poor Little Rich Girl — in which she plays a wealthy child ignored by her parents until a brush with tragedy redeems them. Everything — even a Mary Pickford movie — is tinged by the imminent threat of danger and death.

(Please wait while the video loads.)
From Poor Little Rich Girl (1917) directed by Maurice Tourneur and starring Mary Pickford

The U.S. enters the war in April of that year, while overseas, poets and writers struggle to comprehend the irrevocable losses of so much young life. In the U.K., T.S. Eliot publishes Prufrock and Other Observations: a meditation on urban isolation and decay — and a lyrical elegy to the very notion of loss. 

“I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker," wrote the poet, "and I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, and in short, I was afraid.”

Wouldn't Ezra himself have been afraid, of what lay ahead and how powerless he was to control it? Afraid to embrace a new kind of making? Afraid to be a painter when the world was so clearly imperiled? How safe he must have felt to find employment as an artist, tasked with the very odd mission of disguising boats.  

And yet, by early autumn, things are beginning to change. Ezra is invited by the Mayor to a dinner for the Imperial Japanese Commission to the United States where, seated at Table Fourteen, he dines on filet of flounder and Peach Waldorf. He is asked to participate in juries at The Cooper Union and the National Sculpture Society. He takes a studio near Washington Square, and begins to secure commissions. No longer the seafaring wanderer, Ezra Winter has landed on solid ground. He is back. And he is on his way.

|
Share This Story

Comments

Design Observer encourages comments to be short and to the point; as a general rule, they should not run longer than the original post. Comments should show a courteous regard for the presence of other voices in the discussion. We reserve the right to edit or delete comments that do not adhere to this standard.
Read Complete Comments Policy >>


Name             

Email address 




Please type the text shown in the graphic.


|
Share This Story



ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jessica Helfand, a founding editor of Design Observer, is an award-winning graphic designer and writer and a former contributing editor and columnist for Print, Communications Arts and Eye magazines. A member of the Alliance Graphique Internationale and a recent laureate of the Art Director's Hall of Fame, Helfand received her B.A. and her M.F.A. from Yale University where she has taught since 1994.
More Bio >>

DESIGN OBSERVER JOBS









MORE ON The Ezra Winter Project


Ezra Winter Project: Chapter Twelve
In the end, Ezra Winter was a man whose devotion to the classical world virtually underscored his every move: it explained his ineffable pursuit of youth, his enduring worship of women, his unyielding obsessions with fantasy and grandeur, lyricism and scale, theatricality and costume, fable and myth.

Ezra Winter Project: Chapter Eleven
The 1930s would prove to be an enormously fertile period in Ezra Winter’s life: following the success of the Radio City murals, the artist embarked on major commissions for the United States Supreme Court, the Federal Reserve Building and the Library of Congress, and in 1939, he debuted his mural for the New York World's Fair.

Ezra Winter Project: Chapter Ten
In April, 1933, Ezra Winter delivers a fifteen-minute live radio talk on the subject of mural painting in relation to modern life, in which he tries desperately to convince himself that he has embraced the modern world.

Ezra Winter Project: Chapter Nine
The Fountain of Youth would be Ezra Winter's greatest achievement, an enduring cultural icon in the city he loved — and on every possible level, a simply insurpassable feat: it is an extraordinary painting precisely because it is so unbearably autobiographical.

Ezra Winter Project: Chapter Eight
The Spanish dancer Carola Goya falls in love with Ezra Winter, and almost ruins her career.

Ezra Winter Project: Chapter Seven
As the gulf widens between the aspirational and the real — between the projected self and the authentic self — Ezra Winter immerses himself in all that is beautiful and lyrical and dream-like, including and especially the women with whom he surrounds himself.

Ezra Winter Project: Chapter Six
In the Spring of 1926, publisher George Palmer Putnam organized an 8,500 mile expedition to Greenland in quest of specimens for the then-new Hall of Ocean Life in the American Museum of Natural History: the ship’s roster included an eclectic mix of specialists, including an ichthyologist, a taxidermist and an artist by the name of Ezra Winter.

Ezra Winter Project: Chapter Five
In 1920, Warren Harding was elected President on a “Return to Normalcy” platform. But for Ezra Winter, nothing was normal.

Ezra Winter Project: Chapter Four
Ten months before the 1929 stock market crash, Edna Murphey was one of America’s foremost experts in health and beauty: she was also extremely wealthy. Three years later she became Mrs. Ezra Winter.

Ezra Winter Project: Chapter Two
Chapter Two, Pilgrim : In 1911, Ezra Winter marries, wins the Rome Prize, and heads to Europe for three years of study and travel.

Ezra Winter Project: Chapter One
Jessica Helfand, who teaches the seminar "Studies in Visual Biography" at Yale, shares her year-long exploration of the American muralist Ezra Winter: this is part one.

BOOKS BY Jessica Helfand

Screen: Essays on Graphic Design, New Media, and Visual Culture
Winterhouse Editions, 2001

Scrapbooks: An American History
Yale University Press, 2008

Reinventing the Wheel
Winterhouse Editions, 2002

Paul Rand: American Modernist
winterhouse Editions, 1998

Looking Closer 3
Allworth Press, 1999

More books by contributors >>

RELATED POSTS


The Conceptual Advertising of J.G. Ballard
J.G. Ballard’s conceptual ads anticipated the emergence of culture jamming, subvertising, design fiction and speculative design.

How to Visualize Poetry — And How Not to
Design Observer's poetry editor, Adam Plunkett, gives us a primer on visual poetry.

Found, Cut, and Rearranged: The Art of John Stezaker
For almost four decades, the artist John Stezaker has steadfastly been appropriating “found” press photographs, film stills, imagery from books, old postcards, and the like, to create a strikingly new way of seeing photography.

An Aposiopesis of Black Honey: or Variations on Dürer's Melancholia I
A visual poem from Jess.

The Essence of a Teapot
While the traditional teapot should be at the very least functional — that is, have the ability to hold and pour a liquid, I recently viewed an exhibition that turns all that on end with the “idea of a teapot.”